Page 144 of Thin Lines (Donati Bloodlines 2)

“Kill them—all of them,” Affonso said darkly. “I wantthem gone.”

“Boss …”

“Kill them!”

“What about Calisto?” Ray asked.

“I’m coming home. Soon.”

“His doctors need someone here to sign papers and makedecisions, Affonso. Like I said when I first called, he’s critical and he’s ina bad way.”

“Do not let them make decisions on his life until I amthere,” Affonso demanded.

Critical wasn’t dead.

Emma clung onto that one simple hope.

Some people might believe that hanging onto hope wasuseless in most situations, because miracles didn’t happen. She couldn’t allowherself to let go if it wasn’t the end yet.

Calisto wasn’t gone.

Not yet.

She spun on her heel and left the men to their phoneconversation. But her heart was screaming so loud. She only wanted one thing.

Calisto.

Emma stood outside the intensive care unit, scared toenter the room just in front of her. The lights had been dimmed, and thecurtain was pulled around the bed. It was just luck that Calisto was situatedin the same hospital that her doctor was located. Under the guise of needing tohave more bloodwork done, her driver took her.

She sneaked away from him the moment she could andwent to the intensive care unit that she had heard Ray telling Affonso about.

Now, she was terrified.

Emma didn’t know if she could handle seeing Calistoblack and blue, swollen and nearly dead. But she couldn’t just walk away nowthat she was here.

Right?

Shooting a look back at the nurses’ station, shenoticed that all of the women and men working there were gathering around ascreen and laughing at something. They were thoroughly distracted.

Emma didn’t want to draw attention.

Quickly, she stepped into Calisto’s hospital room, anddrew the shades on the window to give herself a bit more privacy. She listenedto the beep of monitors and the hiss of oxygen sing their rhythmic, life-savingtune.

It took her another two minutes before she could steparound the curtain. And when she did … her heart shattered all over again.

Calisto was wrapped in gauze and casts. A ventilatortube was shoved down his throat, and his face was cut, bruised, and swollen.His right arm was in a cast, as was his left leg.

Emma choked on nothing but air and her tears.

“Oh, Calisto,” she mumbled.

She stepped forward, taking his left hand in hers.Gently, she squeezed his hand and rubbed the back with her thumb like he woulddo to her cheek when she was sad about something. Hanging above his bed was afamiliar item.

The black rosary with a silver cross.

The one she had given him for Christmas.

She still had his with the golden cross.