Chapter 18 #2
“I knew you were still keeping something from me, Tre. It had to be Sean O’Rourke’s nosy ass that tells me the truth.”
“You believe anything coming from him is true?”
“He sent me proof. I saw it.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Your uncle sent you down to New York not to spy on Tía Elle or Toria. He sent you to use my tía and my new cousin, so he could learn what’s happening with our role in the Italian turf war.
Is that why you kept watching me at the rehearsal dinner and talked to me at the reception? Ingratiating yourself?”
I push the covers back and swing my legs over the edge of the bed. Joaquin’s long stride has him at my side and lifting my legs before I can grip the handrail to pull myself up to standing.
“Do not get out of that bed, Tre. I will fucking tie you to it. The doctor said bed rest.”
“I’m not going to take your accusations lying down.”
“You took some?—”
“What? What were you going to say, Joaquin? That I took something else lying down?”
His silence tells me that’s exactly what he nearly said.
I’m glad he caught himself because I don’t know that there’d be any coming back from that.
The words themselves along with his willingness to degrade me would’ve pushed me away.
I know he’s quick with his words, and he wields them as a weapon.
He has responses for everything on the fly, and his instinct told him to lash out. His conscience stopped him.
Glad to know which one is stronger. At least with me.
“Do not call me by my full name, chiquita. You know that’s not how we are. I’m not a child for you to chastise when you’re far more in the wrong than I am.”
My graze sweeps over him. There’s nothing childlike about the man. Boyish when he smiles sometimes, but definitely not a kid.
“Fine, Daddy.”
He puts a hand on each rail and leans over me, forcing me to recline. His nose practically touches mine.
“That’s right. When the doctor says you’re well enough for sex, I’ll know you’re well enough for your punishment. Your sweet little ass will burn for days. I will fuck your cunt raw, so you remember exactly who your daddy is.”
His threats—promises—should terrify me.
They shouldn’t arouse me.
But fuck if I’m not soaking wet.
“Are you going to spank me?”
“Among other things. You’re not a child, even if you call me Daddy now. I have other ways to make sure you understand the grave error you made by betraying me.”
“Wait, Joaco. I did not betray you. I haven’t told my uncles shit.
That’s why they wanted to talk to me without you in the room.
If I’d been feeding them info like they wanted, there would’ve been nothing to talk about.
It wasn’t some catch-up session. They wanted me to manipulate you and use your sympathy to get closer to your family. ”
“And I’m supposed to be grateful you’re telling me now?”
“Maybe not grateful, but I am telling you. And don’t you dare take the best night of my life and ruin it by saying it meant nothing to me. It meant everything.”
I won’t let him ruin the memory of that night.
I will not cry. Not from anger or from hurt. Not from the way my belly’s cramping again. I swallow to fight the sudden burst of pain.
“Tre, what’s wrong? What’s happening?”
“How do you know?”
I swallow again, nauseous now.
“Because nothing you do goes without me noticing. I’m learning you, and I’ve always known when you’re keeping something from me. You’re in pain again.”
“I’m cramping.”
The guilt that floods his eyes seizes my attention, and for a moment I don’t notice the pain. He brushes hair back from my face.
“I’ll get a nurse.”
I grab his forearm as he pulls away.
“No. Don’t leave. Press the call button.”
He shakes his head. “You know they take forever to respond to that. I’ll be right back.”
I can only nod as my hand covers my belly.
His hand rests on top of mine for a moment before he’s rushing to the door.
I widen my legs and pull up my gown, fearful that what I thought was arousal only moments ago is something worse.
There’s nothing to see. I pull the covers over my bare legs but make sure my gown is loose enough to lift it when someone comes to examine me.
I turn my head toward the door when it opens and a woman walks in. I look past her, but I don’t see Joaquin. Immediately, I’m on edge. There’s no way he’d send someone in and not come with them.
“Who are you?”
“I’m Cynthia. I’m the charge nurse.”
“No, you’re not. The shift hasn’t changed, and I met Gloria when they brought me up here.”
While getting me settled in here, the charge nurse and the two nurses assigned to me—because my father said if one is good, two is better—introduced themselves.
The staff’s under strict instructions that Joaquin meets everyone at every shift change.
It was one of the few things he and my parents agreed upon.
I reach beneath the covers and press the call button.
“We’re sending someone, Ms. Vizzini.”
“Help!”
If I didn’t already know this stranger didn’t belong in here, that confirmed it. The woman rushes forward, a scalpel in her hand. I have nothing to shield myself with or to fight back with. The cramping nearly steals my breath. It’s not the movement. It’s stress.
That’s what’s causing it.
I’m not fucking losing my baby because of this bitch.
I reach behind me and grab the pillow at the last moment.
I didn’t think of it at first, but it’s the only thing I have to protect myself.
She drops the scalpel and tries to smother me, but I’m far stronger than I look.
I grab a hank of her hair and tug as hard as I can.
Her head snaps back, exposing her neck. I toss the pillow aside and drive my fist into her throat.
There’ve been many people I’ve wanted to throat punch but never got the chance. This is as satisfying as I always assumed.
She gasps and stumbles backward, but I still have hold of her hair. She flails, her hand bumping into my IV stand. She wraps her fingers around it and pulls. It rips the needle from my arm, making me scream.
“Tre!”
Joaquin’s no avenging angel. His dark hair and dark eyes make him the devil in disguise.
His custom-tailored suits create an aura of a wealthy businessman and belie the truth beneath the material.
He’s a towering six-feet-four of muscles who’s crushing the woman’s windpipe with one hand.
His other hand pries hers loose from the pole.
He swings around and slams her into the wall.
“Who are you?”