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“Do you think he heard everything?” Frowning, she raises an eyebrow in question.
Nodding, I answer. “I could tell by the intense glare he gave me that he definitely did. Given his character, he is likely on his way to kill Tim. You need to stop him.” My eyes are full of hope.
“I… I can’t. He won’t listen to me.”
“Very well. Then help me up. I’m going.” Her expression shifts to confusion, as if she’s trying to make sense of what I just said.
“Absolutely not. You’re not moving from your bed!” Bailey exclaims.
My annoyance is palpable as she sends me back the same piercing glare.
“Bai. Tim has been shot. I will not stay here,” I pinch my nose, “not when I already know Aidan called Scott and is on his way to his da’s mansion.” Her sigh is one of resignation, and I realise that I’ve finally convinced her.
“Fine. But you better stay out of it if they’re fighting.”
“Promise. And don’t think for a second that I won’t ask why Caleb Preston told you all of that. Since when are you two talking? And since when has he been sharing his secrets with you?” A flush of pink spreads across her cheeks, showing her embarrassment.
“Spill it,” I say as she helps me get up from my bed. I’m dressed in my comfortable leggings and a T-shirt, and all that’s left is to slip on my trainers with some assistance.
“I don’t know what you want me to say. I stormed into his office, my worry turning into panic as I raised my voice. After that, he spilled it without me having to say anything else. I’m not sleeping with him if it’s what you’re asking. I’m already seeing someone else, and Caleb is way too old for me.” Standing up, she helps me walk towards her car.
“Maybe. But he is hot.” Her eyes grow wider in disbelief at my words, as if I’ve lost my mind, “Don’t look at me like that. I might have fallen for his son, but I’m not blind. I know how to recognise when a man is attractive, and Caleb Preston, with his silver hair, is smoking hot.”
Her face is already red, but she flushes a bit more as the conversation goes on. Glancing at her with a smile that conveys my understanding, I take a moment to observe her.
“What?” she asks, starting her car.
“Nothing. Just interesting.”
“Just put your seatbelt on.” As we hit the road and start to drive, I let out a laugh that echoes throughout the car.
The voices inside the mansion grow louder and more animated with each step we take. Despite my efforts to quicken my pace, the searing pain feels like a fireball shooting through my body. The drive left me feeling even more drained, which did nothing to help my case. I’m not saying that my sister is a bad driver, but we came close to crashing the car when she swerved to avoid a hedgehog that was in the middle of the road. I almost lost my life because of a freaking hedgehog. Okay, I might be overreacting, but the bushes were just a few inches away from us.
The volume of the voices increases as we get closer to Tim’s bedroom, but Fusco abruptly stops us.
“Lassies. What can I do for you?” Every time I see this guy, a shiver runs down my spine, and I sense that Bailey feels the same way.
“Matteo,” I acknowledge. “I’m just here to stop the war before it starts.” His eyes bore into mine with an unwavering intensity.
“Shouldn’t you be resting instead of tempering them?” he asks.
“I probably should. Now, if you would excuse us.” Gesturing towards the noises, I dismiss him with a wave of my hand. Bailey is glued to my side, uncomfortable in a house full of hitmen. Understandable.
“Do you think they hit him?” she whispers.
“They better not have.” Reaching the bedroom door, I open it without knocking.
In a perfectly choreographed moment, the three of them glance at me and speak in unison, their voices echoing together.
“What are you doing here?” Scott asks with worry in his eyes.
“You should leave,” begs Tim.
“Why aren’t you in bed?” Aidan asks, his voice dripping with fury.
Anger is palpable in the room, emanating from each of them. My breath is ragged and uneven, as if I have been running for miles without stopping as I try to hide my pain. Giving them any more ammunition would only make things worse.
“You,” I say, pointing an accusing finger towards Aidan. “What do you think you’re doing? He is in recovery, for god’s sake.”
