Page 42 of Hostile Love
While he nuzzles his face into the side of my neck, André’s name scrapes from Sinéad’s throat in a strangled sob.
“No, no, no, no…Dré…say something…Dré…”
Giovanni’s hand squeezes mine, and he takes a controlled step back, letting our fingers separate. His nostrils flare as he inhales and rotates towards the bed.
“Don’t leave me, Dré…speak to me…” she cries, panting hard. “Fuck! Help him…Gio… please…get an air ambulance…take him to the hospital. FUCKING HELP HIM!”
The instant Giovanni stalks away from me, all I feel is coldness––and dread.
Petrified tears spill down my face and I mindlessly follow my bare feet, clambering over the blood-soaked comforter to reach André.
Sinéad’s bloodied hands are pressed to the hemorrhaging bullet hole in his chest.
“Let me help,” I say on a shaky breath.
Her face dives into the crook of André’s tattooed neck and then her lips feather kisses over his coarse haired jaw.
“I love you, Dré. Please…don’t leave me. I can’t do this without you…I can’t…”
I carefully position the heel of my hand on his wound and bare down, using my weight to seal it.
Letterman’s husky voice comes from behind me.
“I need an air ambulance…NOW! Not in twenty fucking minutes. It’s an emergency.”
“We’re not waiting. He doesn’t have time. My pilot is ready to go. Help me carry him, Letterman.” The tone of Giovanni’s command gives me chills.
“Oh…God…” Sinéad whimpers.
I lift my head and find her hunched over, holding a hand to her belly.
“Oh my God, no…the babies…Indy, the babies are coming early.”
12
MATHEUS
“Impressive,” the woman says quietly.
She and I didn’t speak much for the duration of the flight. I’d hired her for a service and talking wasn’t part of the deal.
I shrug a brand-new shirt onto my throbbing back and glance over at her. She’s stretching like a cat by the doorway where a few guys from my security team have gathered.
“You lasted for hours,” she continues. “Most guys would have needed more breaks.”
Leaving the top button undone, I tuck the shirt tails into dress pants and offer her a tight smile.
“Guess I’m not like most guys.”
“What happens now?” she asks. “I hadn't planned on a trip to Sicily. In fact, I’ve never been this far from home in my life. What––”
“You’ll have the payment in your bank account by the time the jet takes off,” I interrupt, fixing my collar. “My pilot will fly you back to Colombia when he’s ready. Thanks for joining me last minute.”
“Yeah, uh…” she mumbles. “Sure thing.”
I check myself in the mirror and sigh heavily. When Mama sees the cuts on my face, she’s going to go off.
A designer suit can only do so much. And today, fuck, I’d need a miracle to appear somewhat presentable.
