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“I’ve got to tell you, you’re a hell of a lot stronger than most of the guys I know.” He points to the bed, his brows lifting in a silent question. I nod, so he joins me, sitting on the edge the way Jock did when he questioned me. He hasn’t been back since. Thank God for small favors and all that.
I can’t help but tense up at the memory. Is that what this is about? More questions, more attempts at digging into my memory? I need to remind myself these are not my friends. He’s not checking on me because he likes me or cares or anything like that. “Did your brother send you up here to make sure I’m not going to run away now that I’m up and around?”
“No way. Jesus. I’m kind of offended you would think that.” But he says it with that little touch of humor in his voice, like he’s teasing. So I don’t know whether or not to believe him. “I saw the doctor on his way out and asked how you were doing. He said maybe you could use little company—and I can see why.” He looks around, scowling.
“It is kind of quiet up here. And now that I’m not getting round-the-clock meds, I’m awake a lot more than I was before.”
“Leave it to me. I’ll get you a TV in here, anything you need. The sky’s the limit.” I can almost believe he means it. That this isn’t some kind of game.
“I would really appreciate that. Luca never got around to it, and I did ask.”
He tries to hide it, but there’s a definite shift in his expression when I mention Luca’s name. “Yeah, well, he tends to get wrapped up in his own shit and forget everything else. Don’t hold it against him. He’s only ever been a big deal in his own mind before. He’s still not used to actually having to juggle so many things at once.”
“You don’t have to apologize for him.”
“Oh, is that what it sounded like I was doing?” He winks, and this time I can’t help chuckling. The man’s not a good person, but he has a fun sense of humor. “Believe me. The last thing I would ever do is apologize for my brother. He can do that on his own.”
“But he is okay, though?” Why did I ask that? Am I that desperate for an excuse as to why he hasn’t been up to see me? Like if he was sick or hurt, that would give him an alibi?
“He’s as okay as he ever is, which varies depending on who you ask.” He hits me with a cool, appraising look that I absolutely loathe. I should have known better than to say too much. “Don’t take it personally. Believe me, he’s taking what happened to you very seriously.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean he’s ready to commit mass murder, that’s what I mean.” I can’t help but flinch away at his change in tone—he’s gone from joking and teasing to murderous. Now I can see how he would fly off the handle out of nowhere and blow somebody’s brains out.
“Because of me?”
He frowns for a second, then shakes his head. “Don’t take that on yourself. Believe me, if anybody loses their life, they had it coming to them for ever getting tied up with that entire diseased family.”
I shouldn’t, but I can’t help smiling sadly. I’m so tired. “You know, they could say the same thing about me. That I deserved what happened to me because I got caught up with your family. Only that wasn’t my choice, was it?”
A moment passes where we do nothing but look into the other’s eyes. I think for the first time we have a real understanding. “I see what you mean. Still, what’s done is done, and there’s no talking him out of it. But you shouldn’t worry about that. All you need to think about right now is getting better. And you know if there’s anything you need, all you have to do is ask.”
He grins, picking up my bell. “You always have this, right?”
I get the feeling I’m being patted on the head and called a good girl, but that’s fine. I’m not in the mood to do any more talking. “Right. Thanks for coming to say hi. It does get kind of lonely up here.”
“Like I said, I’ll get you all set up. You’ll have all the movies and shows your heart desires. Anything else you need, just tell me.” He gives my hand an awkward pat before standing and heading straight to the door. There’s part of me that wonders if he doesn’t want to run, to get away from me. I’m not easy to look at, and if there’s one thing I’ve come to learn about men in this world, it’s that they like their women pretty. I don’t make the cut right now.
If anything, I should be glad about that. I don’t want to be part of any of this.
I don’t want anything to do with Luca.
That’s what I keep telling myself as I close my eyes, now desperate for sleep to come and take me away from the pain.
Physical and otherwise.
