27. Samantha
SAMANTHA
My father hurries up the stairs with Doc, who whistles when he sees Reese’s unmoving form. “What was this, a bear attack?”
“A bulldog,” I spit, glaring up at my father.
Doc’s eyes widen. “What the hell happened?”
“Dante happened,” I rasp out, my voice thick with tears. The only indication that Reese is alive is the breath whistling through his clearly broken nose.
Doc crouches next to him and I slowly lower Reese’s head off my lap onto the floor, standing up and backing away so he can work.
My father’s staring at me, shell-shocked. “Dante did this? Why?”
“I don’t know why! Because he’s fucking crazy. Call your fucking dog off, Papa, because he’s gotten off leash.”
“I didn’t order this, Sam, I would never—”
“Well, he’s lost his fucking mind,” I mutter as Doc straightens up, his face pale and worried.
“He needs a hospital,” he says quietly. “I can take him, but the bill—”
“I’ll take care of it. Put him under John Brown,” Papa says quickly.
I bite my lip. “I’ll go with you.”
“No, Sam, you shouldn’t be out and about—”
“I’m going with him, Papa!” I nearly scream.
Ricardo walks up behind Doc. “I’ll go with them. Keep them all safe.”
“Good,” Doc says, all business. “I’ll need your help carrying him out to the car.”
I hurry out to Doc’s SUV, which is parked in front. The party guests gasp when they carry Reese out. “Party’s over, folks,” Papa says. I can hear his voice booming as I get into the backseat.
I put Reese’s head in my lap. I’m comforted by his breathing, thin as it is.
Reese has always been protective, but never much of a fighter.
Dante’s first punch probably knocked him out.
He didn’t have to keep going. And for what, anyway?
Because he was jealous? Territorial? It’s not like Dante ever made a plan for things to work between us.
It’s not like he ever thought about going public.
He’s the one that talked me out of it. He’ll always choose Papa over me. I’ve accepted that.
Now he needs to.
We arrive at the hospital and they take Reese back on a stretcher immediately, doctors crowding around him. I wish I could get ahold of Sofia, but she’s gone ghost again.
She must be with Dmitri.
I chuckle bitterly. At least one of our trio should be happy.
Ricardo’s fingers brush my arm. “Sam? Are you okay?”
I look at him, giving him a grateful smile. “I’ll be okay if he’s okay.”
“He’s going to be okay,” he says firmly, but I’m not so sure. He hadn’t moved, not even a twitch, after all that time.
After hours, I start to doze off on Ricardo’s shoulder. The doctor comes out. “Family of John Brown?”
I stand up quickly and Ricardo follows. “He’s sustained a lot of damage,” the doctor says gravely, and my heart drops. “He has a concussion. Three broken ribs. His nose is broken. But he’ll recover.”
I sag and Ricardo catches me, one arm around me.
“He’s lucky. And if it were me, I’d tell him to press charges against whoever did this to him.” The doctor gives Ricardo a hard look.
“Can I see him?” I ask, and the doctor nods.
“Room two-ten. He may be a little out of it with the concussion. If he complains of pain, call the nurse.”
I nod, hurrying back to the room. It takes me a few minutes to find the right hallway, but I make it, slowly opening the door. Reese’s got tape across his nose and an IV in his arm but he’s sitting up, eyes mostly clear.
I burst into tears. “Sammy,” he croaks, and holds out his arms to me. I sit on the edge of his bed and he hugs me close. “I’m okay,” he says in a stuffed, nasal tone.
“You sound like you’re underwater.”
“Well, hey, they told me my brains weren’t scrambled.”
“No more than usual.”
He barks out a laugh and then grimaces. “That fucking hurts.”
“You broke a couple ribs.”
“You mean he broke them.”
I go silent, watching his face, tears still streaming out of my eyes. He hugs me tighter. “It’s not your fault. If it wasn’t me, it would have been Ethan.”
“I don’t know what’s wrong with him.”
“I do.”
