“Sorry,” Teo Vitali said, opening the door wide. “Mr. D sent me up.”
“What is it?” I was snappier than I should have been, but right then there was only one person I wanted to see.
And then Vitali told me exactly what Baxter had planned.
“You want we should stop him?” he asked in the end.
My immediate response was to say yes, but I paused and thought about it. Bax was not going to let this go. And I wondered just how far he would push it without coming to me first. “We’ll play along,” I said slowly. “For now. Give him some GPS coordinates for Central Park.”
Vitali gave a respectful nod.
“Give him a clear run and wait for my signal.”
He was smart enough not to ask what it would be. “Anything else?”
“Give my thanks to Mr. D’Amato.” I pushed the heavy silk quilt off, choking off a yelp of pain, and had to pause.
“Do you, uh,” Vitali began. He cleared his throat. “Do you maybe need some help getting up, Mr. Angelo?”
I glared at him, but again, he showed nothing but respect. With a sigh, I conceded. “I’d appreciate it. Just to get to my feet. And—maybe some help with a robe.” I’d just realized I was wearing pajamas.Satinpajamas.
Vitali, to give him his due, didn’t even blink. But it would be hard to maintain respect as Underboss if I was hobbling around the place in shiny pajamas.
* * *
It wasn’t fun,but I could walk, once I was off the bed. Vitali went away to carry out my orders, while I made my way onto the landing, from which I could see the front door. From my vantage point I was not surprised at all to watch Bax go by the TV room, and then to the front door. He really meant to do it.
I couldn’t stop my grudging smile. Whatever his flaws, he didn’t lack courage.
As he moved to step outside, I called down. “Kid, if you take one step outside this townhouse, I will kill you myself.”
At the sound of my voice he froze, then turned slowly, looking up at me with a pale face.
“What the hell are you doing out of bed?” he demanded, walking back to the bottom of the staircase.
“What the hell areyoudoing trying to leave this house?” I shot back. Over his head, I gave a nod to one of the house guards outside, who had both shot to attention as soon as they heard my voice. The guard shut the door and, as Bax turned back toward it, turned the lock.
He looked back up at me, and walked a few steps up the stairs, his face half-amused, half-annoyed. “Okay. So this whole thing was a setup?”
“I’m afraid so.” I did not want to continue this conversation with all the house guards listening, so I beckoned with my head. “Come up here. Help me back to bed. We…have a lot to talk about.”
* * *
I was morerelieved than I could say to be back horizontal again. I’d had a lot of injuries over the years, and some had taken me even closer to death than this one, but for some reason I’d never felt quite as weak after any previous incidents. Perhaps it was my age, I considered. Or perhaps I was just out of practice. I hadn’t been shot for at least five years, when I thought about it.
Bax didn’t find that funny when I told him. “You need to rest,” he insisted, and tucked me back in gently. “And stop setting stupid trials to see what I’ll do.”
“I’m not the one who started that,” I said, but I leaned back with relief against the pillows again. “That’s on you. What the hell were you thinking?”
“I was thinking, this thing with Villiers ismyfight, he already nearly killed you once, and I’m not gonna let him have another go at you.”
“This isn’t justyourfight,” I growled, and grabbed his hand to pull him back as he tried to sit in the chair. “Don’t you get that?” He stared at me. “Sit,” I said. “On the bed, not all the way over there in the chair. Sit and listen to me.”
He sat, as commanded, and squeezed my hand in his. “Don’t get all excited, you’ll bust your stitches,” he said.
“Fuck my stitches. Now, Special Agent Baxter Flynn, what did I say were the conditions you had to follow while working with me?”
He bit his lip and actually smiled. “One, I do what you say. Two, I don’t ask questions about your day job.”
