Page 91 of His Deadly Lies

I lean heavily into the pillows at my back, working my fingers just to make sure I still can. The pain is a bitch, but even now, I’m getting used to it.

Ricardo chuffs out a laugh, his lips twisted in a small smile. “Sure. I’ll do my best. I’ll even scoop her up and hand deliver her to you if that’s what you want.”

Without moving the rest of me, I shift my head to face him and make sure he’s looking me dead in the eyes when I say, “You keep your fucking hands off of her.”

Oops. I hadn’t meant to go that feral on him.

Rather than cowing or smiling, Ricardo simply stands there. Long enough to make me tense. “She, ah…she knows, Unc. She knows the truth. All of it.”

I don’t have to ask him to clarify. My brows furrow down in a sharp V. Mia finding out about my deception now isn’t the best in terms of timing. She’s got to be absolutely furious. Did Ricardo get his gun back from her? He must have.

Well, fuck me gently with a machete. Maybe I can use my bullet wound as leverage?

I sigh. “Go find her and bring her in here. Now.”

Ricardo looks like he wants to say something but zips his lips. Finally, he pushes off of the bed, and he’s out the door in his next breath.

My chest feels too tight for comfort, my lungs spasming, and I have to force myself to calm the eff down. Mia knows the truth. Every bit, according to Ricardo, which may or may not be the truth. But how far does her knowledge really extend, and what did he tell her?

About me? About…the real man she’s engaged to and how I lied about it from the start?

The back of my head and neck start to pound, and I swear I’ve broken out in a cold, clammy sweat at the thought of her fury. And worse—any sense of betrayal. What can I say to start smoothing it over for her?

Maybe she won't want to hear it.

Worrying about her reaction is worse than the fucking gunshot.

What if she thinks my lies were big enough to have caused her irreparable damage, and she calls off the engagement? She’d talked about it in the car, back when she thought Ricardo would be the one waiting for her at the end of the church aisle.

“Unc, she’s not outside.”

I jump at the sound of Ricardo’s voice and immediately regret the movement. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he says easily, “that she must still be out catching her breath, but I didn’t see her. I ran into her sister and said to send her over.” Ricardo rolls his eyes. “I even gave her your all-so-private room number.”

I tap my fingers on the side of the bed, and the heart monitor beeps pitifully. “Does the old man know?”

“Not yet. Figure we need to discuss it with Mia herself before we let Edward know,” Ricardo says with a shrug. “He’s been so flustered with her, all the blood, that he hasn’t said much.”

“Blood?” I sit up straighter.

“Your blood…don’t tell me you’re going to go all psycho on me too.” Ricardo crosses his arms over his chest.

I flash him my teeth and say, “Does that sound like me?”

“Yes. It absolutely does. She’s fine. I’m sure she’s fine. She just went a little psycho herself when you went down. How much do you remember?”

Not enough. Not nearly enough for me to piece the whole picture together, which is fucking infuriating. My wound throbs as I force myself up into a seated position, calling every ounce of willpower at my disposal to even adjust.

“As long as she’s safe. That's what matters,” I grit out. “And someone get me a couple of ibuprofen. I want out of this bed.”

Ricardo reaches for me. “Easy, Uncie Poo.”

“Call me that one more time, and I’m going to rip your spine out through your throat.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He is used to the threats at this point.

Mia is taking much longer than I’d expect to get back from her walk. Not that I’m trying to time her. I just want to see her. Hold her. Explain myself before she gets a wild hair in her head about why I lied and starts coming up with stories.

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