The doctor stares at him and then looks at me again. I turn to Luciano. “Put the fucking gun away, man. He’s trying to help us. Jesus, I have him on payroll to help with gunshot wounds and shit. He’s not a fucking brain doctor,” I tell him.
Looking as irritated as possible, he leans forward and slides the pistol into the back of his slacks.
“Neurologist,” Dr. Payton says, straightening his glasses. “That’s what a doctor who specializes in brains is called.”
Turning back to the doctor, I narrow my gaze. “Thanks, smart-ass.”
He smirks and goes back to his computer. “I do, however, know two of the best in the entire world. I am reaching out to them now. They will contact you to discuss fees and scheduling.
“Migraines can be common after an accident, especially with the severity of her concussion and the trauma she went through. It’s possible that there’s nothing in particular that triggers them. And one day, if she’s lucky, they’ll disappear forever and never return. An updated brain scan should give the doctorssomething to get started with. If you bring her to this facility, they can give her an MRI.”
“The doctors in the hospital said they would go away. I assumed they had, or I never would have allowed her to move here by herself,” Luciano says, then abruptly rises, shaking his head. “This is fucking bullshit!”
He storms out of the room as Dr. Payton and I watch. Turning back to me, he shrugs. “I kind of like him.”
“What about the pain she’s still having in her leg? It’s been a year. She’s done extensive rehab, and she still hurts.”
He types on his laptop and pulls up an X-ray of her left side from her hip to her knee. When I see it, my stomach goes queasy as I stare at the shards of bones inside.
“Her hip and femur were pulverized. I don’t know the details of the crash, but I’d say the person was going at least eighty in a heavy vehicle. I’ve never seen anything like this in all my years as a trauma specialist. If Mr. Ricci hadn’t gotten the surgeons flown in so quickly, I’m not sure Lacey’s recovery would have gone as well as it has.”
I squint at him. “He brought in a surgeon?”
He looks at his screen again. “A team of five, actually. Mr. Ricci paid fifty million to have the best orthopedic trauma surgeons brought in from France.”
Of course he did.
Fuck.
I’m going to have to apologize for being such a dick.
“Even though they did a fantastic job, Lacey will always have some problems with that leg. The hot tub is great for pain relief. Ice if she’s experiencing swelling. Some find that water therapy is effective. And stretching, but she has to be careful not to overdo it. Her flexibility isn’t the same as it was.”
He rattles on, giving me more information while I add it all to memory so I can take better care of her. I hate that she has to live with pain. She’s had enough of that in her lifetime.
When I walk him out, Luciano is standing outside smoking a cigar. He offers one to me as Dr. Payton drives away.
I accept it and his lighter, the smoke furling around me when I light it. “You paid fifty million dollars for Ace’s surgery team.”
“I would have paid everything I had, if that’s what it took,” he says as he gazes off into the distance.
“Look,” I turn toward him as he takes a drag. “I’m so fucking in love with Ace. She’s… There’s something special about her. I know you understand what I’m talking about.”
Luciano slowly nods, not saying anything.
“She’s magical. She has brought me back to life. And I have to be honest, I’m possessive as fuck. I’m going to want to spend every second with my girl. That’s not going to go well if you and I don’t get along.”
He sighs, and I inwardly chuckle because I think he’s about as happy about this as I am.
“I only want the same thing as you. For Ace to be happy,” I tell him. “And now I can at least say I was the bigger man and tried to make amends.”
Luciano glares at me for a few seconds before he laughs and shakes his head. “You motherfucker. Just wait until I tell her you fucking ambushed me with sniper rifles. We’ll see how she feels about you then.”
Smirking, I shrug. “I’m not worried.”
Maybe I am a little.
She probably isn’t going to be too pleased about that.
