“Why? Is it infected?” I look down at my arm like I’d know the real difference. Frankly, it just looks like a large cut.
“No, but it could be. Trust me; you don’t want one to seep in.”
“Thanks.” He’s got a point. I don’t want anything, or anyone, in the way when I go to claim Giada.
“Take care, Mr. Marchetti. The nurse will be in here with your discharge papers and prescriptions.”
“Thanks again.” We shake hands and he leaves the room. I hop off the more comfortable version of a prison mattress and adjust my clothes. Both my shirt and jacket are ruined, so I slip my undershirt back on and toss my dress shirt over my shoulder, giving no fucks if anyone has a problem with it.
Chapter Twelve
Santino
After being discharged, I meet Martin out in the lobby. He’s brought me a new change of clothes. “Thanks,” I say as we both walk into the bathroom, so I slip on a clean shirt. When I switch them, Martin steals a look at bandage, examining it.
“Damn, Santino, you’re lucky. How’s Dimitri?”
Shaking my head, I sigh. “I don’t know. Fuck, I have to call his family. Do you have their information or anything?”
“I don’t.”
“Damn.” I slip on the dress shirt and straighten up before we head back to the lobby and take a seat. As they released me, they told me that I might feel weak and I should rest. I didn’t believe them until right now.
“I need you to go back to the house and secure it.”
He nods and stands. “I will.”
“Thank you, my friend.” I stand and give him a one-armed hug.
“Take it easy. Let me know if you need anything.”
For the next three hours, I wait outside the ER for news on Dimitri. Searching through the briefcase he gave me, I see his cousin’s number on a paper, so I leave a message for him to call me in the morning. It’s only two in the morning there.
I’d just put everything back inside the briefcase when the surgical nurse finally comes out to tell me that he’s made it through surgery, but the battle is an uphill one. I call in my team who helped me with Giada and have them bring in their own security for him. One by one, everyone but me leaves. My life feels like it did before, completely out of control.
I’ve already been questioned by cops and a Detective Morel who’s been assigned to Dimitri’s case, giving the complete rundown of what happened over the past twenty-four hours. It’s already six at night when I see all of them return with the detective who had been at my house this morning.
As soon as he’s a foot away, I punch him dead in the face. I’m surrounded by cops who grab my arms behind my back. “You work for my father. You tried to have me killed, you piece of shit, and I have the fucking proof.”
“I didn’t do shit, but officers, release him. Let him show me the supposed proof,” he orders, rubbing his jaw. The cops release me, and I pull up footage from my cameras on my phone. It’s been already cued up for this purpose. I play it for them, and they see the cop drop the cyanide tablets into the decanter. “Who the hell is that?” he asks one of the officers who also had been in the house.
I watch their reactions. Either they are incredible liars, or they really have no idea who this guy is. “I don’t know, sir. He’s not one of our regulars. When he pulled up, he told me he came for backup per the judge.”
“What?” both detectives say simultaneously.
“Yeah, and that guy was his partner.” He pointed to the one who dropped the cyanide tablets in my decanter. “His car number was 9176. I only remember because it’s the opposite of mine, 6719. And I think his name was Vincent.” He points to the guy distracting the other guy.
“Do you swear you don’t know them?” Detective Morel asks Romo.
“You can check everywhere. I’m on the up and up. I can’t stand the Marchetti family, especially Rafael Sr.,” Detective Romo says.
“We have something in common,” I remark. “If you cross me, I’ll suddenly become the killer they accused me of being. I will do whatever I can to come out of this war alive.”
“Understood.” He chuckles to himself as if he’s thinking of something funny. “Now I know why I was put on this one.”
“Why?”
“I was married to one of his mistresses five years ago. I hate the prick. He started screwing her to get at me on the force. He wanted me to lose it and get myself fired or dead.”
“I’m sorry about her. He’s a piece of shit.”
“Frankly, I’m hoping his wife got away. From what I learned, she came from the Avanti family and there’s rumors that they dabble in the underage human trafficking business. The Feds are handling the matter and don’t want us interfering in their sting, so it’s only rumors on my end.”
“That’s my take on it.” I’m not going to tell him shit. I still don’t trust him at all. “Enough about that. What about my place? The whole place needs a scrub down after your men spent thirty minutes tearing through it.”
“Sorry. Take it up with the department with a bill. You obviously aren’t going to want us in your home again.”
“Damn right, I don’t.” I don’t want a single cop anywhere near my property if I can help it.
“Excuse me. Can I have a word with you, Mr. Marchetti?” Morel interrupts. He grabs me by the bicep and tugs me gently. I follow him to the side away from the rest of the officers. “I’m sorry, but I have some questions about your friend.”
“Go ahead and ask.”
“Do you have an idea who did this?” Okay. Why couldn’t he ask me that in front of
