Page 82 of Blackout-

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Lacey

Feeling as if I’ve entered the twilight zone, I stare at my dad, watching as he slowly loses his mind. I’m still shocked he’s here and not in some cell. After the nurse revealed Danny had been discharged to my father, she took me to the waiting room where the two of them stood clinging to one another. There was no time for me to ask questions, though, because as soon Danny saw me, he ran from our dad’s arms to mine.

I held him as he cried and assured him his mom would be okay without knowing the extent of her injuries. As I continued to comfort him, I looked at my father, still unsure how he was standing in front of me and watched him unravel. For as long as I’ve been on this Earth, people have always referred to him as the Bulldog. Until that very moment, I never knew why.

My father was a goddamn animal.

A vicious creature who would tear through this fucking hospital if his wife didn’t make it through this. No one could control him, but Blackie sure as hell tried to.

They all did—none of them succeeding, though.

He was in a realm of his own and I knew this was no place for Danny. He was already terrified and the last thing he needed was to see our father lose his grip on reality. Before I could announce I was taking him home, Wolf’s woman, Maria, rode to the rescue and offered to take Danny. That’s when I noticed Anthony Bianci was there too and he and Blackie seemed to be deep in conversation. Anthony pulled himself away from my husband and told Maria to take Danny to his house so he could hang out with his son.

Giving Danny the opportunity to hang out with someone his own age and possibly take his mind off the fact his mother was in surgery, fighting to survive, seemed like the best solution. It also kept me here at the hospital.

I kiss him goodbye and promise to pick him up in a little while. He gives my father a hug, one I’m not even sure he feels and I watch Maria escort Danny out of the hospital.

Turning back around to face the waiting room full of somber faces, I find my husband staring at me. He closes the distance between us and brings me against his chest. I close my eyes and breathe in his scent, feeling comforted for the first time since I got the phone call that uprooted all of our lives.

“You okay?” he asks, kissing the top of my head.

“I’m worried about him, Blackie,” I murmur, lifting my chin to meet his gaze. “I’ve never seen him like this before.”

I watch as he turns his head and eyes my father. Being a man who likes to shelter his family from his illness as much as possible, my dad has turned to Blackie more than anyone in this room. This is nothing new for my husband and yet, his Adam’s apple bobs as he continues to stare at my dad.

“He’s going to be fine,” he finally says, slicing his eyes back to mine.

“How can you say that? If something happens—”

“Let’s not think of that,” he interrupts, dragging in a deep breath. “Getting ahead of ourselves won’t help matters.”

“Okay,” I say, not really buying into the whole positivity bullshit. “What about the deal?” I question, glancing at my watch. “He was due to surrender hours ago. There’s probably an APB out on him.”

“Lace, stop it,” he orders, dropping his hands away from me. Frustration works over his features as he takes a step back and rakes his fingers through his hair. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” he grinds out. Sighing, he cups the back of his neck and stares at me, his eyes softening a fraction. “I’m sorry, things are just a little crazy right now.” He pauses, squinting. “Wait a minute…how did you know—”

“Nico.”

He raises an eyebrow and there is no mistaking the tick in his jaw.

“He couldn’t get in touch with my dad and didn’t know what to do,” I explain, crossing my arms against my chest as he glares at Nico. “He did the right thing. Technically, I’m their next of kin.” I watch as he silently jerks his head before I continue. “You seemed to be in a heavy conversation with Bianci.”

That gets his attention, and he peels his eyes away from Nico. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he shrugs his shoulders.

“Nothing to worry about,” he replies, leaning in to press a kiss to my forehead. “Why don’t you sit down? We’re going to be here a while.”

Nothing to worry about.

There is something about that statement that doesn’t bode well with me.

It’s almost as if my subconscious knows those are my husband’s last words.

The ones that send the ball into motion before he tears my heart to pieces.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Blackie

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