Page 230 of Lethal Obsession

I turn around, my eyebrows raised in question.

“Why am I reporting to him?” Tyler turns from the screen showing my face to a second one showing Mickey’s blood-soaked face and rictus smile. He stares at Mickey with blatant horror.

“Because I don’t run our family in Miami anymore.” Smiling coldly, I tilt my head toward Mickey. “He does.”

46

Ofelia

“I wish I could tell you more, Mr. Al Sudairi,” Dr. Moretti begins.

“Benny.” He glares at her. “Just use Benny.”

“Si.” Dr. Moretti’s eyes cut to Jack Bellini, who nods reassuringly. “We must take this as a positive sign, Benny,” she begins again. “Lars is breathing without assistance. This is an excellent beginning.”

“It’s been three days.” He stares accusingly at her through bloodshot eyes. “Three days. You said it was normal that he would be unconscious for hours, not days.”

“Actually, what I said was—” At a subtle shake of Jack’s head, Dr. Moretti stops. “The brain is unpredictable,” she says quietly. “And bodies heal in their own time. Trying to rush that process will only risk Lars’s recovery. There is a reason your visits to his bedside are restricted to very brief windows. He needs peace, quiet, and time to emerge at his own pace.”

“But we can’t just sit in the waiting room. There must be something we can do—”

“There is, Mr. Al Sudairi—Benny,” Dr. Moretti corrects herself, shaking off Jack’s restraining hand on her arm. “You can leave,” she says firmly. “You both can.” She turns her glare on me. “Go outside. Touch the grass, as the Americans say.”

“Touch grass,” Jack corrects her, grinning.

“This is what I said.” She gives him an impatient look.

“It’s touch grass,” he explains. “Not touch the grass—and obviously that doesn’t matter at all,” he says hastily, backing away from Benny’s murderous expression with his hands up. “But the doc has a point,” he goes on, glancing at me. “You and Benny have barely slept for days, and it wasn’t like you were sleeping a lot before that. I don’t know anything about medicine,” he adds, “but if it’s true that thoughts are energy, the tension rolling off you two would be enough to keep me unconscious, too. What?” he says in answer to Dr. Moretti’s skeptical look. “Just because you didn’t read it in a book—okay. I’m going to stop now.”

“Smart,” Benny snarls, but his brow is creased like he’s actually mulling over what Jack said.

“Come on.” I touch his shoulder. “Let’s just go for a walk outside, at least. You know they’ll call us if anything happens.”

Benny’s eyes get a slightly panicked look. “But what if he wakes up, and I’m not here—”

“Then he will have been awake, and we will know more,” Dr. Moretti says firmly. “Andate,” she orders, ushering us out.

“She’s so bossy for such a little person,” Benny grumbles as we head for the elevator.

“She is, isn’t she,” Jack says, grinning as he blows Dr. Moretti a kiss.

I shake my head. “I can’t believe you’re sleeping with Lars’s surgeon. You’re as bad as my brother.”

“Ha.” Jack snorts. “Not even close. From what I’ve heard, that is,” he adds hastily, his eyes not quite touching mine.

I frown. “I didn’t realize you knew Mickey so well.”

“Oh, I don’t.” He hits the button for the elevator, studiously avoiding my eyes. “Just from his time here. And by reputation, obviously.”

By reputation?

Then I remember that Mickey is in Miami. “I gather my brother is dealing with his breakup in true Miami style,” I say dryly, as we travel down to the ground floor. “I thought they’d all be too busy for partying, but I guess he managed to fit some in anyway.”

“Partying.” Jack gives a choked laugh. As the doors open, he mutters something that sounds like, “I guess you could call it that.”

“Hey.” I frown at him. “Not that I’m defending it, but Mickey just had a rough breakup. Go easy on him.”

“Go easy on Mickey Stevanovsky,” he says, grinning. “Sure. I’ll try to remember to do that.”