“I...want..."
The words fade but her consciousness doesn't. Her tiny trembling hand clutches my lapel. As if I’d ever fucking leave her. I shrug off my jacket and wrap it around her, cuddling her to my chest. Both of us covered in vomit and tears and blood. None of that matters. Nothing matters except she's alive.
I can't stop watching her through the narrow window while Dr. Flanagan updates me. So fragile and shattered. Slowly sipping small spoonfuls of soup with a shaking hand. Glancing up occasionally to meet my gaze. Anxiously waiting for me to return. Just a few more minutes angel, and I'll be all yours.
"She's lucky it was a clean break, making surgery unnecessary. She'll have the cast for about six to eight weeks. They'll monitor her and adjust accordingly while she heals. I'll make sure the best orthopedist and physical therapists are assigned to care for her."
"Are there any other injuries I need to be aware of?"
My chest clenches while I wait for his response. Bat shit crazy woman said consummated even though that stupid motherfucker denied her claim while I beat the hell out of him before my guys dragged him off. My girl needed me more than I needed to kill him. But that’s coming once I get her home and settled.
Thank fuck when the Chief of Staff shakes his head. Pleasant and attentive despite answering my call on Christmas Eve. Well aware no one tells me no. But I still appreciate the lack of any attitude.
“Surprisingly no, after all she experienced. She’ll be weak and sore for a few days. But with rest she’ll be fine."
Motherfuckers. She shouldn't have had to experience anything. But, thank fucking god she's going to be okay. Now I have to force myself to ask about the other person scaring the fuck out of me. Like a pussy ass bitch I don't know if I can take the answer. Not when there's a chance my best friend won't make it. "What about Tucker?"
"Mr. McIntyre tolerated surgery very well and the damage was much less than anticipated for his wound. Of course he has a very long road ahead of him. But again, I'll make sure the best therapists are at your disposal."
The rolling in my stomach finally slows. Tucker's a tough bastard to survive a fucking bullet to the heart. For my girl. Sacrificing himself trying to save her life as well as mine when he figured out the infiltration of Scorpio's men. Knowing I'd never survive if anything happened to her. Or him.
“Can I see him?" I nod toward Chryseis. "I know she'll be anxious to check on him herself too."
“He'll be in recovery for a little while longer and then transferred to ICU. Visitors are not recommended for the first twenty-four hours."
My gaze jerks from her to him. Pissing me off from more than just his impudence not to be able to keep my eyes on Chryseis.
The message absorbs pretty quick. His stubby fingers smoothing down his unwrinkled dress shirt. First time he shows any apprehension during our discussion. Good. He should be afraid.
“I mean generally speaking. Of course, you and Miss Anderson have full access to your friend anytime you would like."
He accepts my outstretched hand, pumping a few too many times in his nervousness. “Thank you Mr. Trivoli."
Should be me thanking him, but we'll leave his gratitude between us. Their fear always serves me well. "Have someone notify me once he's been transferred to his room."
“Certainly sir."
No longer in need of his services, I dismiss him with a curt nod, and shove open the door. Hating the anguish in her expression. Loathing the spoon clattering to her tray from her terror. I hustle my ass over to her, engulfing her small hand in mine. Needing to alleviate her worry. “He's going to be okay. Lots of therapy, just like you. But okay."
Tension leaves her body as her shoulders droop, and she collapses against the pillows bolstering her back. Relief stealing the last of her strength. "Thank goodness. I was so scared."
“I know. We'll be able to see him soon."
As gingerly as I can I drop down next to her. Doing everything I can not to jostle her tender body. “How's your..." I peer into the small bowl. That shit is not any kind of soup. "...yellow water?"
“Broth." I fucking hate the hoarseness straining her voice. From that bitch. From my fingers. "It's supposed to help settle my stomach."
Fucking shit. She's in the god damn hospital. The hospital I fucking help pay for and protect, and she's fucking suffering. Someone else is going to be suffering very soon if someone doesn't get in here and help her. "You're sick?"
