Page 24 of Love Above Law

"The gunman. The homeowner managed to shoot him before he could kill them both. She's upstairs in labor and delivery." The sheriff opens his truck door. "It's colder than penguin shit out here. If you're looking for more information, you'll have to come down to the station." Realizing there isn't a thing I can do here but wait and knowing her family won't give up any answers, I decided to follow the Sheriff a few blocks away to the police department. "I'm right behind you."

The sheriff used his pull and found out Leyna made it through surgery and is resting in ICU. Because of the law, they couldn't give out specific information when it came to her health and injuries but knowing she's going to be okay puts me at ease for now. Since regular visiting hours for non-family members were over two hours ago, I decide there is nothing more I can do today.

The nearest hotel from the hospital happens to be directly across the street. As soon as I close the door behind me, I throw my coat across the foot of the queen-sized bed and glance out the window. It's still snowing outside.

Grabbing the file I originally came back for, I stretch out in the bed and toe my shoes off before leaning back against the headboard. I open the manila envelope. Most of the paperwork looks to be old mail addressed to Santino himself from a couple of weeks after his death. Money transfers? I thumb through the rest of the statements. As far as I knew we seized all assets in his name. Someone is getting their hands on his money with a dead man's signature—so we have a problem.

As hard as I try, I can't keep my mind clear enough to think about anyone else but Leyna. Sliding the papers back into the envelope, I set the file on the nightstand beside me and flip the switch on the lamp turning the light off. I lay here for I don't know how long until drifting off to sleep.

* * *

The next day, I'm showered and out the door before the sun comes up. Saying fuck it to scrapping snow and ice from the SUV, I walk across the road to the hospital in the cold. After finding out Leyna's room number I ride the elevator to the second floor, walk down the hall pass the nurses station and spot her name on the outside of the door the moment I turn the corner. Pausing, I knock.

"Come in," Leyna's tired voice calls out. I push the handle down and walk into her room.

She gasps. "Lex?"

Fuck it feels good to put eyes on her. "Hey, beautiful."

Adjusting, she pushes the button and raises the head of her bed. "What are you doing here?"

I take a seat next to her on the edge of her bed. "How are you feeling?"

Confused, she answers. "I'm feeling better. Sore but I'm going to be okay." Grabbing her hand in mine, I look her over.

"Lex," she grabs my attention and, my eyes lock with hers. "Why are you here?" she asks again.

"For you."

Leyna's eyes fill with emotion. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I feel so emotional right now," her eyes lift back to mine, "but, I'm happy you're here." She's quiet for a moment. "When did you get here?"

"Yesterday," I tell her. Leyna thinks about that for a minute.

"How did you get here so fast?"

"I was already on my way to Polson—to see you," I confess.

A faint knock on her door is followed by her brother walking in. "What the fuck is he doing here?" Gabriel's voice echoes as he storms toward us.

My body becomes rigid and I place myself between him and Leyna. "If you have a problem you take it up with me asshole."

"Good morning to you too, hermano." Leyna peers around my body. Placing her hand on my forearm, she gently guides me to step aside to have a clear view of her hot-headed brother.

Ignoring me altogether, Gabriel begins to speak to his sister—in Spanish. I understand every word. I'm fluent in the Spanish language. It's one of few skills I mastered to become an FBI agent.

"Eplícame porque esta pedazo de mierda aquí. Explain to me why this piece of shit is here?" he says to her.

Leyna crosses her arms. "Este no es tú negocio, Gabriel Martinez. That is not your business, Gabriel Martinez."

"Tú eres mi hermana. Tú eres mi negocio. You are my sister. You are my business," Gabriel yells.

" Estas es mi vida. This is my life," Leyna's voice rises.

I've heard enough. "Apártate hijo de puta. Back off motherfucker," I speak to him in Spanish stepping between them once more.

"Fuck you, pig." Gabriel spits.

"It's a good thing your sister is moving to Seattle; she doesn't belong here with the likes of you—she belongs with me."