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“No shit,” Marco muttered. “Hold on a second.”
Lowering the phone, Marco closed his eyes.
He could ambush the Zeppelin gang with Liam and FBI, or handle it himself.
If he brought in Liam, it would be over quickly.
But was Liam on his side, or Oleg’s?
“Of course,” Marco muttered, opening his eyes as the answer came to him. “That’s exactly what I’ll do.”
Lifting the phone back to his ear, a grim smile crossed his lips.
“Sorry about that, Liam, someone needed to talk to me.”
“I was just thinking about the brothers,” Liam said grimly. “I want five minutes in a room with those ugly motherfuckers.”
“If that’s what you want, I can make it happen,” Marco said confidently. “This is what I suggest.”
* * *
Brent had wrapped ice around Steph’s ankle, poured her a brandy, then helped her out of her sweater. Not wanting to take off her tee-shirt, he’d sliced the back of it with his pocket knife to examine her shoulder.
“I don’t think this is serious,” he said reassuringly. “When you hit the ground you must have landed on something hard, like a rock or tree branch. You’ve got a nasty bruise coming up.”
“I didn’t feel much at first. It started to ache, and on the way home it was killing me.”
“Sometimes people can be injured and not experience pain for as long as a day or two,” he remarked, moving the icepack from her ankle to wrap a bandage around it. Then lowering his voice, he asked, “Steph, where’s Stu, and why did you jump on that bike and take his place?”
“Uh, you need to ask Marco,” she replied solemnly. “I can’t tell you.”
“Ask me what?” Marco inquired, startling them both as he walked through the door. “First, though, how’s the patient?”
“She has a sprained ankle and bruised shoulder,” Brent replied, rising to his feet. “She needs to keep off that foot and continue to ice it. I also recommend CBD cream. I use it all the time. I have an extra jar I’ll be happy to give you.”
“It’s not dislocated?”
“Thankfully, no.”
“That’s good news. What’s your question?”
“I was asking what happened with Stu,” Brent said hesitantly, “and why she jumped on that bike.”
“Your questions are understandable,” Marco replied. “Check in with Benny. He’ll bring you up to speed.”
“Okay. Thanks, Mr. Moretti.”
“Thankyou, Brent,” Marco said gratefully, shaking his hand. “You’ve been terrific. I’ll take it from here.”
“I’m glad I could help, sir.”
Waiting until Brent had left the room, Marco sat next to Steph and took her hand, immediately noticing several Band-Aids over telltale yellow iodine.
“What’s this?”
“Cuts. I didn’t even see the blood until I found the gloves in the saddle bag and went to put them on. When I hit Stu with that bottle, glass sprayed everywhere. I was panicked at the time. I guess that’s why I didn’t feel it, but Marco, have you heard from Max?”
“Not a word,” he replied, pulling out his phone and placing the call. “I’ll try him again. Nope. Straight to voicemail.”