“A little bit. The nurse gave me something for nausea..." Her head tilts and she purses her lips together. Scarlet racing up her cheeks as she shudders. "...but I didn't want to take any more pills."
Her voice cracks. A horrible sound far worse than the fucking rasping. Watery trails stream down her ashen skin. I shove the rolling table, holding her meager meal, out of the way and scoot closer, tucking her slight frame against me.
"I'm so sorry. This is all my fault. I didn't know...what Patti was...capable of. I..."
The sobs overcome her unnecessary confession of guilt. Nothing I can do but hold her while she cries. For the very last time over that motherfucking bastard and his psychotic mother. Both of whom will pay for what they've done.
Him with his life. Only her gender spares her. Although I don't think she'll be all that appreciative once she starts serving her time. I've got just as many associates in the women's penitentiary who love to dole out the punishment due to those dumb enough to cross me. "You have nothing to apologize for."
“Maybe if I had been more direct...more clear that I didn't want to be with him..."
Hell the fuck no. I push her back from me with all the restraint I can muster and cup her moist cheeks. "Regardless of what you did or didn't do, no man – no woman – has the right to put their hands on you. I don't give a damn how mad or upset or disappointed they are. You got me?"
Her sweet head nods within my palms. "I've got you."
Wiping away the tears with my thumbs, I finally garner a small smile. That I need more than money or power or oxygen. She's had a rough time, but she's still in there. She's going to be all right. Hopefully strong enough for the next battle too. “I called your Mom and Dad and told them you were in an accident but that you’re okay. Your mom was furious with me for not giving her any details but I thought it would be best to tell them in person.”
“They’re coming here?”
Apprehension fills her exhausted eyes as she glances around the hospital room. Although I rarely do what’s right, this time I had to. For her and for them. Because as much as I want to be selfish and keep her hidden away all to myself, her parents deserve to know what happened even if they hate me. Probably almost as much her best friend does.
“Yeah, I’ve sent the jet for them. Sheena too. She kept rejecting my calls so I finally had to text her.”
“It’ll be okay. We’ll make them understand.”
So much confidence sounds in her voice as she grasps my hand. Another reason I love this woman. Loyal when I don’t deserve it. An optimist when times are the bleakest. I just hope she’s right. Because I’m not giving her up. “They won’t land until morning, so I want you to rest until–"
The door clicks behind us, and I fly off the mattress ready to end anyone who thinks they can fuck with me tonight. Fuck! Father Martin flinches. His bible and Chryseis' bouquet tumble to his feet from his hands flying up in self-protection.
“Don't shoot! I'm just the delivery man."
One of the rare good men in this world. Even rarer guilt floods my veins, and I tuck my gun back into my waistband. “My apologies Reverend."
He pats his chest a few times but still emits a good-natured chuckle. "Mine too. I should know better than to surprise a man who's been as thoroughly tested as you have been for the last few hours." His gaze moves to her. "I just wanted to check on you and bring you this."
After swiping the flowers and his book off the floor, he digs in his pocket and offers her the silver band he pulls out. "I found this in the h
allway and wanted to make sure it was returned to you."
“Gio's ring." The scratchiness grating her voice can't diminish the emotion. "Thank you so much! I never thought I'd see it again."
"I was worried you might think that so I wanted to get it to you as soon as possible. I know you're going to be needing it soon."
She stares at the jewelry in her delicate fingers. Stroking over and over the polished metal. Deep in her own mind. Probably with fucking doubt after the hell she just endured. I fucked up rushing her, and I refuse to make the same mistake. Next time we'll include her parents and friends regardless of how long it takes to convince them of the sincerity of my intentions. "Angel, I–"
"How about now?"
Adrenaline spikes through my overwrought muscles again. I can barely hear her whisper, but I swear to god she said now. "You want to get married tonight?"
"Yes, if that's okay with you."
“Fuck yes it's okay. But are you sure? We can wait if you want."
