He covers his mouth with his fist. “Nothing. I’m just the one who always says I’d take a bullet for you, and you did it for me.”
“Yeah, so?”
Jesse sits back, feeling pretty good about himself. “Nothing. It just means you love me. Like, really love me. You’re not just saying it because I’m bloodied and bruised and you thought we were going to die.”
Enzo sways his head from side to side, as if the guy’s got a point. The fact that he’s sitting here, driving us away from danger, has me back to the original question at hand.
“Enzo, how did you get involved in this?”
He thumbs back toward Jesse. “Lover boy came to me. Said you were in trouble.”
I swivel my head toward Jesse so fast that my hair hits my chin. “If you spoke to Enzo, that means you spoke to him before today.”
Jesse looks at the rearview, as if asking permission from Enzo. He gives a nod to proceed.
“I didn’t trust Salinger. Not after he was so cavalier with our plan for you. It never sat right, so I went to see your father in the hospital. I told him everything. Who I am, what I did for you last weekend, and every step along the way. Well, I left out a few parts,” he adds, and I widen my eyes, reminding him that my uncle is in the vehicle. Jesse continues, “He told me to go to Enzo. That he’s the only man he trusts. I had them follow you.” He pauses and then turns to my uncle. “What took you so long?”
“You try getting into that fucking compound. The place is like Fort Knox. We had to change plans and get the Hummers. You know this shit isn’t like the movies. You have to stop what you’re doing and come up with a plan. And it doesn’t take a minute to make a plan. It’s like a goddamn drama, listening to those idiots fight over what needed to be done. I was the one in charge but Joey wants to take a helicopter and Vic thinks a night raid is better,” he rants, and I laugh a little at how charming he is. “The good thing is, you’re both alive. Bad news is, she needs a doctor. So do you.” He grimaces in disgust at Jesse’s face.
Jesse lowers his head, so he can see his reflection in the rearview. “Man, that is pretty bad. I don’t suppose you’ll kiss me with a face like this?”
“Hell no,” I say, and he looks at me, surprised.
“No?”
“Last I checked, I took a bullet for you. If you really loved me, you would have done the same.”
Enzo laughs as Jesse shakes his head with a smile.
“You’re gonna be the death of me, Amelia Sorrentino,” he jokes.
I scoot up to him, laying my good side onto his chest. “No way. You’re living forever. I have a lot of plans for us.”
His chest rumbles as his hand comes down onto my arm, holding me gently.
“One day at a time,” he whispers.
As I close my eyes, I wonder what the future will look like for me and Jesse. Today, I get to keep him. Tomorrow might not be the same.
Chapter Twenty-One
Jesse
“You’re lucky you didn’t puncture an organ,” the doctor says as he finishes the exam.
A broken rib, nose, some damage to my cornea, and a shit-ton of bruising, but thankfully, no internal bleeding.
“Good thing the guy with the bat had a shitty swing,” I joke, but he doesn’t find this amusing.
“Here’s a prescription for—”
“No, thanks, Doc.” I push the prescription for painkillers away. “I don’t believe in the stuff, and I don’t need it.” As I grimace in pain, my body contradicts my words.
“You sure about that?” He doesn’t sound convinced.
I wince through my teeth. “Nothing an ice bath and bourbon can’t fix.” I slide my shirt back on my body. “We done here?”
“You’re good. Please give Mr. Evangelista my regards.”
I nod, finding it crazy that I’m having a visit from the “family” doctor. Enzo brought me straight home, and within an hour, Dr. Paul Fisco was at my door.
“When can I see Amelia?” I ask him, hating that we’ve been separated.
“When I left her father’s house, she was falling asleep. It was a flesh wound and will heal nicely. She’s in better shape than you are.”
“Thank God for that. Have a good day, Doc.” I let him out and lock the door behind me, noting that he left the prescription on the table. I tear it up and toss the paper in the trash.
In the seven years I’ve been in law enforcement, I’ve witnessed too many good men fall apart with drugs. It can start as simple as a bottle to dull the pain of a few broken bones. Next thing you know, you’re immune to their potency and looking for something stronger.
I lift the bottle of bourbon from the coffee table, twist the cap, and take a drink. Today was fucked up. I still have to call the bureau and give my statement. I should have done that as soon as I got home, but I need to get my head straight.
When I came on this job, it was to get in good with Evangelista and Sorrentino enough to gather evidence into the bid rigging that was going on in the tristate area. The case kept getting bigger and bigger, and while it feels like it’s over, it’s not.
I still have to turn in Frank Evangelista and Raphael Sorrentino.
She’s going to hate me.
The next drink I take is a double. I slam the bottle on the table and curse myself for getting into this mess.
For the first time in my life, I have something I don’t want to walk away from. But as far as I can see, there’s no way I can stay.
Growing up, I
