Page 102 of For Your Eyes Only

DJ puts a hand on my shoulder. “He’s strong. He fought to hang on all the way across the ocean so he could see you one more time. The doctor said if he makes it, he’ll be able to move around in a week, but it can take six for a full recovery.”

“Six weeks.” I study him lying in my bed, thinking there’s no way to hide him in this little town. “Is he safe here? Is whoever did this looking for him?”

“I don’t know.” DJ shakes his head. “Franco told me to stay with him, so if you’re letting him stay here, I’ll find a place nearby.”

Misha catches my elbow, tugging me to the other side of the room. “Don’t do it, Gia. This man does not deserve your pity.”

I hurt so much, and I know Michele is right. I know my silly heart can’t be trusted around him. Still… “I can’t turn him away like this, Misha. It wouldn’t be right.”

“So send him to a hospital.”

“Where whoever shot him can come back and finish the job?” It’s hard to breathe at the thought. “He has to stay here. DJ will help us.”

My ex-fiancé grits his teeth. “You know that’s not what worries me.”

“I won’t get attached.” I squeeze his arm. “Trust me. I remember what he did. We’ll get him back on his feet, then I’ll show him the door.”

“I’m holding you to that.”

“I’m counting on you to hold me to it. Now help me find DJ a place to stay. We can’t all fit in this little apartment.”

With Trip settled and sleeping in my bed, they head out to secure a place for DJ and to buy more vodka. Crossing my arms over my stomach, I swallow the pain racking my insides at seeing him here, hurt, needing my help.

The words he said are on repeat in my brain.I had to see you one more time… You deserve to be cherished… I’m so very sorry.He believed he was going to die, so he came here, to me.

“Stop it, Gia.” I tighten my jaw.

Michele is right. Having him here is playing with fire, and I have to be strong. He hurt me, and I’m not jumping back into his arms simply because he appeared on my doorstep nearly dead.

CHAPTER29

TRIP

I’m not dead.

Paradoxically, I did not die, yet I woke up in heaven.

Franco sent DJ to find me in New York using my phone’s locator service. I didn’t know he was tracking me that way, and if I had, I probably wouldn’t have allowed it.

I found all this out as I was dying in the passengers side of DJ’s SUV, while he drove wildly to the nearest emergency department. Franco argued it’s the best way to ensure my security. He also ordered me not to die, like I had a choice.

DJ had been in the street outside Grish’s loft when he heard the shots fired and ran in as Hutch and Blake were running out, saving me from pretty much immediate death.

He left Grish behind, taking me to the closest hospital, where a trauma doctor was able to fix me up as well as he could. Now I owe that fucker my life.

According to DJ, I was saying Giana’s name the whole time, so Franco ordered a private jet and had him take me to Italy. I think Franco thought I was dying, too, and didn’t want my dying wish to be on his head. He’s superstitious that way. Like I would waste my afterlife haunting his Cuban ass.

I’m not pissed at any of them. I’m opening my eyes in Santa Croce, in Gia’s bed with the sea breeze drifting around me and my beautiful girl asleep at my side.

She’s fully clothed and her back is turned, but her dark hair spreads over the pillow, and honeysuckle touches my nose. I have everything in the world I want to live for right here in my grasp with nothing standing in my way…

Except all that shit I said to her in Palm Beach.

Fuck, I was a bastard.

I had to lay it on thick so she wouldn’t argue, so she’d be upset enough to go all the way across the ocean, back here, to her home. I had to make her believe I was a cold-hearted snake to save her life. I’ve got a lot of making up to do, but I’ll do it. I’ll do anything—

“You’re awake?” A crisp, male voice snatches my attention from gazing at Gia’s beautiful back to seeing Michele the drag queen standing over the bed, frowning fiercely.

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