“I don’t want to wait anymore." She swallows hard. Seemingly from the rawness of her battered throat as well as her emotions. "I said yes to your proposal on a leap of faith. Trusting your words because I wanted to believe them. Hoping we – our relationship – could survive whatever came our way. But, now..." Her sob sounds through her definitive tone. Her gorgeous face bright and dazzling with certainty. "...now I have proof. You and I can survive anything."
“Hell yes we can.”
Father Martin seems just as enthusiastic. A knowing smile as he flips up the leather cover and slides out a thick sheet of paper. “Your marriage license is still valid."
I kiss her temple. Struggling to restrain myself from doing anything more with a priest five feet away. “Then we're doing this."
“Okay then. Take each other’s hands.”
I don’t think I’ve ever seen her more beautiful. She takes my fucking breath away. Radiant despite the absurdity of our situation. But somehow, a hospital wedding seems right. I swore I loved her and would never leave. Marrying her now, just the two of us, couldn’t be more perfect.
"Under these special circumstances I think we can deviate from the traditional vows. We know you've already honored the promises of ‘for better or for worse' and 'in sickness and in health.'" He winks at me with a mischievous smirk. "And we know there won't ever be any 'or poorer' so we can skip that part too."
Chryseis giggles from his teasing. Soft fingers squeezing mine in genuine happiness.
"Instead, do you both pledge to inspire each other's dreams…acknowledge each other's fears…celebrate each other’s successes…support each other, especially in times of failure…indulge each other's irrationalities, and–"
She points to me with that request. Making Father Martin laugh this time. Both of them know me too damn well.
"And, keep only the two of you in this relationship. Faithful in your thoughts, in your hearts and in the marital bed."
I point to her on this one. “Bed is a relative term Books."
Wide eyes meet mine. Horrified I would talk about fucking her in front of the minister. But fuck she’s sexy when she’s naked and sprawled over…well hell across everything. I have to make sure we’re clear on what we’re agreeing to.
“Gio?”
Father Martin leans toward me, urging an answer. That I’ve never been happier to give. "I do."
“Chryseis?”
"I do."
Her unconditional agreement comes through. Her voice. Her smile. Her gaze. All of them absolutely and completely accepting my commitment to her and confirming hers to me.
“Then by the powers invested in me, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”
Fuck yes I will. I sit next to her. Face to face. So I don’t miss a damn thing in her expression. Humbled to really have her. For her to be mine. To be my future. "I love you Mrs. Trivoli."
She smiles against my lips. “Merry Christmas, Mr. Trivoli.”
I grin at my husband, fighting to keep the laughter bubbling in my throat from escaping with the intensity of his stare. Zeroed in on the glass of ginger ale sitting next to my place setting. Deliberating what message, if any, I'm sending him with my choice of drink during our belated Christmas / New Year's celebration.
That's only a little bit late.
Just like I am.
My heart swirls in my chest again. From the hope growing within me and the joy surrounding us. When Gio proposed, he said he wanted me at his table. Now he has me. We have each other. Along with the people we love.
Tucker, my parents, and Sheena flank both sides, talking and laughing with each other and to Gio. Well, except for Sheena of course. The only one besides Tucker who knows the entire story behind our break up, she holds back. Reserved. Tentative. Cautious. Forcing him to earn her trust again. Which I love about her and hate for him. Yet he remains good-natured about her reluctance as well as her reticence. A man like him always respects loyalty. Especially to me.
Although her outrage must have waned during the past two weeks for her to be here. Or, maybe her willingness to join us for dinner stems from her blossoming feelings for the other man in our lives. With her flushed cheeks and bright smile, I think her concern over Tucker is more than professional obligation from her nursing training. He seems to be just as taken. Only grumbling a little from her diligent attention to his recuperation.
I catch Gio's gaze and nod toward our friends murmuring together, oblivious to the rest of us. Gio watches for a few seconds, a deep frown lining his forehead before he shakes his head. Rolling his eyes at the improbability of my suggestion. I hold back my smile. We'll see, my husband. We'll just see.
