by Wild, Cassie
Briar hadn’t looked happy about any of it, but I could tell by the look in her eyes that she wasn’t surprised I wanted to get the hell out of the hospital either.
The nurse was explaining to me how to take care of the wound, and I nodded, more so she would just hurry up and finish than because I was paying attention.
Briar was paying enough attention for both of us, I figured.
I was too edgy, too anxious to get out of there to listen to the nurse as she droned on.
Although I’d managed to get some sleep the night before, it had been restless. I was still sluggish, although whether it was from lack of sleep or the whole getting shot bullshit, I had no idea.
“Brooks.”
I jerked my head up and looked at Briar. She had an exasperated look on her face. “Pay attention if you want to get out of here,” she warned me. “Otherwise, I’ll call Sean and tell him you changed your mind.”
She’d do it too.
That wouldn’t keep me in that damned place, but since I didn’t relish the idea of getting on my sister’s bad side, I once more focused on the nurse and made myself listen as she continued on with all the instructions.
“You’ve got this stuff written down, right?” I asked warily as she advised me to follow up with my doctor in a week, sooner if I was having trouble.
“It’s all in here,” she assured me, pointing to a file on her computer on wheels. “You’ll receive a copy as soon as you sign the paperwork.” She hesitated a moment before lifting an eyebrow. “Are you sure you won’t stay one more day?”
“No.” The tone of my voice made it clear I wasn’t changing my mind, so she continued on.
It took another five minutes before she finished, and as Briar accepted my copy of the notes, I checked the time.
We’d already called Sean.
That had been nearly an hour ago.
He should be here at any minute.
I wished he’d hurry the hell up.
I wanted to see Daria.
Maybe she’d come with him. I hoped she would.
* * *
It wasn’t even twenty minutes before I got my hopes dashed.
Sean appeared in the doorway and smiled when he saw me, stopping to hug Briar. “Are you working here or just visiting?” he teased as he released her from his arms.
“Somebody had to be here to make sure he was paying attention to the nurse,” Briar said, her tone dry. She rose and bent over to kiss my cheek. “I do need to go, though. I need to report in.”
I squeezed her hand, looking her directly in the eye. “Thank you.”
She cocked a brow. “Thank me by never scaring me like this again, okay?”
“I’ll do my best.”
She left me alone with Sean, and I glanced behind him, hoping once more that I might see Daria. “Is it just you?” I asked softly.
“Were you expecting a going-away party?” Sean stepped aside as a volunteer came into the room, pushing a wheelchair.
“No.” I shook my head and glared at the offending vehicle. “I’m not using that.”
“Sir, it’s hospital policy.”
If Briar had been in the room, I might have given in. But she wasn’t, so…
“No,” I said again, my voice strong and determined.
She huffed under her breath. “Let me get the nurse,” she said, shaking her head.
Once she was gone, I stood up. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
“Far be it from you to take it easy the day after you almost get killed,” Sean said, shaking his head.
But he took over gathering up my things and shoved it all into a duffle he’d brought with him, tossing the bag over his shoulder and moving to stand at my side, a little closer than was necessary.
“Problem?” I asked him as we started down the hallway.
“Just want to make sure you don’t go passing out on me,” he muttered. “Dad and Briar would have my ass.”
“I’m not going to pass out,” I growled back. And I wasn’t going to. I hoped. Damn, I was even weaker than I thought.
It was a lot more tiring to walk to the elevator than I would have expected, and once we were inside, I sagged back against the wall, breathing a little heavy.
“You sure you don’t want that wheelchair?” Sean asked, watching me with concerned eyes.
In response, I flipped him off.
That made him smile.
“I guess you’re okay then,” he said.
Once we were on the ground floor, he led me over to a seating area by the front doors. “I’ve got to bring the car around. You stay.”
“I can walk with you,” I told him.
“I had to park almost half a mile away,” he said sourly. “That’s why it took me so long to get up to your room. You really think you’re up to hiking a half mile right now, Brooks?”
“On second thought…” I eased myself down into the chair, although staying in that damned hospital even a second longer made me want to jump out of my skin. I needed to get out of there, get out of there and see Daria. “Hurry it up, though, okay?”
Sean snapped a smart salute and turned on his heel.
I closed my eyes and settled in to wait.
* * *
“You look like shit, man,” Sean said as he pulled up in front of the towering complex where he shared an apartment with Daria and Isabel.
I’d dozed off as soon as I strapped on my seatbelt, an exercise I didn’t look forward to anytime soon. Sean had to ease it over my bandaged shoulder. Now, though, I felt more alert than I had since this whole ordeal began. I shot Sean a dark look.
“I think getting shot will do that to you,” I said dryly. “I don’t recommend it. Especially not for a pretty boy like you. Your hair would be so messed up from surgery, and after wallowing in a bed most of the day, you might never recover from the trauma.”
He flipped me off. Standard communication between brothers.
