Page 21 of Tesoro: Mayhem Makers

It’s slight, but I see a glimmer of surprise in Dante’s eyes.

“I also know you are deep in organized crime yourself.” There was no point in denying what I know. Given the coffee he had delivered to me, and how he managed to put the watch in my secured locker, he had to have been watching me.

“When Chuy learned Angelo survived the surgery, he ran his mouth to the wrong people about his plans to send one of his men to finish the job.”

It didn’t escape me his lack of denial of what I’d said regarding his involvement in organized crime.

“I know you saw the news report yesterday. Something you may not know, the cartel has no boundaries, except one.” Dante added flatly, pocketing the rosary.

“Money,” I let out a humorless laugh. “You destroyed their warehouses.” Shaking my head, I lean back in the chair in disbelief. Having heard horror stories of the crimes committed by the cartel, I was floored anyone would dare go against them.

“We can’t go back to Boston due to the weather. Angelo isn’t stable enough to travel,” Dante ticks the points on his fingers.“Chuy would have taken out anyone who got in his way of getting to my brother.”

“So you brought him here.” Given the circumstances, I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same in his position.

“Wait.” Leaning forward, my hands dangling between my knees. “The authorities are looking for Angelo.”

“No,” Dante shook his head. “The authorities are looking for Chuy.” Dante corrects me, his cheshire smile returning.

Confusion grips me momentarily as I try to decipher what he isn’t saying. Suddenly, as if the missing piece of a puzzle appeared, “You made it look like Chuy is responsible.”

“I may have alluded to the fact there was an altercation in the ER, and the fact one of his men is dating a nurse and another is related to one of the security guards.”

“What about me, did you make them think Chuy was responsible for my disappearance?”

Dante shifts his gaze to Angelo, taking several slow steps until he reaches the head of the bed. I watch as he reaches down, brushing his fingers against the side of his hand.

“Angelo would slit my balls in half if I put you in harm's way. Especially after you defended him to that fuck, Mallace.” Taking a step back, Dante moves his gaze back to mine.

“I need you to get him well enough to leave.”

“You need a doctor,” I drift my attention to the infected wound on Angelo’s chest. “A hospital with proper equipment,” I add, thinking of all the medication it will take to clear up the infection.

“Listen,” Dante rounds the end of the bed, sitting on the edge of the bed in front of me. “You have no reason to want to help us. I give you my word, you are free to leave any time you want.”

“Free to go?” I echo back, incredulously.

“Yes,” Dante leans forward, placing his tattooed hand on my knee. “However, if you chose to help, I will pay you five timeswhat that watch is worth, get you anything you need to treat him, and when this is over, I will make sure you are returned in the same shape you arrived in.”

Dante makes a convincing argument, still I wasn’t a doctor, and it would be impossible to get the kind of equipment I need to do any good without the signature of a physician. While I could sign for almost any drug I needed, until I sat for boards, I had to have a co-signature by a licensed physician.

Scanning his handsome face, combined with the warmth of his hand on my knee had me panting like a bitch in heat. No good could come of this, I need a clear head, one not clouded by sexual tension.

Jumping to my feet, “I need a minute.” I mumble, spearing my fingertips into my hair. I can feel a headache coming as I rush past Frankie and the other men lining the hallway. Unsure of where I am, I put one foot in front of the other until I find what looks to be a kitchen. Standing in the center, I spin around taking in the room and the distinct smell of brewed coffee.

Despite what Dante said, I know in my soul this would end badly. There was no way I could get the supplies I need, and they would certainly kill me if he succumbs to sepsis.

“Here, looks like you could use this.”

Moving my attention to my right, I find Frankie with a cup of what I hope is the coffee I smell in his outstretched hand.

“Thank you.” My voice trembles as I take the steaming cup.

“For what it’s worth, you may not have MD behind your name, but from what I’ve seen you don't need it.”

Raising the cup to my lips, I close my eyes as I sip the hot liquid. How many patients have I pondered about their illness as I drank this golden nectar? Turning toward the door, I consider testing Dante’s words and try to leave.

“There is a fireplace in the front room. How about you take your coffee and go think about Dante’s offer for as long as ittakes to finish that coffee.” Frankie stands not three feet away, hands hooked on his slender hips motioning toward the roaring fire behind him.

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