"Sweetie, what time is your doctor's appointment on Tuesday? Dad and I want to go with you and see what the orthopedist has to say about your progress."
Grateful my parents' forgiveness came much easier than my friend's. More focused on my health and the attack rather than my elopement. "I can't remember Mom. Let me check."
Twisting out of my seat, I hobble down the hallway toward the den to grab my phone. Feels good to stretch my leg after sitting with my ankle propped up for so long. Stepping from the tile to the carpet, my boot catches on the thick pile, and I palm the wall to catch my balance again. I'm as guilty as Tucker is of forgetting that we're still limited in our mobility. That recovery is slow and tedious, regardless of how much we resist the process.
"What the fuck are you doing? You know I would have got it for you."
Gio's reprimand pounds with his quick steps behind me. His words harsher than his tone. Guilt warms my cheeks. Always so concerned over me, I should have known better than give him another reason to worry. Anxiety stiffening his body as he scans me for distress. "I know. I'm sorry."
"Are you okay?"
Welcoming his protective hand around my waist, I gaze up at him. Excited to give him his Christmas gift. No longer able to hold this secret alone. "Just a little tipsy, I guess."
Skepticism pools in his expression. Suspicion tilting his head from my reason. "But you haven't been drinking."
I grasp his collar, tugging him down to me. Brushing my lips over his. "I know but I'm under the influence of this crazy...sexy...sweet...mobster who–"
"Chryseis?"
His 'do not fuck with me about this' tone hisses against my skin as he jerks me closer. Trapping my bent arms between us. "...who also happens to be the father of my child."
Shock earns me a few seconds to free my hand. I slide the stick out of my skirt pocket and hold up the white and purple wand. Revealing the single word displayed on the tiny screen.
Seconds tick by as he stares at the test result. His breaths coming hard and furious. His huge hand shaking as he strokes over my stomach. His lips twisting with words he pushes out through clenched teeth.
"Is it safe for me to fuck you?"
Wetness pools between my thighs from the need pulsing in his voice. Husky and thick with emotion. I want him just as much, but one
of us has to be rational. At least for a few more hours. "Yes, but probably not the best idea with my father sitting ten feet away."
"Fine." A growl, as possessive as his grip on my back, rumbles in my ear. "But as soon as they're gone, I'm going to show you again and again how much I fucking love you."
Still so bossy. "I think I'm going to ask them to spend the night."
He doesn't seem to find my suggestion as humorous as I do. His fingers glide to my hips, and he clutches me tighter, reminding me of his bulging erection. Grinding the hardness deeper into my belly.
"Then I guess they're going to hear how much their daughter screams when she gets thoroughly fucked."
Although I want to believe he's bluffing, I know he's not. Gio's never afraid of anything, including the consequences of his actions. Willing to risk my parents' disapproval. As long as I'm happy. Which I am. More than I ever thought possible. So I tell him what he likes to hear. "Okay, Giovanni. Just you and me."
Wincing from the reminder of our love making on the stairs, he groans as his eyes sink shut. "Fuck angel. You're killing me. How am I supposed to carry on a conversation with your mother when all I can think about is you in those boots and that necklace?"
Giggling from his exaggerated suffering, I kiss his cheek and take his hand. "Well, at least you don't have to worry about being bored."
A gentle swat on the bottom is the only answer I receive as I lead him back to the dining room.
“Read Daddy.”
There is absolutely no better sound in the entire fucking universe than her tiny voice. Squeaking with excitement and happiness. But not before the fucking sun rises. Not when I just finished fucking her mother only a few hours ago.
Insistent little fingers poke against my back. “Read Daddy.”
Chryseis's soft laughter shakes her silky back sheathed against my chest. “I don’t think she’s going to leave.”
“Pease Daddy.”
My baby girl says please. Even a bastard like me can’t resist. “Okay, I’m up. I’m up.”
Under the Influence: A Second Chance Mafia Romance Page 14