“Fucking hurry!” I yell to Beni. My heart is hammering as I check Rinaldo’s pulse. It’s there but it’s weak, and his breathing is shallow.
I swallow hard as I think about the first time we met. Jonathan had brought me to Chicago for a business venture, as he called it. We met at a shooting range, and Rinaldo had been so impressed with my accuracy, he talked about it for a full hour over dinner at the nicest restaurant I’d ever seen. He’d taken me back to his office that night and offered me the job.
He knew my background. He seemed to know everything about me. I didn’t know at the time Jonathan had done the research for Rinaldo, but he knew more than I expected him to know. He didn’t just know about it. He understood.
It was as if he crawled inside my head and knew everything I needed to hear. He set me up in an apartment, checked up on me, and invited me to his house for dinner. He introduced me to his wife and daughter and treated me as if I were one of his own. I didn’t even care how much he was going to pay me for the job; I just wanted to do well for him.
I wanted to make him proud of me.
As I look to his pale face, I’m reminded of Odin and how I held him as he died from a gunshot wound he had suffered trying to protect Lia. The same tightness fills my chest and gut now, and a wave of nausea blackens my vision.
If Rinaldo dies, I’m going to lose my mind.
I really can’t let that happen.
Chapter 11—Unsettling Complications
Beni is talking to the police, who were called as soon as Rinaldo’s injury was determined to be a gunshot wound. I can hear him going over the details of the “accident” at a nearby shooting range, and I try to commit as much to memory as possible in case I’m questioned. I recognize one of the police officers as someone on Rinaldo’s payroll, but I can’t recall his name. Hopefully, he’ll get any investigation shut down quickly.
I don’t need anything else on my mind—Rinaldo’s condition is enough.
He’d lost a lot of blood. A good amount of it was soaked through my jeans.
Jonathan shows up with a plastic bag from Old Navy in his hand. There are a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt inside.
“I wasn’t sure about your size, brotha,” he says, “so I guessed. Figured it’s better than what ya got. I got your rifle in the back of my truck.”
“Thanks.” I change in the restroom. By the time I get back to the waiting area, Gabriella Moretti is there along with Nick and Lucia. Lele is wringing her hands and wiping at her eyes as she hears what the doctor has to say. He pats her arm before walking back behind the closed doors.
“Lele,” I say quietly as I take her hand. She leans close and kisses my cheek. “I’m sorry—I wasn’t close enough to him. I didn’t see the—”
“Hush, Evan.” She places her hand on my cheek. “I don’t blame you.”
“The doc said he’s stable now,” Jonathan tells m
e. “You got him here just in time. If he’d lost any more blood…”
He lets his voice trail off, but it’s enough for Lele’s face to go pale. Lucia hugs her tight as Nick stands off to the side and shuffles his feet. His brow is furrowed as he stares at the floor.
It must be odd for him to be around Rinaldo’s wife, knowing his own mother was nothing more than Rinaldo’s weekend hookup. Lele never talked about Nick—never acknowledged him as family—but who could blame her for that?
Lucia approaches me, takes my hand, and leads me away from the group.
“What happened?” Her eyes are bloodshot, and she grasps my hand tightly.
“Someone knew exactly where we were going to be and when,” I tell her. “No doubt about it.”
“Someone inside?”
“Has to be.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know yet.” I take her chin in my hand and tilt her head up to look at me. “I will find out.”
Lucia nods before reaching up to wrap her arms around my neck. The warmth of her body against mine is unfamiliar, and as she presses against me, I feel my body begin to react to her closeness. I reach up and bring her hands back to her sides.
“I’m going to take care of it.”