Chapter 15
Chapter
Fifteen
KATE
I stared at Dante’s outstretched hand, an internal battle waging inside my head. Given who he is, and the events of today, I have zero reasons to trust anything he says or does. With the reality of the situation, I have no other choice than to see what awaits me.
Slipping my hand in his, an oddly warm sensation ripples up my arm. Standing to my full height, I expect him to release my hand, instead, he tightens his grip and pulls me behind him.
He leads me down a hall, passing several men who bow their heads as we walk by. Placing one foot in front of the other, I look at the walls, taking in the musty smell of them. When we reach the end of the hall, Dante looks at me over his shoulder before twisting the door handle and leading me into the brightly lit room.
My feet move of their own accord as I take in the man lying in the bed against the far wall.
“Are you serious?” I shriek, running to the side of the bed. Pointing to Angelo, “He needs to be in a hospital.”
Running my fingers through my hair, I take in Angelo’s ashen skin and red cheeks. “Mother…” I trail off, touching his forehead with my hand.
“What is it?” Dante is beside me in a second, his voice laced with worry.
Scanning Angelo’s body, I find beads of sweat forming on his upper lip, tiny goosebumps blanketing his skin.
“He has a fever,” I think aloud, running my hands down his face and to his shoulder. As my fingers collide with the edge of his shoulder, a sour smell hits my nose. “No, no, no,” I chant as I pull the gown to the side, revealing the source of the smell.
“Maron.”
Ignoring Dante’s oath, I pull off the bandage, turning my head as the stench intensifies. “It’s infected.” Frustration coats my words as I tilt my head back and stare at the ceiling.
“He needs a fucking hospital.” When my statement is met with silence, I lower my head, sliding my gaze to Dante’s serious glare.
“What?” Shifting my gaze between Dante and the man standing in the doorway, Frankie, if I remember correctly.
My stomach drops as Dante reaches into his pocket. He’s going to kill me, I think to myself, my heartbeat quickening as he pulls his hand out and sits on the edge of the bed.
“Do you remember the man from the ER, the one the cops were detaining?”
Nodding, “Leg injury.”
A smirk curls the left side of Dante’s lips as he opens his hand, a beautiful crucifix dangling from his fingers. My attention is drawn to the tattoos on his fingers, elegant script spelling out the word Bella .
“Earlier that day, Angelo and I met with him after discovering he was stealing from our company.”
I watched in fascination as Dante rubbed each bead between his fingers before moving to the next.
“After we came to an agreement for repayment, Chuy decided to change the terms by opening fire on us.”
“Why?” I instantly regret the question. Dante was a member of organized crime and by the tattoo on Chuy’s neck, I knew he was in with the cartel.
“How much do you know about the cartel?”
Taking several steps to the left, I drop onto the empty chair in the corner. “Well, I know they most likely originated in Mexico. Heavily involved in drug trafficking.” I regurgitate the information I’d been given during one of the hospital’s safety briefings. As a teaching hospital, we see everything and everyone.
“Anything else?”
Nodding, I point at the side of my neck, “Chuy had the tattoo of a Drug Lord, the highest rank in the Cartel.”
It’s slight, but I see a glimmer of surprise in Dante’s eyes.
“I also know you are deep in organized crime yourself.” There was no point in denying what I know. Given the coffee he had delivered to me, and how he managed to put the watch in my secured locker, he had to have been watching me.
“When Chuy learned Angelo survived the surgery, he ran his mouth to the wrong people about his plans to send one of his men to finish the job.”
It didn’t escape me his lack of denial of what I’d said regarding his involvement in organized crime.
“I know you saw the news report yesterday. Something you may not know, the cartel has no boundaries, except one.” Dante added flatly, pocketing the rosary.
“Money,” I let out a humorless laugh. “You destroyed their warehouses.” Shaking my head, I lean back in the chair in disbelief. Having heard horror stories of the crimes committed by the cartel, I was floored anyone would dare go against them.
