She laughed, but there were tears in her eyes. “Wanna sit with me?”
“Okay.”
I went over to Gideon and Dean. “How is he?”
Dean was harried, hair a mess, his eyes wide, shaking slightly. “He’s good. He woke up before they arrived at the hospital. Concussion. He went in for a CT scan, and Rita is staying as close as they’ll let her.”
Gideon crouched in front of Owen and lightly stroked across the Band-Aid on his chin. “Need anything, kiddo?”
“I’m okay. Chin hurts, but maybe I’ll have a cool scar.”
Gideon’s smile was shaky. “Maybe.”
He stood and faced me. “Do they know who was driving the car?” I asked.
Gideon gritted his teeth. “Cops arrested him, no injuries, said he was highly intoxicated.”
I hummed. “Do we believe this is random?”
Gideon eyed everyone around him and shook his head. “I don’t believe in random. If Benito is behind this, I’ll destroy him.”
If Benito was responsible, I had a feeling the line to kill that man was going to be out the door.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Gideon
Rita hadn’t leftMatteo’s side. The doctors said the CT scan looked pretty good, but they wanted to keep him overnight for observation. I couldn’t help but feel responsible for what had happened to Matteo; he’d been in my care.
“Go talk to her.” Dean nudged me forward.
She was beside Matteo’s bed, holding his hand. He was asleep, but she just stared at him and it was easy to see the anger in her eyes. Matteo was Rita’s whole world.
Rita peered up as I approached and sighed. “You are blaming yourself?”
“How could I not?”
Dean stepped in and gently squeezed Rita’s shoulder. “Why don’t the two of you go get a coffee? I’ll sit with Matteo.”
She glanced at her son, a typical good mother not wanting him out of her sight for a moment after the slightest thing had gone wrong while he’d been away from her.
Finally, she acquiesced. “Yeah, okay.” She kissed Matteo’s forehead, then gave Dean a peck on the lips before following me out.
We walked in silence to the elevator and the entire way to the cafeteria. We ordered our drinks and I guided us over to a small table in an alcove.
“The person who hit the SUV was drunk and has been arrested.”
Rita’s gaze was calculating. She knew there was more. “You don’t believe in random, Gideon.”
“No, I don’t.”
She nodded slowly and took a sip of her coffee. “Benito?”
“I’m thinking, yes. The dots all connect.”
Rita placed her coffee on the table, her glare hard. “¡Lo mato!”
I reached across the table, relieved when she clutched my hand. “I promise he will pay, but you can’t kill him—that’s my job.”
