Chapter 230
(TYLER)
Upstairs, the hospital is operating with a skeleton staff as the threat level has still not been officially cleared. Three heavily-armed cops are waiting in the reception area, but Darla hides us away in a disused staffroom while Sasha is looked over by one of the doctors from the ER.
We make a strange group waiting there: Marco and me, Santino and Giovanni, and Detective Burgess in the corner staring intently at all of us. Burgess had her chance to contact the cops to call out for their help in arresting Santino and Giovanni, or even to just make herself known to them as a fellow law enforcement officer…and she didn’t.
Her drive to take down the Adonis Family seems to override both her instincts for self-preservation and her obedience to police protocols. She wants personal credit for any scalps claimed today. Her mistake, of course, is thinking that things will go her way.
Giovanni, who’s sitting close to Santino on the tiny, coffee-stained lounge, puts his hand on his thigh and leans in to murmur something in his ear. Santino gives an answering chuckle. Burgess’ eyes go wide.
“You’re—” she starts, and breaks off with a look of contempt. “So what they say back at the precinct was really true p>
Giovanni gives a tight smile. “Anything Stefano said to you was designed to manipulate, Gina. But we’ll have that conversation, like I said.” It’s interesting to me to see how close he and Santino are now, moving in synchronicity.
Once Sasha and I go on the run—once I persuade him, because I will, after today’s bullshit—I wonder how much closer we’ll end up. It’s already scary, sometimes, how well we know each other. How easily we can read each other.
Burgess walks away from us all to another corner of the room, this one further away.
“How did you know to come?” I ask Santino in a low voice.
“Boss had a protocol in place,” he replies quietly. “If he ever missed a weekly contact, I was to come straight back. Got into town early this morning p>
“And just happened to rock up to the hospital at the same time as the attack? Maybe there really is a God p>
Santino grins.
“I can’t speak to that. But as for why we’re here, now—well, you can pat your own back. Miles and Giulio both got your alarm, and I was with them when it came in. Miles wanted Giovanni and me in a less visible area, so he sent us down the tunnel. Good thing, too. The guards there were dead when we arrived, and those Irish fucks were blowing open the doors with one of their war toys p>
I feel a stab of guilt. More Triple Triads men sacrificed—and not even just for Sasha. For me.
This is all my fault.
None of us speak again until the door opens a few minutes later, and Darla sticks her head into the room. “Um, there’s more of you,” she whispers, and then pushes through two more figures.
The first is Luigi, who looks warily at Marco and Burgess, then stops dead when he sees Santino. They greet each other warmly while the woman following Luigi into the room looks around, her hand on the gun at her waist.
Several pairs of eyes swivel back to her, questioning. “This is Sophia,” Luigi introduces her, once he and Santino are done shaking vigorous hands and slapping shoulders. “She’s, uh, a friend of the Family p>
“A friend of the Family?” Marco asks, bewildered. Bless him, he’s a little more traditional than most mafia men. “A friend of the Family,” Luigi repeats firmly.
She nods at Marco, who can’t help returning it. Her dark eyes flash over to Burgess and size her up. Burgess’ mouth opens, and nothing comes out.
“Hi,” Sophia says.
“Hi,” Burgess says back after a moment, a slight flush staining across her nose and cheeks. “Uh. I mean—” She breaks off, almost as bewildered as Marco. And speaking of Marco: “I don’t want this asshole anywhere near me,” he growls, glaring at Luigi.
“Room’s too crowded, anyway,” Luigi says. “I just wanted to check in. Bianchi, maybe we could have a word p>
“Bianchi stays right here,” Burgess snaps. “He doesn’t leave my sight p>
“I’ll stay right here,” Giovanni suggests, before the tension can ratchet up too high.
“You know he’s not going to leave town without me, right, Gina p>
“It’s Detective Burgess, asshole. And neither of you are going anywhere. End of story p>
Giovanni and Santino exchange looks. “Why don’t we have that conversation now, Gina p>
Giovanni suggests with a smile, turning back to the detective. “You can hear an exciting tale of adventure while Santino takes a quick walk. He’ll be back, I promise p>
There’s not much Burgess can do to stop Santino Bianchi, and she seems to know that.
When Darla motions to me as well, and I slip out with Luigi and Santino, Burgess stays quiet. Her eyes stray again to Sophia, and Sophia gives a decidedly flirty smirk back. That’s something Burgess should nip in the bud, I think, unless she wants to end up like the example right under her nose, former Special Agent Giovanni Matteo.
Santino and Luigi fall into a code-worded confab behind Darla and me, and Darla fills me in while we walk. “I wanted to let you know right away that your husband is just fine. He’s conscious and he’s asking for you. And— well, for Mr. Luigi, too p>
I glance over my shoulder at Luigi, where he’s walking a few steps behind with Santino. He looks…almost anxious. “Okay,” I say, and Darla motions us to follow her down a new corridor.
Wherever Sasha’s being kept post-checkup, it’s not in this ward. It’s not even in the private wing, I discover, as Darla stops in front of a plain door. There are multiple beds in there, I can see through the glass pane in the door, although only one has a curtain pulled around it and the others are empty. My heart jumps as I think of Sasha there, just beyond that pale green curtain. “Thank you,” I tell Darla sincerely. She smiles. I look to Luigi and Santino, a question in my raised eyebrows.
“Go on in,” Santino says. “We’ll be here p>
“You go first,” Luigi agrees. “You both just went through some shit… again p>
“Okay,” I tell them, because I totally fucking agree that I should be the first to see Sasha, but add, “Don’t run away, though, Luigi, will you? If Sasha wants to see you p>
“I’ll be here,” he promises. “Whatever he wants to say to me, I’ll hear it p>