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“Could it come back on you?”
“What do you think?”
“What about Flynn? Have you heard back from him?”
“Same. Everything’s gone. It was a consolidated attack that even if Massimo had survived Scarpetta, he would have nothing to return to. His men had deserted him, and his real estate torched. We took everything from him except his life, it seems.”
“Are you blaming me for that?”
I fix him with my deadliest stare, and he says bitterly, “Of course not. Nobody expected Winter to take matters into her own hands. If only she’d known your gun was trained on the back of his head, she wouldn’t have damaged hers.”
I cast my mind back to the moment I almost pulled the trigger. The exact second, she moved by his side, and it could so easily have been her body we dragged from the restaurant. Just the thought of it tears me apart and I reach for the whiskey and drain the glass in seconds.
“Keep a clear head. We have business to attend to.”
Angelo snaps and I pointedly ignore him and refill my glass. Sighing, he stands and whispers angrily, “We’ve got what we wanted. Winter’s alive, and it’s only a matter of time before she regains her memory. I’m sure none of us are prepared for that.”
He heads off and beckons his wife to follow him, and I stare at the seat she vacated and feel the magnetic pull. Standing, I take her seat and stare with a hunger at the woman who appears to be sleeping. She looks so perfect, so beautiful, like a rose that has been scratched by one of its own thorns. Part broken but still the most beautiful thing I have ever seen and despite being so fragile, she has a strength that will cause her to bloom once more.
Her eyes open and I glance away, conscious I may be scaring her. I understand I’m not your average Joe and scare the fuck out of most people who catch my eye, but I want a different kind of look from this woman beside me.
She smiles shyly and I swear it melts my heart and my expression softens as I say huskily, “I’m sorry to wake you.”
“I wasn’t really sleeping, just resting my eyes.”
I note the dark circles under her eyes despite her extended sleep in the hospital and I’m concerned that we are moving too fast.
“Did they give you any medication? Are you feeling sick?”
She shakes her head. “Just painkillers, but I’m guessing they’re wearing off.”
“Show them to me.”
She reaches into her purse, and I grasp a bottle of water nearby and tear off the cap, offering it to her with a soft, “Drink the lot. It will help.”
“Thank you doctor.”
She giggles and I swear it’s the sweetest sound in the world and it actually pastes a smile on my own angry face.
“That’s better.”
“What is?” I’m not sure what she means, and she whispers, “It’s good to see you smiling.”
“I have something to smile about now.”
“What?”
“You, Winter. You’re back where you belong.”
“Why did I leave?” She’s curious and yet I’m not sure if she could cope with the truth and I sigh, aching to grasp her hand and raise it to my lips. “Let’s just say your husband wasn’t the most sociable person in the world.”
“My husband.”
She looks worried.
“I should remember I had a husband. Where is he now?”
“Somewhere he can’t hurt you.”
