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“Hey, Boss—I mean, Gio?”
I grunt in answer.
“This Amipryl. Whose is it?”
“Probably Falynn’s. Her fertility medication. She hated taking it.”
Louis emerges from the bathroom, clutching both the medicine bottle and a glass of water. “Her doctor was giving her this stuff?”
I’m still dizzy as fuck, but I recognize the concern in Louis’s voice. I push myself up and the walls themselves feel like they’re moving along with me. If I’m not careful, I’ll spill the inside of my guts.
“Why?” I ask, peering over at Louis.
There are two of him, my vision fuzzy. It might really be time for lights out. I’m way too out of it.
But I need to know what the hell is Louis’s interest in Falynn’s medications.
“This Amipryl is a new experimental medication,” Louis says, holding up the bottle. “It’s not for the faint of heart. I just know cuz Nikki’s friend was prescribed this stuff. Then it turned out it might have the opposite effects. Last I heard, it shouldn’t be prescribed.”
“Doc Romano…” I swallow against the dry lump in my throat. I’m definitely on my way to being sick. “Doc Romano insisted.”
“I don’t know, Gio. That doc might not be so good after all.”
It’s funny when you’re so shit-faced drunk, you remember bits and pieces of a moment. Louis’s comment is the last I remember of the night. I’m out for the count.
My head throbs like somebody’s taken a hammer to the base of my skull. I groan, barely able to open my eyes, and rub a hand across my unshaven beard. I feel like shit, and when I stagger off the bed and see my reflection in the nearest mirror, I look like shit too.
Wrinkled dress shirt and pants. Bleary eyes. Hair greasy and disheveled.
The bittersweet smell of whiskey clings to my skin. I need a shower.
The hot water wakes me the rest of the way up. I emerge a different man, skin refreshed and hair slick, with a towel wrapped around my waist. My mind is set on last night, piecing together what the hell happened.
“Louis,” I mumble, remembering his presence. He’d shown up in my office as I was about to… “Fuck.”
I dress fast, throwing on a black T-shirt and jeans and wrenching open my bedroom door. I find him in the den downstairs. He’s passed out on the sofa, a sports magazine splayed open on his wide chest. I nudge him.
“Huh?” He jerks awake.
“How much of a dumb fuckwas I last night?” I ask.
His grin is a sleepy one. “Pretty big. Did you see the bucket I left near your bed?”
“I wasn’t in a good state of mind.”
I’m still not. The only difference is I’m sober right now.
Louis sits up and scratches his short, wavy, brown hair. “You passed out in the middle of talking. I figured I’d wait here ’til the morning.”
“My head feels like it’s about to explode.”
“Standard hangover. You’re not a youngin’ anymore, Boss—or should I say Gio?” He laughs when I tilt my head to the side in confusion. “You told me to call you that. You said I was your brother.”
“You stopped me from doing something very stupid. That’s more than my brother ever did.” I wipe my hand over my face and drop into the first seat nearby. The more I think about last night, the more comes back to me. I had too much to drink, dove deep in a pity party, and made an ass of myself. One thing sticks out, though, and that’s my last moments. “Lou, what were we talking about before I passed out? It was Falynn and her meds?”
“That’s right. I was telling you that doc of hers might not be so good.”
Despite my splitting headache, I clench hard on my jaw. “I’ve known Doc Romano for years. He’s one of the best fertility specialists in the country. Why would he give her medications that were proven to have harmful side effects?”
