It takes me almost fifteen minutes just to get out of the car once I’m home. Staring at the inside of the garage, jumping at anything I hear thinking Donatello has come to find me out there. I’m not scared of Donatello, but I am scared to have this conversation. Going inside, I kick my sandals off, pinching my lip with my fingers as I gather up the courage to walk to the bedroom. Standing in the hall just in front of the door, I can’t hear Donatello inside the room, but I know he’s in there. The smell of his body wash coming from the open master bathroom door.
Stepping into the room, I watch as Donatello pulls a tee over his head, the bruising along his cheek has grown, blotching up to his hairline, a dark shadow under his eye. He brushes his hands through his hair, still not realizing I’m in the room and I can see the bruises also covering his knuckles and fingers. My heart hurts at the sight, reminding me that I never even checked on him after the fight. I’d been too angry and caught up in my emotions to think of anything past Jessie almost dying, to wonder if he needed me. Then again, he’s the one who almost killed Jessie.
“Were you really going to kill Jessie?” I know the answer, but I want to hear him say it.
His head turns at my voice, dark eyes sweeping over me like he’s surprised I’m there. “I thought you’d go with Jessie.” The way he says it tells me how much he loved the thought as well.
“Were you?”
He stares at me a moment, sitting on the end of the bed, but not looking at me. “Yes.” His eyes flick up to mine, ebony in the light. “I was going to kill Jessie Mariani.” My lip starts to tremble and he stands, coming to stand in front of me, thumb brushing along the bottom of my quivering lip. “And I still might.”
“Why?”
He wipes a tear from my cheek, palming my face. Leaning to press a soft kiss on my lips. His dark eyes are almost as sad as I feel. “You.”
Every breath hurts. It’s all I can think about as I stare at the client sitting across from me. Interrupting him, I motion for the waiter, “Does anyone here have ibuprofen or something?”
Her eyes coast over my busted lip and bruised jaw before meeting mine again. “I might have some in my purse, I can go check for you?”
I attempt to smile at her, but I can feel it turn into a grimace. “That’d be greatly appreciated.” Nodding, she turns from us, and I look back at the suit in front of me. “Sorry it’s been one hell of a day, but if I’m understanding correctly and mind you I’m being vague, you need me to find someone who’s doing something they shouldn’t, and kill them?”
His eyes go wide, looking around the diner like he’s worried I’m talking too loudly. It wouldn’t matter even if I were, the Famiglia owns this diner and everyone in it. It’s the reason we’re even here for this conversation. I attempt another smile at the waitress as she drops off two little pills, mouthing my thank you before downing them with the glass of water in front of me.
“Am I right or not?”
He nods, the bald spot on his head catching the light from above making it shine. “Yes. Do you need me to send you any extra information? Identification?”
I stand from the booth, using the table to help support my weight and refraining from grabbing my ribs in front of everyone. “Nope. I have an excellent memory Mr. Blanche, no need to repeat anything unnecessary and drag things along any longer than you already have.”
I’m already halfway down the aisle toward the door when he yells back. “Oh, okay… and payment?”
Not looking over my shoulder, I push the door open, “We’ll come to collect.”
Climbing into my SUV I sit back in the seat, frowning through the pain getting in the vehicle made. Four dislocated ribs and several fractures and cracks. That’s what Donatello was able to do in approximately ten minutes. Fuck do I hate him.
I remembered to call Mamma after getting my ribs popped back in place, so I don’t have to worry about going and getting Duke, or her seeing me. Which is good because I’m so fucking ready to go home.
My phone rings and I look over seeing it’s Delaney. I grab it, and a slight wheeze leaves my chest at the reach.
“Laney Girl.”
“Hey, how are you feeling? Did you go get checked?”
Putting the phone on speaker, I set it in the console. “I did and I’m fine. I said I was fine when you left.”
She doesn’t say anything for a minute and the tension gives me goosebumps. “Are you going home? Can I come over?”
“Yea, you remember the address?”
“I do. I’ll see you there.”
She hangs up and I frown at the phone, letting it turn itself off. I wonder if she’s gone to see Donatello yet, or if she’s just been with Beverly. She sounded stressed on the phone but based on how the beginning half of the day went, that’s not surprising.
She’s outside when I pull up to my building, standing outside the security doors with her arms wrapped around herself. She smiles when she sees me, but it's not genuine. Her big browns already pooling as she watches the way I cradle my side, wincing when I move too quickly. I’m not hiding my pain from her because it hurts to do it, and if anyone can see me weak, it’s her.
“How long
