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“I have no idea, but I’ll ask him that question right before I kill him.” I blow out a breath. “But first, I need to make sure my wife is okay.”
My father grips my shoulder. “I’m proud of you, Benny. I don’t know if I say that enough, but I’m honored to be your father.”
It’s as if I needed those words to help deal with the guilt of today.
“What happened to Neomi wasn’t your fault,” he tells me. “It was Vincent’s. Don’t let your mind go there.”
“Is that how you felt when Vinny took Natalia?”
“At first, no. I almost let it eat me alive. But then I realized it was more important to help my wife deal with the trauma of what happened than feel sorry for myself.”
“I’m going to kill them for creating that trauma.”
“Take care of your wife. Then, we’ll kill them.”
* * *
Neomi is in stable condition,but that doesn’t mean she’s okay.
I stay by her bedside. My hand has been in hers so long that I’m surprised they haven’t bonded like scar tissue. The beeping monitors and fluorescent lighting in the room give me a headache. I’ll give Concetta another hour with the lights on since she’s in the corner, working on a crossword. But they will be turned off soon.
It’s been eight hours since they admitted Neomi into the hospital, but there’s already a row of flowers andget wellcards. Natalia, Gigi, and Neomi’s sisters raided the gift shop.
Everyone went home, except for Concetta and me. Concetta offered to stay the night with Neomi so I could go home and rest, but I told her it wasn’t an option. I added that the couch and TV were all hers, and I’d sleep on the recliner.
The recliner is uncomfortable.
Worn.
Too many stressed people have sat in it by their loved ones.
Neomi has slept the entire time. As much as I want to wake her, to ask how she’s feeling and tell her I’m here, I hold back. She needs her rest.
For the past five minutes, Concetta has been weirdly staring at me, as if she has a secret she wants to share but isn’t sure how to reveal it.
I know she’s figured it out when she slams the crossword book closed.
“You know, when we arrived at the hospital, I wanted to yell at you,” she starts. “It was unfair to you, but I was angry. I still am angry. Neomi was almost kidnapped because of my son’s actions and shot for yours. No matter what, we women are always the victims of a man’s war.”
I make eye contact with her. “I’m sorry, Concetta. If it had been up to me, I’d have taken the bullet for her.”
“The thing is, she didn’t get caught in the crossfire. She ran straight into it to protect you.” She turns quiet for a moment, the only sound the beeping of machines, before raising a single finger. “I wondered if I’d have done the same for Severino. Honestly, I don’t know. Don’t get me wrong; I love my husband. But, like you, we had an arranged marriage that left me with two choices—love him or hate him. Sometimes, I hate him—especially recently.” She sighs. “Neomi might not know you well, but a woman doesn’t take a bullet for a man she doesn’t love. You’d better give her the love she deserves back.”
My throat is dry, tightening around my words. “Concetta, I don’t hand out promises, nor do I ask for them because they’re the easiest thing to break. But I will promise you one thing. Of the many worries you have, me hurting your daughter should never be on your list.I promise you.”
* * *
I didn’t geta minute of sleep.
Concetta snores like she’s sawing logs, wrapped in a cheap hospital blanket so thin that I wouldn’t even consider it a sheet.
Neomi hasn’t woken up yet, but she’s released a snore or two.
And a weird-ass, random snort while sleep-talking gibberish.
I yawn and check my watch—seven a.m.
Stretching, I stand from the recliner, use the connected restroom, and leave Neomi’s room in search of caffeine.