“We can’t go back to Boston due to the weather. Angelo isn’t stable enough to travel,” Dante ticks the points on his fingers. “Chuy would have taken out anyone who got in his way of getting to my brother.”
“So you brought him here.” Given the circumstances, I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same in his position.
“Wait.” Leaning forward, my hands dangling between my knees. “The authorities are looking for Angelo.”
“No,” Dante shook his head. “The authorities are looking for Chuy.” Dante corrects me, his cheshire smile returning.
Confusion grips me momentarily as I try to decipher what he isn’t saying. Suddenly, as if the missing piece of a puzzle appeared, “You made it look like Chuy is responsible.”
“I may have alluded to the fact there was an altercation in the ER, and the fact one of his men is dating a nurse and another is related to one of the security guards.”
“What about me, did you make them think Chuy was responsible for my disappearance?”
Dante shifts his gaze to Angelo, taking several slow steps until he reaches the head of the bed. I watch as he reaches down, brushing his fingers against the side of his hand.
“Angelo would slit my balls in half if I put you in harm's way. Especially after you defended him to that fuck, Mallace.” Taking a step back, Dante moves his gaze back to mine.
“I need you to get him well enough to leave.”
“You need a doctor,” I drift my attention to the infected wound on Angelo’s chest. “A hospital with proper equipment,” I add, thinking of all the medication it will take to clear up the infection.
“Listen,” Dante rounds the end of the bed, sitting on the edge of the bed in front of me. “You have no reason to want to help us. I give you my word, you are free to leave any time you want.”
“Free to go?” I echo back, incredulously.
“Yes,” Dante leans forward, placing his tattooed hand on my knee. “However, if you chose to help, I will pay you five times what that watch is worth, get you anything you need to treat him, and when this is over, I will make sure you are returned in the same shape you arrived in.”
Dante makes a convincing argument, still I wasn’t a doctor, and it would be impossible to get the kind of equipment I need to do any good without the signature of a physician. While I could sign for almost any drug I needed, until I sat for boards, I had to have a co-signature by a licensed physician.
Scanning his handsome face, combined with the warmth of his hand on my knee had me panting like a bitch in heat. No good could come of this, I need a clear head, one not clouded by sexual tension.
Jumping to my feet, “I need a minute.” I mumble, spearing my fingertips into my hair. I can feel a headache coming as I rush past Frankie and the other men lining the hallway. Unsure of where I am, I put one foot in front of the other until I find what looks to be a kitchen. Standing in the center, I spin around taking in the room and the distinct smell of brewed coffee.
Despite what Dante said, I know in my soul this would end badly. There was no way I could get the supplies I need, and they would certainly kill me if he succumbs to sepsis.
“Here, looks like you could use this.”
Moving my attention to my right, I find Frankie with a cup of what I hope is the coffee I smell in his outstretched hand.
“Thank you.” My voice trembles as I take the steaming cup.
“For what it’s worth, you may not have MD behind your name, but from what I’ve seen you don't need it.”
Raising the cup to my lips, I close my eyes as I sip the hot liquid. How many patients have I pondered about their illness as I drank this golden nectar? Turning toward the door, I consider testing Dante’s words and try to leave.
“There is a fireplace in the front room. How about you take your coffee and go think about Dante’s offer for as long as it takes to finish that coffee.” Frankie stands not three feet away, hands hooked on his slender hips motioning toward the roaring fire behind him.
The room is too inviting to ignore, and my feet move of their own accord as I find a chair beside the fireplace. Staring into the flames, I allow myself to fade away from the situation, back to a conversation I had with my nona.
“ Angels come in all forms, Katie. Our job isn't to judge them, but to help when they need us. ”
Nona had such faith in me, encouraging me to follow my dreams and be the person she knew I could be. Would she still be proud if she knew where I was and what I was faced with doing? Would she choose doing what is right, even if it meant certain death?
Raising the cup to my lips, I jump as Frankie’s voice booms behind me.
“Doc, you need to come quick.”