AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I scrub a hand over my face.
Scrutinizing me through narrowed eyes, she says, “You look like you haven’t slept in days. Why don’t you go home and get some rest? I have to run a few tests. You’ll only be in the way.”
“I want to be here when—”
I catch myself, not wanting to admit how desperately I want to be here for my wife on the odd chance that she calls for me. She probably cursed me rather than asked for me, but I don’t want to hear it from a nurse again.
“When she wakes up?” The doctor’s look is compassionate. “You’ll be the first to know. Now, go on.” She shoos me away. “I have work to do.”
Reluctantly, I abandon my post, but only because she has to take care of Sabella.
“That’s a good man,” Dr. Casanova says. “Enjoy that nap. You deserve it.”
Sleep isn’t an option, but I don’t bother to say so. I walk outside, get into my car, and drive to Bastia.
I instructed my men to remain inconspicuous at the hospital in the city. They’re posing as visitors in the lounge opposite Roch’s room.
“Anything?” I ask in a low voice as I make my way to the vending machine.
The man in the direct line of my vision shakes his head. “No surprise visits.”
I pop in a few coins and select a can of soda and a chocolate bar. I finish the bar in two bites and down the Coke before dumping the can in the trash. Then I cross the hallway and enter the room.
Roch sits up in the hospital bed. He has more tubes connected to his body than a human experiment in a sci-fi movie. A tall blonde perches on the edge of his bed, clutching his hand in hers. At the tilt of his head, she gets up and shoots me a curious look before leaving the room.
I walk to the bed. “Lucky bastard.”
His eyes are hard. Cold. “That fucker is lucky he got me before I fired a shot at him, or he would’ve been six feet under like his cronies.”
“I’d rather say you’re lucky he’s such a lousy shot. If he’d hit you anywhere else, you would’ve died faster.”
“Yeah.” He snorts. “How lucky for me that it takes hours to die from a bullet in the stomach.”
I glance at his midriff. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m hooked up on morphine, so great.” The iciness returns to his glare. “How’s she doing? My fiancée told me she’s in the village hospital. Everyone in town is talking about it.”
My back goes stiff. Our business is fucking private. “She’s stable.”
“I’m sorry,” he says, not shying away from holding my gaze. “I’m sorry I didn’t get there sooner.”
I clench my jaw. Nod. That one is on me, not him. It’s my blame to carry.
He pulls his eyes into slits and drops his volume. “He dead?”
I nod again.
“Good,” he says, nostrils flaring. “I hope you made his last hours memorable.”
There’s no question about that. Like I promised, he cried for his mommy. “You gave my wife a phone.”
“I knew that’s why you came.” He looks me up and down. A hint of humor laces his tone. “Under the guise of caring about my welfare.”
“I don’t give a damn about you.”
He laughs then winces. “Yeah. I got that the first time round.”
“I did however come here under the guise of thanking you.”