I glare at him. “Don’t you dare defend him. Not after—”
“I’m not defending him. Not exactly. But… he’s just acting the way I feel when I see Vaughn dancing with someone else. He’s in love with you, Sammy.”
“No, he’s not.” Reese raises an eyebrow and I sigh. “And even if he is, it doesn’t matter. He won’t choose me. Not over Papa. Not over the life. He’ll never choose me and this baby, and that’s all that matters.”
“I”m not saying you should marry the guy. Just that I kind of… understand him.”
“You understand the guy who broke your nose?”
He groans. “When you say it like that I sound like a bitch.”
“If the shoe fits,” I tease, and he smacks me weakly on the shoulder.
“Maybe my brains are scrambled.”
I stand up. “Can I get you anything? Water? Food?”
His stomach audibly growls. “Burgers. Please. They said I can eat anything I want. I didn’t lose any teeth, thankfully.”
“I’ll get you the juiciest burger this side of town.”
“With bacon,” he pleads, and I smile.
I head out into the hallway and Ricardo leans against the wall. He straightens up when he sees me. “How is he?”
“He seems okay. Thank God. Listen, can you take me to get him something to eat?”
“Of course.”
Ricardo and I go to a drive-through and I get a large fry for myself and a bacon double cheeseburger for Reese. “I told you he’d be okay,” Ricardo says with a smile on the way back.
I stop munching on fries long enough to answer. “Yeah. No thanks to Dante.”
“I can’t believe Dante lost it like that. He must have had a reason.”
“I’m sure he did,” I say tightly. Even if things were different, I can’t trust him around my baby. Not anymore. “How’s your mom doing?
Ricardo stiffens. “Chemo’s hard.” It’s the only information he offers, and I don’t push. I really have come around to Ricardo, lately. He’s been there to take over for Dante every step of the way, and he’s been kind to me.
I can’t say the same for Dante. Especially after tonight.
We return to the hospital and Ricardo waits outside as I bring Reese the food. Reese eats voraciously, praising me with every bite.
“I think I like you on hard drugs.”
He scoffs. “Try not to get used to it.”
I bite my lip. “I’m really sorry about all of this.”
He waves a hand dismissively. “I told you. It isn’t your fault.”
“No, but if it wasn’t for me…” I trail off when Reese glares at me.
“Sammy. It’s not. Your fault,” he says pointedly, and I slowly nod. He’s quiet for another moment before he speaks. “I know how he feels. But how do you feel, Sammy?”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t play dumb. Do you love him?”
It takes me only a millisecond to answer. “Yes. I hate myself for it, but I do.”
He sighs. “I know how you feel. It’s not like I’ll ever have a real shot with Vaughn.”
“Have you called her? Told her you’ll be here a few days?”
“No.”
“I”m gonna call her.”
He pouts. “Don’t you dare.” But his voice is weak. I know he wants her here.
“Give me your phone.” He hands it over, flushing as I take the phone and head outside the room. Ricardo looks up from his phone but doesn’t react. I dial Vaughn’s contact number. She answers on the third ring.
“I told you not to call me, Reese–”
“This is Samantha Capetti. Reese is hurt. In the hospital.”
She goes silent. “Which hospital?”
“All Saints. Room two-ten.”
She breathes out a sigh. “I’ll be there in an hour. And Samantha?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.”
I hang up the phone, walking back into the hospital room. “Your girl will be here in an hour.”
Reese grins, his whole face lighting up. “She’s coming here? Really?”
“Really.” I lean down and kiss him on the forehead.
Ricardo’s quiet on the way back home. He gets out and comes inside with me, then goes up the stairs without saying goodnight.
I noticed Dante’s car was missing from the garage. It’s already late, nearly two in the morning. Where is he?
I blow out a breath, hating myself. It doesn’t matter where he is. But I can’t stop worrying as the night goes on and he doesn’t pull into the driveway. I keep checking out my bedroom window.
Finally, near daylight, I fall asleep.
I dream of him.