He turned off the ignition, and I gritted my teeth as I went through the painful process of twisting around so I could undo the seatbelt with my left hand. I’d been warned that I’d have some limited mobility to my affected arm, and the doctor had told me he’d give me the name of a physical therapist. I wanted to think I wouldn’t need it, but I wasn’t about to risk losing any use of my arm, either.
Sean was opening the door for me by the time I was done, and I hid my relief behind a sardonic smile as I swiveled in the seat, preparing to get out. “Shit, kid. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re worried about me.”
Sean’s eyes were darker than normal, but at my words, he curled his lip in a sneer. “Worried I’ll have to handle all my work and yours if you end up wussing out because you got an ouchie.”
“I love you too, Sean.” I got out of the car, gripping the side of it with my right hand to steady myself. Pain flared, but I clenched my jaw against it. Once I was standing upright, the pain faded. Blowing out a breath, I looked at my brother. “Man, I will never again take having full use of my body for granted. I’m not even using that arm, and just about every movement hurts.”
“Come on,” he said, placing himself at my right side and keeping his steps slow and measured, at a match for mine. “You get upstairs, lay down, and you’ll feel better in a little bit.”
“The cops still have to take my statement,” I said, focusing on that instead of the throbbing pain in my upper chest. It emanated out from the entry wound and spread across my neck and shoulder, limiting movement more than I liked.
“I talked to a contact there. They’ll send somebody out. I might have played up how much you were hurting, and since they didn’t get to the hospital on time, they’d have to come see you here. Either that or they can wait until you’re recovered.”
I gave him a sidelong look. “You’re not pissing off the New York cops, are you, Sean?”
“Nope.” He stepped aside so I could enter first when a uniformed employee opened the door for us. Once he was back at
my side, he said, “I was as polite as could be and just told them that while I was sure you’d want to come down as soon as possible, you’d been told to take it easy for a few days. Then I suggested that in the name of expediency, they could always come to my apartment.” He gave me a hard look. “And you are staying here for a few days. You need the time to recover. Briar warned me that if you pushed it too hard, you could reinjure yourself.”
I wasn’t about to argue. Even though I had more energy now, I could feel the weight of exhaustion under the surface, just waiting to jump out at me if I moved too fast or too much.
I found myself moving faster, though, despite the stiffness in my body as we walked through the elevator doors. “Slow down,” Sean griped.
I ignored him and reached out to punch the up button. I wanted to see Daria.
Sean gave me an odd look that I was too distracted to question as we got into the elevator. I was more interested in finding Daria, holding her, reassuring myself that she was okay.
“Listen, Brooks…” Sean said as the elevator doors slid open.
I was already out and moving toward his front door.
“I need to tell you something.” Sean caught up with me, reaching out to touch my shoulder—the one that still hurt like a motherfucker.
Automatically, I swayed out of his reach. He grimaced. “Shit, man. Wasn’t thinking. I need to talk to you for a minute.”
The door to the apartment swung open, and I whipped my head around, certain it was Daria. But Isabel stood there, staring at me. She rocked back on her heels as she looked me over, her fingers in the microscopic pockets of her denim shorts. She gave me an appraising look, and I thought I saw nerves flicker in her eyes.
“Hi,” she said softly. “How are you?”
“As good as can be expected,” I told her, trying to see past her and into the apartment.
She fell back as I started forward, and I looked around, searching for the woman I couldn’t get out of my mind.
“Brooks—”
“Where’s Daria?” I asked, turning to look back at Sean.
He had a pained expression on his face. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Isabel and Daria had an argument last night. Daria left.”
I blinked.
“I’ve been trying to call her,” Isabel said, misery masking her expression. “But she’s not answering.”
Slowly, I looked back at her, shaking my head as I tried to make sense of what I’d just been told. “What do you mean she left? Did she go to school already?” It was mid-morning and well past time for classes to start. But still, I would have thought she’d be here waiting for me.
Isabel looked miserable. “I don’t know if she’s at school or not. She packed up a bag last night after we had a fight, and she…” Isabel shrugged. “She left.”
“She packed up a bag,” I said, echoing Isabel’s words. My head started to spin. “I don’t get it. What could you two have fought about that was bad enough that she thought she had to leave?”
Sean rested a hand on Isabel’s shoulder. He opened his mouth, but Isabel shook her head. “It’s partly my fault,” she said in a halting voice. “Daria thinks she’s the reason you got shot. She thinks one of my brothers is still after her. I told her they weren’t, but she won’t listen to me.” She sniffed and dashed at a tear that had slipped free. “My brothers wouldn’t try to have somebody shot over this. They wouldn’t.”
Her face tightened as she looked at me, clearly seeing something she didn’t like. She turned to Sean, but he wouldn’t look at her.
A short, strangled scream escaped her, and she spun away, stalking farther into the apartment. “What in the fuck has happened to my life?” she half-shouted. “It’s like up is down and down is up. Damn it. Duardo taught me how to ride a bike!”
She spun back to glare at me. “Your fucking family is just as twisted as mine. Do you really think that Declan might have somebody shot over a stupid debt?”
“Yes,” I said without blinking an eyelash.
