Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
I wasn’t going to break down in the hospital.
“I’m going to go… try to figure some things out. But, ah, I’ll be back,” I told him, then walked back out of the room.
“Miss Moon?” the nurse from the desk called as I was about to head toward the stairwell.
“Yeah?” I asked, turning back.
“We’re not really supposed to do this, but since he’s unconscious, we can’t ask him. Your father’s wallet…” she said, producing a bag with it inside. “It’s just that… there’s a lot of money in it,” she said. “I saw it when I looked for his emergency contact. And, well, things do tend to disappear in a hospital.”
“Oh, right. Of course. Thank you so much,” I said, reaching for the bag. “I will hold onto it for him.”
“That’s the spirit,” she said, giving me an encouraging smile.
I didn’t stop to consider what that might mean as I turned and took myself into the stairwell. I didn’t open the wallet as I rushed down the stairs.
Whether I wanted to admit it or not, seeing my father like that—a strong, formidable man brought so low—yeah, it was scaring the shit out of me. If they could do that to him, they could do infinitely worse to me.
I wanted to get back down to August.
As much as I hated relying on anyone, least of all some random man, I had to accept that I was too weak to be alone in this. Physically, at least. Mentally, I could run circles around these assholes. Which was what I planned to do. To figure out who was the mind behind this attack on my father and the attempt on me.
Then, well, I don’t know.
Ask August how much it is to hire a hitman?
I don’t know.
I needed coffee. And some time to think.
I pushed open the door to the right floor, walking out in the opposite direction of the elevator that I should have been emerging from. The elevator that August was staring at, body tight.
What was more surprising was that there was another man beside him.
Tall, dark-haired, wearing a suit.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out that he was another mafia guy.
The crazy thing was, they all looked like that. Handsome and polished. I’d met dozens of them at a wedding a while back. Almost all of them had a name that ended in a vowel too. It was insane.
All except August.
Well, no, even him.
He told me once his full name was Augustine. After the saint.
“Can we get out of here?” I asked, making both men jolt slightly. Which, yeah, I had to admit brought me a little joy. Big, strong mafia guys startled by the sound of a woman’s voice.
“Hey,” August said, getting to his feet. “Yeah. You alright?”
“Well, just saw my dad with tubes sticking out of him and his face beaten beyond recognition. So… somewhere on the not alright scale,” I admitted, glance moving over toward the stranger with the slight bit of gray in his hair. Which I had to admit just made him hotter.
“This is Aurelio. My cousin. Aurelio, Traveler.”
“Hey, angel. You look like you need a cup of coffee.”
“I do,” I agreed, glancing down at his hand. “But not that shit,” I said, getting a small smile out of him.
“Let’s get back to the hotel where we can talk,” August suggested, holding an arm out toward the elevators.
“I, ah, okay,” I agreed, following him.
I wasn’t about to admit that I’d picked up a handy-dandy new phobia to August, of all people. But with each step toward the doors, I could feel that panic settling in again.
The cold sweat, the pounding pulse, the tight throat and heavy chest.
By the time the doors slid closed, I felt ready to climb the walls to escape through the emergency hatch.
I was just thankful that August was standing near the doors with his back to me.
Aurelio, though, was practically shoulder-to-shoulder with me on the back wall.
Just when I was sure I was going to pass out from the panic, Aurelio’s hand shifted, two of his fingers tapping out a strange beat right on the front of my hand that had a death grip on that silver rail thing that wrapped the sides of the elevator car.
I glanced over at him, but found just his profile as he stared ahead, but continued the little beat.
Which distracted me long enough for the car to stop dropping, and the doors to slide open.
Then and only then did he catch my gaze, giving me a little wink, then waiting for me to move ahead of him, so he could flank my back.
I wasn’t a mafia dude, but I was pretty sure that was a tactical move on their part. One in front of me, one behind, as we moved through the hospital and outside into the lot.