I continued mopping, making my way around the room until I was on the window side. The meal trolley that each bed had was in my way and I carefully moved it aside, continuing to push my mop around the floor. I was about to bend down and move a paper bag aside, one I knew held a prisoner’s uniform until they changed back out of the hospital pyjamas, they were all given. It was leaning against the bedside table.
“Did you know?” a voice suddenly said, speaking from almost directly beside my ear. I jumped a little and stepped back. I kicked the bucket in the process, water spilling over the rim.
I stared at the mop of black hair that was lying on that pillow, making out a single bloodshot eye staring out at me. There was a small patch of forehead, but the colour looked off. The figure suddenly pulled the sheet back a little, Nick Traiforous staring back at me with one good eye, the other completely shut under a dark and swollen bruise.
“Huh?” I said, taken by complete surprise. I wasn’t sure whether he was going to attack me, the last time I’d seen him, Katarina’s lifeless body in his arms. “Nick?” I asked, leaning forward a little.
“Did you know? A simple question.” He sounded terrible, but there was nothing that could eclipse the hurt in the man’s voice. While his body lay bruised and battered on the bed, it was his soul that remained racked with grief. It was that voice I heard, the one speaking from the inside.
I knew the question, having been asked it by the late Francisco De Bane. I gripped the mop tight and stepped forward slightly. The grief the man felt tore into my soul, remembering his screams as she lay dying in his arms. It was the same grief that had torn through me when Aiden died.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. His one good eye locked onto mine and I knew he was looking for a lie. But there was no deceit in me for the man lying before me. I had a part to play in his daughter’s death and the only thing I could do now was to be honest with him, regardless of how ‘the family’ felt about it.
“Did Frank?” It was funny how his questions mirrored San’s. But with Nick, there was another reason why he was asking. He was looking for revenge as much as I was.
“Yes. He knew. It was him and Danny that worked it out. They didn’t tell me. I was told it was-“ I paused. He simply nodded, understanding what I was about to say.
“Me. Yes. They told you that they were going to kill me. You were the guy tasked with creating a scene that day. To distract everyone.” He rubbed at his temple and strained to sit up. I saw him grimace as he strained to lean on one arm, trying to push himself up. I stepped forward and grabbed his arm, pulling him up as best I could. “They broke 2 of my ribs. Can’t say it’s pleasant.” He rubbed the side of his chest, breathed in and grimaced again.
“Who?” I asked.
“You mean you don’t know?” he asked, looking genuinely surprised.
“No, I don’t.”
“Your Boss, of course. He’s still trying to get me. Sent half a dozen goons after me yesterday. Although my boys got a bit cut up, we managed to drop 2 of yours permanently.” I was shocked, realizing for the first time just how much I really was out of the loop.
“Frank ordered a hit on you?” I asked, taken back by the revelation.
“He didn’t tell you? Seems to me there isn’t a lot of things you know, kid.” He winced again as he tried to adjust his sitting position. I suddenly heard the familiar clip-clopping of shoe heels marching down the hallway and resumed mopping.
“All good in here?” Aiden said as he stuck his head in through the open doorway. I simply waved, Nick not bothering to acknowledge the question. Aiden nodded once, looked around, then returned to the station. When I was sure he was gone, I returned to the side of Nick’s bed.
“I know it’s a little late coming, and I totally get if you don’t care for it, but I want to apologize for my part.” I held out my hand, positive that Frank was going to stick his head in the door and catch me out. Nick looked at my hand, considered, then shook it, his grip firm, despite his obvious injuries.
“He has to die, Dylan. That man needs to die, sooner rather than later. And there’s one person that needs to do it.” Me standing there talking to Nick was already crossing a line. If anybody saw me talking with him, it would be enough to get me a fair whooping from the boys. But now that he was mentioning killing Frank, it was a betrayal of biblical proportions. This was a betrayal there was no coming back from.
“Who’s going to be dumb enough to try and kill him?” I asked, already knowing what he was going to say.
“Someone who can get close enough to him without raising suspicion. Someone that has a reason to want him dead. And someone with the stomach.” He looked at me, his eyes studying mine for comprehension. I understood perfectly well, the familiar tightness in my stomach acknowledging the fact.
“You think I’m going to kill him for you?” I said. Nick never hesitated with
