“Conor’s here too?”
“Yes, along with my security detail. Since the attack on you and Luca, Conor’s insisted on extra protection. He wouldn’t let me come to New York without it.”
“Oh.” Extra protection. For a moment I wonder if extra protection would have made any difference to me and Luca. Probably not. Probably just more dead and damaged men.
The door opens, but this time it’s Aidan, his glasses appearing around the side of the door. “Hi, Tara,” he squeaks. “Finch—I thought maybe you need a ten-minute walk or something? I can sit with Luca if you like.”
“I’ll come say hello to your people,” I tell Tara, although the last thing I want to do is leave Luca here. But I still feel stiff all over, my head heavy and dull. Getting out of the room, even if just for a few minutes, will wake me up.
Outside and a little way down the hall there seems to be a Heavies Convention going on. The combined presence of the Morelli and Donovan bodyguards has not gone unnoticed by the hospital staff, although when they see me joining them, the tension lowers a little. I give Darla the nurse a nod at her questioning glance, and although she still frowns at the men, she gives me a nod back. Guess she won’t call in security just yet.
“These guys claim they’re with your sister, Mr. D,” Bobby Tramonto tells me as soon as I arrive in hearing distance. His voice is gruff. Suspicious. All the Morellis are moving in front of me, squaring off against the Donovans.
“They are,” I say, but it doesn’t stop them milling around me. “Okay, you all need to stop hanging around in a group like this,” I add. “You’re freaking the staff out.”
Teo Vitali appears at the entrance to the ward, looking like a man on a mission.
“Go on, now,” he says when he arrives at the group of us. “Back to your posts. I checked it out; we’re okay.” He gives an up-nod to Conor, who gives one back, while the Morellis disperse—two to guard Luca’s door, two more to skulk separately in reception, and I know there are more of them throughout the rest of the hospital, too.
Teo stays with me. I figure he must be waiting for Aidan. The Irish contingency—Conor O’Hara and two other men—give me respectful nods.
“Hi, Conor,” I say, offering a hand.
“I’m very sorry to hear about your husband,” he says, and I’m touched that he saidyour husbandrather thanDon Morelli. Maybe he figures discretion is called for out in the open like this. Still, I like him for it.
“Thank you. Who’s with you?” I turn my attention to the other two men. Vitali might be our security specialist, but there’s no way I’m going to let anyone hang around in this waiting room without knowing who they are myself.
Conor flicks his head at them, and they step forward one at a time to shake my hand.
“Rory Byrne,” says the first, with a smile that has exactly the right edge of sympathy to it without being condescending. His thick black hair falls in loose ringlets around his face, the kind of face you do a double take at because it’s so damn handsome.
“Everyone calls me Murph,” says the older, wiry man. He’s rodent-like, with a sharp nose and chin and prominent overbite. “Pleasure to meet you.” He shakes my hand but I yank mine away, sucking in a breath.
Irish.RealIrish, his brogue rich and warm and familiar to me, the kind that I heard growing up when we had visiting family members from the place we calledback home, even though our branch of the family had bred several generations in America.
“I’m Finch,” I say at last. “Just call me Finch. Everyone does. Well, except Tara. I hear you’re looking after my sister?”
I wonder what they think about me, what they’ve heard about me. There’s a curiosity in their eyes, a watchfulness, a deliberative gaze like they’re summing me up.
“Rory here made a hero out of himself just last week saving Ms. Donovan’s life,” Conor says drily, but I don’t miss the look he and Rory exchange. It’s a look that should be kept private, the kind of look Luca and I give each other without thinking sometimes.
Well, well. Good for Conor.
But feeling that flirty, lighthearted energy bouncing around between them just makes me remember my own soulmate, laid out and unmoving just down the hallway. “I’ll get back to Luca,” I say, and I try to smile. “Unless there’s anything I should know about?” I ask Teo.
Teo shakes his head. “I got word there might be something going on outside. Someone checking out the scene,” he adds. “But there ain’t nobody there now.”
“I’d still prefer to get you out of here and back to the hotel, Ms. Donovan,” Conor insists.
“I should let Howie get some rest, anyway,” Tara says. She hugs me again as we say our goodbyes, and then she and her men make their way out of the waiting room. The hospital staff at the reception counter visibly relax. They’re used to the Italian mobsters hanging around here, but not so muchen masse, not to mention the additional Irish.
Speaking of the Irish, I turn to Teo. “I’ll send Aidan back out to you so you can leave.”
“I’m here to watchyou, Mr. D,” Teo tells me gently. “Relieving Carlucci for the night so he can get a little sleep. But you send Aidan on out and get some rest yourself.”
“Oh. Well—thanks for being here.”
“Just doing my job,” Teo says, but he looks so grim that I almost ask again if there’s anything I should know about. But I’m not supposed to know too much about Family business, and I don’t have time to worry about the Morelli Family right now.
