I step over Tony's body and walk out of the house.
Daithí falls into step beside me. "Where now?"
I open the car door. “We go home, and we find out where that cunt is. He dies next,” I say simply.
Daithí gives me a nod. "Then Frederick Hightower's running out of time.”
Chapter 24
Quinn
Once again, Lorenzo is gone when I wake up. It’s been the same every morning for the past six weeks. He’s stressed out and trying not to let it show, but I know it’s affecting him. He had a meeting with Tony, and he didn’t exactly tell me how it went, but Tony was found dead with a bullet between his eyes. Daire is still missing and so is Frederick Hightower along with his father, Gregory.
Nausea rolls through my stomach and I breathe deeply through my nose. Ugh, the past two weeks have been the same, every morning I awake to find Lorenzo gone, and within minutes I’m feeling such severe nausea that I have to run to the bathroom and throw up. Sometimes I’m able to breathe through it. Others, I can’t. Today isn’t one of those days.
I push the sheets from my body and rush to the bathroom. My knees hit the cold tiled floor as I puke my guts up. There’s only bile since I have nothing else in my stomach. Even after I’ve thrown up, the nausea stays and I’m dry heaving. God, what a way to start the day.
I sit back on my heels once it recedes and breathe in slowly, trying my hardest not to trigger another bout of heaving. Once I’m able to, I stand, making sure that I’m steady on my feet. I rinse my mouth, and look at myself in the mirror. I’m pale, and my eyes look slightly glazed. Great, I look like death. Ugh, I need a shower.
An hour later and I make my way downstairs for breakfast. The shower did little to help me. I still look pale and sickly. If the sickness continues, I’ll have to make an appointment with the doctor to see if he can give me something for this stress.
Entering the kitchen, I see that I’m the last to join, and Lorenzo and Ciro aren’t here. I take a seat. “Good morning,” I mumble as I reach for some bacon and toast.
"You look terrible," Valentina whispers from beside me.
"Thank you, Val," I reply curtly.
"Quinn,” she says. “I didn’t mean anything bad by it. I mean it in a concerned way."
I sigh as I butter my toast. "I know, thank you."
I feel her gaze on me. It’s intense as she watches me. I try to ignore it, but she won’t stop. "Are you sick?"
"No."
I hear her click her tongue. "You look sick."
"Val," I sigh, I really don’t want to get into this right now.
"She's right," Cesare says, from behind his newspaper.
I gape at him. He rarely speaks. "I appreciate everyone's concern but I assure you all, I'm fine."
Vittoria sets a cup of tea in front of me without being asked and puts her hand briefly on my forehead as she passes me. "No fever," she says with a furrowed brow.
"Because I'm not sick," I say. “I’m just tired, that’s all,” I lie.
Nobody looks convinced, especially not Vittoria.
I take a bite of toast, and I immediately regret it. The nausea rolls through me again. The thought of eating has my stomach turning. I put the toast down and reach for my tea. I’m hoping that’ll settle my stomach.
Valentina notices. "You didn't eat."
"I took a bite," I say as I take a sip of tea. I don’t feel the roll of nausea hit me so I think I’m okay.
"One bite," she snaps, her eyes narrowing on me "How long has this been going on?"
My face flushes as I realize that everyone is staring at me now. Even Cesare has lowered his newspaper.
