Someone squeezes my hand tight and the pressure draws a small squeak from me. I hadn't known there was anyone in the room. I force my eyes open, squinting past the glare to get a good look at my companion.
She's a tall, shapely woman with dark hair and the same golden cast to her skin as Kase or Cruz. She's gotten taller since I've seen her last, and she's had a spade inked into her hand. But she still has that same natural beauty that drew men to her in high school. That sort of beauty that makes women hate her on sight, because it's effortless. Even now, as consternation tightens every muscle in her jaw, she's still a knockout.
"They've been at this for close to an hour," she informs me, unsurprised to see that I'm awake.
I open my mouth to speak but can't force sound past what feels like a wad of sandpaper in my throat. Penny reaches over my head, disappearing from sight for a few seconds before she returns clutching a glass of water. It's slippery with condensation and she slops a few drops onto my bare chest before righting it and bringing it to my lips.
"Sorry," she mutters. "I'm not usually a klutz."
I don't respond, too busy guzzling water. That cool glass of liquid probably isn't the best thing I've ever tasted in my life, but it feels like it right about now. I don't stop until the glass is dry and Penny pulls it away from me.
"Easy. Don't choke. Doc Harman had to work hard to get you back."
"What happened?" I croak. My voice still sounds rough, despite the water.
"How much do you remember?"
"Someone was trying to shoot my father and then..."
And there was the vague impression of noise before I slipped into unconsciousness. But that's all.
Penny nods, as if this tracks with what she's been told. "You're lucky. The bullet missed your lung. You lost a lot of blood though. It was touch and go there for a while. Kase and I both gave blood for your transfusion. He never told me that we share the same blood type. Go figure huh?"
I note that Cruzhadn'tgiven any blood. No wonder Kase is pissed. It’s a tacit approval of my death, even if it’s subtle. If my head will stop spinning, I'll climb out of this bed and deck him for that. But even sitting up hurts.
Taking stock of myself I find that I'm arranged on a couch and a barricade has been hastily put in place to disguise that I'm not wearing much. My bra is gone and the only thing that keeps me from being utterly indecent is the tight band of gauze that wraps my chest.
Penny plucks a piece of fabric from her lap and presents it to me. It's black but dotted with hundreds of tiny yellow dots.
"It's a wrap dress," she explains. "About the only thing I have that will fit and not require tugging it on over your head. Doctor Harman doesn't want you moving much at all, but I'm not sure we're going to have a choice."
She jerks her thumb at the screen with another roll of her eyes. "These two chuckleheads have been at it since Doc Harman told us you'd live. We're trying to decide where you go after this."
I don't ask her the obvious question. I know exactly why I can't stay where we are right now. It's too dangerous, for a number of reasons. Even if their doctor is on the up and up, a lot of the Spades won't be. It won't take long for word to get around that Brooklyn Gardel's battered and half-dead body has been dragged into Spade territory. They'll be of several minds of what to do with me. And there will be a dangerous number of them that want to finish what Dallas started.
Penny helps me hobble to my feet and brace myself against a wall. My arms and legs feel like cooked spaghetti, utterly unable to support my weight. She's forced to do most of the work it takes to get me dressed. In the end, the dress fits well, but still feels utterly alien against my skin. I don't think I've ever worn something this feminine in my life.
The shouting is reaching a fever pitch outside of the barricade.
"She can't stay here!" Cruz shouts. "I know you don't give a damn about the Spades, Kase, but I do! Keeping her here is going to get people killed. How long do you think it will take Gardel to change his mind, huh?"
"What happened to rule number one, Cruz? We protect women! All women!"
"Nother," Cruz says coldly.
Both of them turn to face Penny and I when she shoves the barrier aside. It clatters into the wall noisily and all three shapes on the other side jump. Kas and Cruz are in each other's personal space, creating the vase effect with their identical and furious faces. The third shape is smaller than Cruz and crouched at his elbow. I zero in on her. This must be Holly Cruz.
I'm shocked at how similar we are. She's shorter than me, but not by much. Her hair is more gold than platinum, her eyes green, not blue. But we both have rather impressive figures, pale skin, and an undeniable air of stubbornness that clings to every pore. Cruz is half-holding her back and it's clear that it's annoying the hell out of her. My lips slide into a smile, though even that effort exhausts me.
I think I like Holly, just a little.
Kase reacts to Cruz's statement like it’s a slap. And it takes no time at all for his expression to morph from shock to thunderous fury. He lunges for Cruz. Cruz responds in kind, gearing up for a punch.
And just like before, there's no thought to the action I take next. Someone I love is about to get hurt. I stumble out of Penny's grasp and try to push myself between them. It's more of a fall than anything else, but it has the desired effect.
It's Cruz who catches me, not Kase. It proves that he's not heartless underneath the layer of general dickery after all. If he was inclined, he could have just let my head smack concrete.
He stares down at me, incredulous, as if he, too, didn't believe this act of gallantry was something he could have extended to me. But he doesn't let me drop. There's a protracted second where he's examining me, sizing up the woman that Kase has sacrificed so much for. Has he truly gotten to see me up close like this before? He's only laid eyes on me twice. Once, during the shootout in the warehouse all those years ago, and second, as Kase and I left his father's wake for our final farewell.
