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“Gio,” she whines, extracting herself from my weak grip. “I don’t want to touch you the wrong way and hurt you.”

“There’s nothing you can do that’d cause more damage than this…” I gesture to my chest, which feels like it’s a janky motor that’s been tinkered with so much, it’s a beat away from conking out for good. “Tell me everything that’s happened.”

Falynn launches into a recap of the last forty-eight hours. We’d been lounging by the pool when Zoe Peronne popped up disguised as a sever, fanatical and hell bent on revenge. She opened fire on us—but specifically Falynn—and I’d caught on a split second in time. I took the bullets. Three of them landed squarely in my chest and knocked me unconscious in a puddle of my own blood.

Surgery had been performed. The docs said I was lucky, my narrowest escape of death yet. Zoe was dead before the cops even arrived. My men emptied a clip in her. Apparently, the stains of both of our blood still mar the poolside floor.

Falynn says she hasn’t left my side for more than a few minutes. Even got into it with one of the nurses on shift about it. Louis has been around nonstop too. So have my security, posted threateningly outside the door to my private hospital room. Guests aren’t usually afforded such accommodations, but I’m no regular guest—Mayor Easley’s bouquet of flowers sits perched on a mantle in the background among the others from other prominent figures in the city and across the country.

“When do I get to go home?” I ask, gripping Falynn’s hand again. It’s soft and soothes at a time like this, when I’ve gone so long in a dreamless state.

“The doctor says it depends. Probably not for a couple more days.”

“Will you be my at-home nurse? I’m picturing the little white dress now.”

She rolls her eyes and bites away her smile, nibbling on her bottom lip. “Gio, how did you have three bullets in you not forty-eight hours ago and you’re already in pervert mode?”

“Did somebody say pervert?” Louis asks as he barges into the room, the big and brawny enforcer he is. He carries more well-wishes gifts with him—includinga tin of Italian butter cookies his mom, Reyna Civella, baked for me. Dusting off his hands once he’s set everything down, he stands at the foot of my bed. “How the hell are you feeling, Gio?”

“Like somebody blew a giant hole through my chest.”

“Sounds accurate,” he says. “You’re invincible. You’ve been blown up and blasted in the chest and you’re still here to tell the tale.”

“That’s right. I must have some of the best luck.”

“Maybe it’s another chance for you to atone for your sins. You can start helping little old ladies cross the street and wishing those you care about happy birthday.”

I scrub a hand over his weary face. “Why do I have a feeling that last one is personal?”

“Well…there has been a time or two you’ve forgotten my birthday.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!”

“A happy birthday is all I ask.”

“Be a man and stop bitching. That’s all I fucking ask,” I snap to his and Falynn’s laughter.

Louis tends to crack jokes when he’s uncomfortable. Though he’s full of them in the coming minutes, I can sense his relief; he’s truly glad I’m okay.

Tasha shows up not too long after. She hesitantly taps on the door and asks if I’m up for another visitor. The three of us welcome her inside. She and Louis share the briefest glance before she joins the group gathering around my bed and asks how I’m doing.

“Another enemy tried to kill me. Just another Tuesday.”

Louis and Tasha laugh, but Falynn frowns. I pretend I don’t notice and spend the next few minutes entertaining my company. Louis and Tasha hang around for a while, playing along with me, keeping the conversation surprisingly light. They seem to have reached a common ground in the wake of the shooting.

When they leave, they leave together. Falynn waits a few seconds, though I already know where things are headed—the worry’s scribbled all over her pretty features.

“Something bothering you?” I ask.

She shudders out a breath, picking at the knitted blanket on my bed. “It was just such a good day for us. Then everything turned so bad so fast. Like always.”

“My life. There’s no short supply of people who want me dead.”

My assigned nurse interrupts us, popping in to perform her hourly check of my vitals and general condition. As she teases me about finally waking up and how she’ll ensure I’m given the “good stuff” from the cafeteria, Falynn eases into the background.

She probably thinks I don’t notice. I’m too distracted by the nurse poking and prodding me with needles and funneling me medications, but she couldn’t be more wrong.

What Falynn still doesn’t realize even now, after damn near six years, is that she will always have my attention. There’s no other subject I pay attention to more.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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