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She does, and before I know it, light snores are coming from her. She must’ve been up all night.
Kyle flanks my other side.
“I never knew there were hospital beds this big or comfy,” I joke. We’re clearly in one of the private sections of the hospital.
Kyle doesn’t grin. He keeps stroking the side of my face, checking me over. When his gaze finally drops to mine, he murmurs, “I’m so fucking sorry.”
“For what? It was an accident,” I whisper.
He shakes his head. “That motherfucker did it on purpose.”
“Who?”
“Dean Walsh. He was the driver.”
“Did they catch him?”
He nods.
“Then it’s over,” I say, feeling comforted that Dean didn’t injure Eve at all and that he’s behind bars.
Yet, Kyle says, “It’s not over. But it will be soon.”
The dark meaning behind his words isn’t missed on me. A part of me wants to tell him to forget it, to let the police and authorities handle it.
But I know my husband better than that.
He’ll never let Dean get away with what he did.
CHAPTER45
Kyle
“This isn’t a place I ever wanted you to visit,” my father says as he comes up behind me.
We’re in the basement of one of the abandoned buildings my family owns. Very few people on earth know about these properties because it’s not a place anyone ever wants to enter.
I look into my father’s eyes, and then past his shoulder into the eyes of my three uncles and my grandfather. Finally, I lock eyes with Diego. The look in his eyes is as hard as the one I’m certain is displayed in my gaze.
“You’ve all known we’d end up here one day.”
My father looks back at the rest of the eldest men in our family. They nod in agreement.
I don’t say anything as I go over to grab the wooden baseball bat that’s leaning against the wall. Bat in hand, I make my way over to the center of the room. At the center, Dean Walsh sits strapped in a wooden chair, duct tape on his mouth.
I rip off the tape.
“You wanted so bad to prove these properties exist.” I circle the room with my eyes before landing back on Dean. “You did your best to end up here, didn’t you?”
“Fuck you. This is illegal!” he yells, as if that will change his fate.
“That didn’t stop you from blackmailing my wife, did it?” I hold the bat in the perfect swinging position. “I’ll let you know something, Dean. These houses,” I circle the room with my gaze, Dean’s eyes trailing mine, “… aren’t for business. No. We don’t need to kill for business. This space is only for motherfuckers who commit the most egregious acts against our family. Hurting our women.”
Dean’s eyes widen in terror.
I swing the bat and narrowly miss Dean’s head.
He ducks but can’t go far as he’s tied to the chair. He starts hyperventilating, making me laugh.
