Page 25 of Complications

I forced my eyes to stay on my work. Matteo’s rage was palpable, but the specifics of it weren’t any of my business. Whatever I was doing with Elio—and whatever our connection was—it wasn’t grounds to interfere with what was obviously not my business. My role with Matteo had been defined for years, and I wasn’t looking to rock that particular boat.

“Maybe we can table this discussion for a few minutes,” Frankie offered. I felt all eyes in the room turn to me when he added, “Doc needs to finish patching.”

“Sorry, gentlemen. This is going to take a bit longer. He’s a bleeder.”

Before anyone could answer, shouts from the hallway cut through our polite standoff.

“Get your fucking hands off me, you piece of shit.”

Like a beacon, I locked onto the sound of Elio’s voice. There was anger in it, yes—but under that, I heard fear.

“I’ll take my hands off when your uncle sees what the fuck you’re doing.”

“I don’t give a good goddamn what you tell him—get your fucking hands off me.”

The door crashed open, and Elio was shoved through. He landed hard on the white tile floor with a resounding thud. Joey followed him inside without a sound. Matteo jumped back as Elio landed at his feet on his hands and knees.

It seemed like his usual state lately was beat to hell, and today was no exception. His eye was already swelling shut, and there were smears of blood across his mouth where it looked like he’d been hit. My whole body clenched at the sight of anyone putting their hands on him.

“Stop,” Matteo bellowed. “Nobody is doing one more fucking thing until I get a clear picture of what the fuck is happening in my house.” He took the time to straighten his cuff links and the front of his suit. Elio snapped his mouth shut.

Elio was glaring at him when I risked a quick glance out of the corner of my eye. I didn’t dare move toward him. If I touched him, there’d be no hiding what had happened between us.

My current patient struggled to sit up on the table, which caused a fresh stain of red on the bandage I’d been holding against the wound. He wasn’t going to the ER for a transfusion, so unless he wanted one from questionable sources, I needed the movement to stop.

“I’ll tell you what’s going on. Your nephew is trying to run a racket,” my patient snarled.

Bullshit.

My hand stilled for half a second before I went back to work. I might have been a little less gentle when I resumed. If my patient noticed, he stuck with winces and muttered curses under his breath.

“What?” The shock in Frankie’s voice was obvious. He wouldn’t care who it was—when it came to protecting Matteo, even his own family wasn’t off-limits. “Sam, you better have some fucking proof.”

“Where’s Joey?” Anger rolled off Matteo in waves as the accusation settled over the room. In all the years I’d known him, I’d never heard that tone before, and it worried me. I stole another peek at Elio, and our eyes locked. I understood the evident pleading. I gave a subtle nod and returned to the liar lying on the exam table.

“I’m right here,” Joey answered from the door.

Frankie was Matteo’s bodyguard, but Joey was his right-hand man and knew Matteo’s business from the inside out. If Elio was doing anything, which he fucking wasn’t, he’d be responsible for knowing it and fixing it.

Rather than call attention to myself, I kept my head down and focused on the work at hand. The idea of having to walk out when Elio might need me made my stomach clench in fear. I needed to stay in this room.

“Explain,” Matteo clipped.

“Sam went to collect a rent payment…”

“Regular terms?”

“Yeah, he’s old, and it’s easier on him if we go there.” Most of Matteo’s business was above board. He owned commercial properties, a few residential apartment buildings, and made strategic investments. But what the hell was Elio doing there? “The old guy’s rented that apartment for over forty years. He used to work for your dad before he switched to the rare book business.”

“Was he hurt?”

“No. Sam arrived, but Elio was already there. According to Sam, your nephew was demanding payment and tempers flared…” Joey’s voice trailed off in disgust. “Elio wrestled away Sam’s gun and shot him.”

“Sam, that right?” Matteo asked. It took a second to answer since my finger was currently inside the bullet hole in his shoulder.

“What Joey said,” he panted. “I went in to collect the rent, and Elio was already there. I heard him say the rent needed to include extra payments, and if he didn’t pay, he was out.”

Matteo remained silent while the tension in the room increased tenfold.