“Hey, Iz.” I brush her hair back. “Baby.”
She makes a noise in her sleep. The doctor in the other room rustles yet another newspaper. I can’t leave her here like this. Luis and Antonio are on duty, but they don’t have the capacity to be on guard duty and play nursemaid.
CHAPTER 27
Tristan
Jane arrives sooner than I could have imagined. She brings Abe’s dad, and the first thing he does is go into the kitchen to see what food is in the fridge. He begins talking to the doctor like they’ve known one another for years.
“Thanks for doing this,” I tell Jane, whose face is paler than normal. I hadn’t even finished speaking to her on the phone when I heard the sounds of someone getting ready to leave their house. “I have to go to Fujimori’s. I’ll be there and back.”
“What happened?” she asks, not caring about anything else.
I hesitate. It’s like all those times my dad tried to ask questions and I swept them under the rug.
“I know someone is trying to kill her,” Jane says, her voice steady. She’s never been given much credit. She spends all day weaving around the restaurant, smiling at mobsters. Jane Fujimori can handle the truth.
I just don’t want to admit it. “Shit got real bad. One gunshot wound. She took the guy out herself.”
Jane’s face tightens, but she nods.
“It was hand-to-hand,” I add so she understands how close and personal it was.
“She is sleeping?”
“She hasn’t moved much. The doctor will be here.” I mess with the strap of my wristwatch. I need to get moving. “I don’t think she really understands that we’ve moved her.”
“Don’t worry.” Jane squeezes my arm. “Go. We’ve got her.”
I pretend her kindness doesn’t affect me. “Thank you, Jane.”
The commute is awful because it’s an important meeting. But it’s also one I called without having any clear facts.
“Alley,” Ben says when I get there. There’s a good bustle, everyone taking an early lunch since it’s Friday.
“Thanks.” I clap his shoulder.
He narrows his eyes. “Jane and Abe’s dad isn't here.”
There’s an aggressive fire on the stove as I pass through the kitchen, Abe yelling about Madonna and fried rice.
I find Boris Akatov leaning against a brick wall, his ankles crossed, with a cigar in his hand.
“His wife doesn’t like them in the house,” Dimitri explains when he sees my confusion. “What are you and the little shit playing at?”
Ben wasn’t lying when he mentioned the Russian doesn’t like Hadrian.
Boris is calm, but I notice the steady way he studies me. He is here because something went down with his daughter's best friend. Not to mention when they were nearby.
“Thanks for meeting?—”
“Spit it out,” Dimitri demands, riled. I’m not sure what plans I interrupted.
“Isolde killed a spider yesterday.”
“What?”
“Isolde killed a spi?—”
