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Fifteen
"You look like shit.” I handed Frankie a cup of burnt hospital coffee.
Struggling to sit up on the teal polyester chair, he grimaced as he sloshed coffee on his fingers. “Thanks.” He blew on it and took a sip, wincing at the scalding heat. When I'd gotten the call from the hospital at six a.m., I found Frankie alone in the kitchen.
I sat next to him and hazarded a taste of my own dark brew. “Remind me never to drink with Rosa. Looking at you, I don’t think I’d survive.”
Frankie grunted but didn’t add anything else as he massaged his forehead.
Marco was pacing outside the waiting room on the phone while Rosa was at the desk asking for the millionth time for an update.
In a huff, she rejoined us. “Five hours, and they have no updates. Ridiculous.”
A couple of cops passed Marco, and he stopped walking, eyeing them with extreme disgust. Since we arrived at the hospital, we’d fallen into an uncomfortable standoff with the police guarding Luca’s room. While we kept being told there was no information, we knew exactly where he was.
“Fern said it shouldn’t be much longer.” I’d been doing everything I could to distract myself from the office behind the desk that Fern disappeared into with the head of security. The door opened, and I jumped to my feet. Unfortunately, a lone cop stepped out, not the lawyer that was costing us an arm and a leg to do absolutely nothing. Grumbling, I slid back in my seat. “Of course, that was four hours ago.”
With his eyes closed and head resting against the wall, Frankie mumbled, “If I get locked up, I hope you guys are just as pushy.”
“You get locked up, and my sister will kill me.” Rosa absentmindedly patted his knee as she watched the hallway.
“Nah. Ma would be too busy at church praying for me.” His lips pulled into a small smile, making him look like a man having a pleasant dream.
“Mrs. Moretti?”
“Yes,” Rosa and I said in unison.
The cop looked between us and directed the rest at me. “You can come see your husband now.”
“Thank you.” I grabbed my purse as I followed him closely to the door with two guards on it.
He opened the door and said, "You have an hour."
“Thank—” I took a step into the room and stopped dead in my tracks. “You.” The officer shut the door, and I bit the inside of my cheek. Sitting beside my sleeping husband was Fern, but what had me seeing red was her pale hand wrapped around his limp fingers.
“Get your hands off my fucking husband,” I hissed, careful to keep my voice down.
Fern jumped, immediately dropping his hand. With wide eyes, she backed away from the bed and my injured husband. “I-I—”
“Just thought you had the right to touch my husband? How long have you been in here? I never saw you leave the office.”
Fern shook her head. “There’s another door. I’ve only been in here a couple of minutes.”
I stalked toward her, pinning her against the wall without laying a finger on her. “I’ve been nothing but polite to you, but that ends now. You see that man?”
She glanced at him. Her gaze lingered longer than I liked, so I grabbed her jaw and yanked her focus back to me.
“I own every part of him. His mind, body, soul, and heart. He branded himself with my fucking name. If you ever think of putting your grubby disloyal hands on him, I’ll cut them off.”
Fern trembled under my touch, her eyes welling with tears. “I’m not disloyal. I’m helping him.”
I leaned in, nose to nose with her. “You left him for being who he was. You’re helping because you know you made the wrong call walking away. The only problem is he moved on, and he moved on with me.” I tightened my hold, and she winced. "So, I recommend you act strictly professionally if you don't want to find out just how perfect I am for Luca. I'm not afraid to kill for what's mine."
“You can’t threaten me.” She tried to break my hold, but I only dug my fingertips in more.
“It’s not a threat, sweetheart. It’s a fucking promise.” I pushed her face away, the back of her head bouncing off the wall.
Fern cried out, her hands going to where she’d made impact. “Okay. I understand.” Her voice had no defiance, so I took a step back, letting her squeeze past me. “Is there anything else?”
