Her legs rustle, and the attitude slips into a look I know well. She drops her arms, then jerks back. “No, you don’t! You aren’t shifting this conversation.”
Damn, maybe that last part was a bit too strong. “Don’t know what you mean. You’re the one that mentioned my mastery of talents.”
“Do not twist my words, and stop trying to distract me.”
I move to her, perching on the edge of the bed, and lacing my fingers through her hair. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up, and you can explain my talents.”
“Where’d you get the suit?”
“Made a call, knew exactly what I wanted, gave my measurements, ordered it. They delivered it last night while you were in the shower.”
“That’s convenient, but more so, it’s crazy.”
“That motherfucker blindsided you, laid out pure shit thinking he had the upper hand, and did it when he knew you were alone.”
“I’m not helpless and weak. He took me by surprise, but I held my own.”
My fingers caress her scalp. “You’ve never been helpless and weak, but you shouldn’t have been in that position. He didn’t take me seriously Sunday night. That won’t happen again. He does not hold any power here.”
“I kinda regret telling you.”
“Baby, I walked into that therapy room and knew something was wrong.”
“I think we should let it go. There’s no point in visiting him.”
“For two nights, you’ve been restless, muttering in your sleep. You’re going through the motions, pretending to be fine, but are completely unfocused. It has nothing to do with your leg. I’ve watched your every move and know what he said got to you.”
She works her bottom lip between her teeth, her gaze going over my shoulder. “I tried to fight it, but he got to me,” she admits in a whisper.
“Do not be ashamed of that. You have a heart of gold. He used it to his advantage by catching you off guard and vulnerable. He flat out told you he looked into your life and everyone in it. The man is digging for something and I don’t trust it.”
“Take me with you.”
“I need to do this by myself. Marco Bindel’s used to being in charge. He’s about to understand who he’s dealing with.”
Her eyes come back to mine, and my stomach turns at the sadness swimming in them. “He doesn’t deserve your tears.”
“The tears aren’t for him. He’s a professional politician, Evin, be careful.”
“I can handle him.”
“Is he expecting you?”
“I didn’t make an appointment, but my guess is he’s been expecting me since he strolled out of the hospital.”
“I’m torn inside because a part of me knows you need to do this. The other part wants me to beg you to stay and not give him the satisfaction.”
“I’d do anything in this world for you, but you’re right. I need to do this.”
She leans in, placing her lips to mine. “I love you. Try not to get arrested or shot.”
“No problem. Go back to sleep.”
“That’s not happening.”
“Okay, then think of a way I can show my talents without hurting your leg.”
“That’ll be difficult with little range of motion.”
“Get creative.” I stand, brushing my lips across her head before letting her go.
She stays quiet while I put on my shoes and jacket, watching me thoughtfully.
“Be back soon.”
“I’ll have bail money ready just in case,” she jokes, a little grin on her lips.
The light is on in the kitchen, and Ryanne is standing at the coffeepot. When she spots me, she pours a travel mug and hands it over.
“It’s five in the morning. What are you doing up?”
“Waiting for you.”
“How’d you know I’d be up?”
“Based on your reaction Thursday night, I expected this. Is Poppy okay?”
“No.”
“You think his motives are genuine?”
“I’ll figure out his angle.”
“Dante’s meeting you at the hotel.”
“Call and tell him that’s not necessary.”
“We understand you want to do this alone, but it’s important to us. We love her, too. Dante wants to look him in the eyes and say a few things.”
I want to argue this is my battle, except she’s got a point.
“Fair enough, thanks for the coffee. Poppy’s awake if you want to keep her company.”
“On it.”
I grab my keys off the table, flick a wave, and head to my rental. The conversation with Poppy on Thursday night replays in my mind. The same anger boils low inside my chest, knowing he calculated his visit because she was most likely alone. That’s one of many things we’re straightening out today.
Only two men are working when I swing into the valet lane. One recognizes me from my many stays and opens my door with a smile. “Late night, or early morning?”
“Early morning.”
“Is your wife with you?” He peers over my shoulder.
“Not this time. Do me a favor and keep the truck out here. I won’t be long.”
“Sure thing, not a problem at this hour.”