Her mouth dropped open. Then, her face crumpled. She practically melted onto the couch, as though all the strength had abruptly drained out of her body.
“Do you think my brothers are behind this?” she asked in a quiet voice.
“I think that Duardo has accepted the money I gave to satisfy the debt,’ I said carefully. “I don’t see him deciding to come after me, or Daria, for that matter. After I paid him off, he told me he now considered the matter closed.”
“And Marcos?” she asked softly.
I looked away. “I’ve only had limited dealings with Marcos, Isabel.”
“I didn’t ask how many dealings you’d had with him,” she said, her voice sharp, her glare accusing. “Since, apparently, people outside my family know more about my father and brothers than I do, I want to know what you think. Could Marcos have been behind this?”
I glanced at Sean, but he was too busy contemplating the floor.
I suspected I knew why. Both of us knew damn well that Marcos was capable of almost anything.
“If he got it in his head that I should pay for intervening, then…yeah. He is capable of ordering something like this, or even doing it himself.”
She flinched, as though my words were physical blows.
“Iz.” Sean knelt down in front of her, but she pulled back.
“I think I want to be alone,” she said in a hollow voice. She rose and carefully walked out of the room, giving both Sean and me a wide berth.
I braced myself for the anger I was certain Sean felt., but to my surprise, he dropped down on the couch, sitting in almost the same spot Isabel had just vacated. “I guess I should have expected her not to be happy about all of this shit,” he said in a monotone.
“She loves you,” I told him. “She’ll deal.”
He gave me a dead look.
“I need to find Daria,” I said, shifting the conversation.
I expected him to argue, but he just nodded. “I’ll have a car sent out. It won’t take long.”
“I can do fine walking,” I said, not wanting to wait.
“Just walking from the hospital to my car parked out front had you sweating, man.” He shook his head. “You shouldn’t go at all. You’re supposed to rest. But I know I can’t stop you. Just take the fucking car so I don’t have to worry, okay? I’ve got enough on my mind right now.”
Five
Daria
Apparently, I looked as bad as I felt because Gloria winced when she saw me. “Rough night?” she asked sympathetically as I stood in her small bathroom and stared at my haggard reflection.
I’d spent most of the night muffling my tears into my borrowed pillow, and it showed on my face. “I’m not feeling all that well,” I said. My raspy voice added to the illusion.
She grimaced. “Please tell me you’re not contagious, Daria.”
“No.” I shook my head. “It’s probably allergies.”
It was the wrong time of year, but it wasn’t like I could tell her the real reason I was crying.
“Good.” Gloria rolled her eyes expressively. “You know how Madame is about germs, but I can’t miss any more class, not after taking time off to go to my uncle’s funeral.”
I made a face. “You’d think she’d cut people slack for things like weddings and funerals. Especially the funerals. It’s not like people schedule that kind of thing in advance.”
“I dunno. If somebody wants to help me schedule Madame’s, I’d be all for it.” She winked at me playfully. “Your life would be easier too. She’s got a real hate-on for you lately.”
“I know.” Rubbing the back of my neck, I looked back at my reflection.
“I’ll tell her you’re sick. You had a stomach thing just the other day, and you’ve been looking tired ever since you came back. I’ll tell her you were sick all night.”
“Thanks,” I said with a wan smile. I doubted her vouching for me would help much when it came to Burov eying my attendance,
but I didn’t have the heart to go to school today. I still didn’t know what I should say to Isabel when I saw her. Should I apologize? Should I wait to see how she adjusted to what I’d told her?
I just didn’t know.
I worried. I worried just being around her or Sean or Brooks. Even though I didn’t know if Duardo or Marcos were behind the attack on Brooks, I couldn’t say it wasn’t possible either. It was most definitely possible.
“Listen,” Gloria said, moving down the hall. I followed her as she continued to speak. “I’m going to leave my spare key here so you can lock up when you leave.” She hesitated, studying me. “You’re going back to Isabel’s, right?”
“Of course. I just…” I averted my face. “I needed some space after what happened yesterday.”
“Oh, honey…” Gloria rushed up to me and hugged me, quick and tight. “You must have been so scared. But you need your friends around you right now. That’s what’s best for you.”
She grabbed her bag. On the way out the door, she dropped a set of keys on the table near the entry. “My spare set. You can give them back to me at class tomorrow, okay?”
I nodded, and as she closed the door, I leaned back against the wall and closed my eyes.
* * *
What I wanted, more than anything, was to lay back down and try to get some sleep.
But every time I’d closed my eyes during the night, the shooting would play itself out in my mind all again.
Brooks…
Okay, maybe sleep wasn’t the one thing I wanted more than anything. I wanted to see Brooks. I wanted to know he was okay. Was he out of the hospital?
The urge to call him and see how he was doing was almost overwhelming. It was so strong, I ended up turning my phone off so I’d have time to think my decision through in case I was tempted to give in to the urge.
I noticed that I’d had a number of calls, but I didn’t bother listening to any of the voicemails.