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A moment later, Dante reaches into his pocket, pulling out his phone. I didn’t hear it go off, but apparently, he did. “Let me take this call.”
I swear at him under my breath when he walks out of the room as though he’s unbothered by this whole situation. The bastard has never been worried about anything a day in his life; that’s what makes him a good leader. I worry too much. Salvatore parties too much. Luciano doesn’t care enough. Father would never have expected the three of us to run the business as long as Dante was around.
In my older brother’s absence, I consider what I want for my child one day. Christine doesn’t want kids yet, but I can’t imagine marrying her next month and not starting our family as soon as possible. I want a brood of Terlizzi children, half a dozen at least, running around the house and keeping us busy.
I want to teach my sons how to fish, how to throw a football, how to respect a woman. I want to teach my daughters how to protect themselves, how to play the piano, how to say no to a man that doesn’t treat them like a queen.
I don’t want my kids to grow up the same way that me and my brothers did. I want them to see that their mother and father love each other. I want them to know that they could come to us with anything. I want them to believe that anything is possible if they’re willing to work hard enough.
I will respect if Dante and Adalina have kids one day and choose to bring them up in the traditional Family lifestyle, but I don’t want that for my kids. I never even wanted this for myself.
Dante’s return jolts me out of my reverie. “Hey, there’s news,” he declares, a tinge of uncertainty coloring his words. “Well, maybe it’s not entirelygoodnews, but it’s better than nothing.”
Maybe it’s the Scotch that’s muddling my head, but I don’t think Dante makes a lot of sense right now. “How about you tell me what the news is, and I’ll determine if it’s good or bad?”
“See, you’re going to think this is bad news, but it’s really not.” There’s a look of apprehension on his face that wasn’t there before. Dante uncharacteristically walks over to the portable bar and pours himself a drink.
I narrow my eyes at him. I’ve been around my brother long enough to know when he’s keeping something from me. “What aren’t you telling me, Dante?”
He sips on the amber liquid, his nose scrunching with distaste. “This stuff is terrible. I should’ve gotten you something better for Christmas.”
“Dante,” I snap my fingers, demanding his attention. “Who was on the phone?”
He tosses back the rest of his Scotch, slamming the glass on the bar when he finishes. “You’re going to want to freak out, but I suggest that you don’t, okay? There’s a lot of factors in play and too much at stake to lose your?—”
“Just spit it out,” I cut him off.
“Christine is in the hospital, but don’t worry, she’s alright!” He hurriedly adds. “Just a few broken ribs, lots of swelling and bruising, the usual for when someone is attacked.”
His admission takes me right back to July 4th, when the police called and told me that Christine was in an accident. They said she’d be fine. They comforted me with facts about her health. They told me she was on her way to the hospital, and I couldsee her anytime. But their cold, unfeeling delivery only served to make me feel worse.
“I have to see her,” I mumble.
Thankfully, Dante moves quicker than my whiskey-laden mind, stepping in front of me and gripping my shoulders firmly. “No, Nic. Silas said when he brought up her family during intake, she started having a panic attack. They had to sedate her, and she hasn’t woken up yet. When they asked her boyfriend about contacting her family, he said he didn’t have anyone’s info, and he’d wait until she woke up first to make any decisions.”
The unfamiliar name sends my anger spiraling. “Who thefuckis Silas?”
“Silas Stone,” Dante states calmly. “He’s the Head of Emergency Medicine at the hospital, and he’s on the Family payroll. He saw your name on Christine’s intake paperwork as her emergency contact. He called me because he was worried after her reaction when she arrived.”
I was threatening to kill her and lock her up when all along she’d been at the hospital. I’m a terrible human being. I’m the worst man in the world. I deserve every bad thing that’s happening to me. “You said her boyfriend was with her. Who is with her, Dante?” I demand, dark clouds of jealousy thundering inside me.
His face morphs into a wince. “I don’t know, honestly. Silas said the intake paperwork was filled out by a man named Jackson Reid.”
The name doesn’t ring any bells. But the good news is that it means he probably isn’t related to her uncles.
“I know that the two of you have become really close lately,” Dante begins, carefully picking and choosing his words. “But could it be that she was seeing someone else?”
“No,” I declare with unwavering conviction. If Christine had been seeing another man, I would have known, and I would have eliminated him before he had the chance to touch her. “We need to go to the hospital. I need answers. I have to?—“
But my brother cuts me off with a shake of his head. “Right now, she isn’t accepting visitors. Silas said when she wakes up, he’ll see if he can get her to change her mind. But for now, all we can do is wait.”
“Wait?” The word echoes off my tongue with uncertainty. “I can’twait, Dante. I feel like I’m going crazy. Every fiber of my being is screaming at me to rip you limb from limb until you can’t stop me from going to the hospital. I want to hurt you. I want to hurt you to make myself feel better.”
In an uncharacteristic move, Dante takes a step back and spreads his arms out. “Then do it,” he declares. “If hitting me would make you feel better, then hit me. I’ll let you hit me until I can’t take it anymore.”
His acceptance dulls the painful throbbing of fear and anger in my chest. “Why would you let me do that?”
“Because right now, we don’t have all the facts. All we know is Christine arrived at the hospital badly beaten, accompanied by a man we’ve never heard of. We don’t know what we’d be walking into if we went to the hospital right now. So if staying here and waiting makes your skin crawl, take it out on me. I can handle it. Whatever you need, little brother, you just tell me, and I’ll make it happen.”
