“At least I haven’t killed anyone in the family,” he says with a sneer. “At least I am family. What are you? The adopted fucking puppy?”
I clench my teeth, and I am seconds away from pulling the trigger. There would be witnesses, and there’s no way I’d just walk away from it. I can see people going in and out of the doors in my peripheral vision. If I’m going to kill him, I’ll have to take him out somewhere else, and he’s not going to go quietly.
I stare at him. I stare at him and think of Rinaldo lying in his bed. This is the last thing he needs. Maybe I am the rescued dog because I’m going to continue to protect him.
“I don’t know what you think you know,” I say quietly as I lower the gun and shove it back in my shoulder holster, “but if you think saying something to Rinaldo or Lucia is a good idea—”
“I’m not saying anything.” Nick’s jaw stays tense as he speaks, but his tone is softer. “Just don’t think that I’m only a stupid stoner. I see shit, and I can put shit together.”
“Nick…” His name is a warning on my tongue.
“I think I know why you did it,” he says, “but don’t go spouting loyalty shit to me right now, okay? I’m not buying it.”
My hands twitch, and Nick’s lucky I’ve got just enough control not to pull the gun back out again.
“Anything and everything I do is for Rinaldo and his family.” My voice is a snarl through my teeth. “Don’t you ever forget that, bastard.”
I shove his chest, pushing myself away from the wall and the hedges before stomping out into the hospital parking lot. Anything else would have meant blood, and I needed to get out of there. I don’t doubt that Nick will keep his mouth shut. Even if he doesn’t care about his own life, I believe that he doesn’t plan on telling anyone. That said, he’s still a risk to me now.
How could I have been so careless?
I should have made sure every last piece of that bracelet was removed. I’d been sloppy. If Nick figured it out, someone else could as well. He needs to go, but I’m not about to kill Rinaldo’s son at this point, bastard or not.
I’d done enough to hurt Rinaldo already.
A thought comes to me, and I pull out my phone and call Bastian.
“Is this going to become a frequent thing?” he asks as he answers my call.
“Well, hopefully not for the same reasons.” I chuckle. “I’m just wondering what you know.”
“About what?” Bastian asks.
“Are you still connected to the business at all?”
“Not really,” he says. “John Paul used to provide me with info, but I haven’t talked to him in months. He’s still living in Miami with some stripper.”
“There are a lot of changes going on here now,” I say. “Major changes. It’s possible I might need your help.”
“Is that what this is all about? I’m not fighting again.”
“No, not that. I wouldn’t ask you to do that.”
“What, then?”
“Rinaldo has a son,” I tell him. “A son that is going to need to get out of the city. He’s not a target right now, and I want to keep him that way.”
I also want to keep myself from killing him.
“What does that have to do with me?”
“I might send him your way.”
“So I can do what with him?”
“You don’t need to do anything with him,” I tell him. “Just maybe help him find a place to stay for a while until he can get himself settled. Someplace close to you in case he has problems. I don’t expect him to, but it would be nice to know there’s someone near.”
“I can find him a place,” Bastian says. “It might be temporary, but it would buy him enough time to find something else.”