Page 125 of Bitter Poetry
People so rarely ask me what I want.
“Yes.”
The door opens. Lillete returns to the bedside with a female doctor who’s somewhere in her mid-forties, at a guess. I’ve never met her before. But I dare say my husband has resources for times like this.
“Do you want me to stay with you?” Lillete asks.
“Would you mind?” My thoughts rush around like they’re in a hurry then forget where they’re going. “That’s if… is Peony all right?”
“She’s with Brigida. Don’t worry about her. And of course I don’t mind.”
“Thank you.” She has a quiet, soothing presence, and just her proximity makes me feel strangely protected.
The doctor introduces herself. She is gentle but efficient, and I appreciate the no-nonsense way she approaches what’s happened to me. It gives me something to grasp onto.
Lillete leaves to fetch me something comfortable to sleep in. The doctor cleans and dresses the bite on my arm and the scratches before covering them with a dressing.
Having them out of sight,hidden,makes me feel better.
Out of sight… if only I could as easily put their making out of mind.
CHRISTIAN
Every light in the house is blazing, and soldiers are everywhere. You would think the Russians had tried to make a hit, not that the don’s brother lost his damn mind.
Jero waits for me at the bottom of the stairs. He would have been the first man sent when Ettore heard something had gone down.
“Where’s Cosmo?” I ask as I reach him. Murderous thoughts are rushing through my mind. Containing them is not fucking easy. I just need to find out where the motherfucker is so I can finish the job. Can’t take the risk that Ettore is confused about what needs to be done because he’s family.
“Been taken to the pool house.”
I start walking. Jero fists my arm. My nostrils flare as I stop and pivot to front up to him. I’m an inch away from punching him in the face.
“Don’t be a twat, mate,” he says, staring me down, reminding me with that look that he’s still the enforcer and I have a lot to learn.
Like I give a fuck? I still want to punch him. “I don’t need you to save me.”
He jerks his head to the side, away from the other men loitering, watching our little face-off.
I yank out of his hold and go where he indicated. He follows on my heels.
The front door opens. A woman is escorted in, and up the stairs—the doctor, I presume. I don’t know her, and I don’t like her being with Carmela while I’m not there.
“Ettore is minutes away,” Jero says, redirecting my focus to him. “You won’t help her if you’re dead. Killing him without the don’s permission will get you dead. You might be toast anyway, depending on what went down. So tell me what happened, and don’t leave anything out.”
I’ve got tunnel vision. I screw my eyes shut, trying to block out the image of her sobbing in the shower. He’s right. I already surmised as much. “I’m already dead. This happened on my watch. At least let me kill the fucker first.”
He cuffs me up the side of the head. His hands are fucking big, and it rattles my brain. “Talk. Now.”
I look down at myself, wet and a little bloody. I don’t know if it’s hers or his. I’m trapped in a nightmare, and I can’t wake up. “Cosmo told everyone he was getting a lift with his brother. He didn’t. I found him on her.Onher. His cum was all over her—she’s covered with fucking marks and bites.”
“And how did you get wet?”
Nope, I’m not going there.
“He’s going to ask, mate.”
I grind my teeth. The front door opens. Footsteps and voices are closing in.
