They’ll need at least four seven-seater SUVs to get them all here along with the guards they’ll bring. If they flew from the regional airport in Queens to Yonkers, it’d be about ten minutes. However, the time it would take to get the plane ready would be a waste. Plus, they’d need mine to accommodate everyone when they add Vita and me.
I can’t believe I’m thinking straight enough to consider any of this or to have followed along with the conversation. But the distraction’s the only thing that’s keeping me from howling in pain. Nothing has ever hurt as badly as it does now. I’ve had broken ribs, punctured lungs, bruised kidneys, bone bruises, stab wounds, and bullet holes. This shit right now is for the fucking birds.
Now that I’m not trying to downplay things for my parents, my mind’s growing fuzzy. I’m so exhausted that all I want to do is close my eyes and nap. Vita’s squeezing my hand, telling me to stay awake as she dials 911. I don’t have it in me anymore. I hear her speaking to the dispatcher, but it’s like she’s miles away.
“Hello? I need an ambulance. My husband’s been badly burned in an explosion… I’m not from here. I don’t know where we are.”
Husband? When’d I get promoted?
Chapter Twenty-Two
Vita
Husband.
The word tumbled out of my mouth as though I’ve said it a thousand times.
I wish.
Today’s been a startling day of revelations, and realizing I want Alejandro to be my husband is utterly reassuring compared to everything else.
I said it because I know that’s the only way I’ll have a say in what happens while he’s in the hospital. I’ll step back when his parents arrive, but for now, he needs someone who can decide and give consent. He’s barely conscious, and as the pain sets in further, I doubt he’ll remain that way.
“I wonder if my scar will make me as menacing as Luca.”
“Huh?”
Alejandro’s babbling more than anything, so I’m not following his train of thought.
“What scar?”
He brings his fingers toward his right cheek and points.
“The cut. It’ll scar. I wonder if it’ll make me appear more menacing like Luca Mancinelli. I’m tired of people assuming God gave me looks but no brains. A scar would be manly.”
I nearly choke as I struggle to swallow my laugh. Alejandro’s the manliest man I’ve ever met. Yes, he’s fucking genetic perfection and gorgeous beyond measure. But he’s everything I could want: intelligent, funny, strong, caring, protective, determined. My list can keep going, but I need to pay attention to the dispatcher.
“Stay on the line with me, ma’am. We have an ambulance on its way. Is your husband still responsive?”
“Barely.”
“What parts of his body suffered burns?”
“His right leg and arm, and there are wounds on his back too. He cut his cheek on some metal. Plus, the smoke inhalation.”
“Ma’am, are you suffering from that too? You sound out of breath and raspy.”
“Yes. But it’s my husband who needs more attention.”
“I can send two ambulances.”
“No! You will not separate me from my husband.”
“You can follow in your vehicle.”
“I don’t have one with me, and I wouldn’t use it anyway.I am staying with my husband.”
I’m practically snarling. I’ll go completely feral if they attempt to stop me. If anyone’s that foolish, they’ll find themselves at the tip of Alejandro’s blade—blades.
