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I kiss around the area gently. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
That’s when rage begins to overtake my relief. “You’re right. I’m going to find out who did this, and they’ll be strung up like the last man who decided to fuck with my family. How about we get you home and get Jenkins set up at Bailey Cedar, where my father was? It’s private and away from this circus.”
“I second that,” Jenkins groans from his bed. “These idiots couldn’t even draw blood without sticking me eight times.”
“Okay, sit tight, and I’ll get transport for you,” I tell him.
Lorenzo walks in a few minutes later as I get on the phone to arrange for Jenkins to be moved. Once we have that sorted, Lorenzo and I walk with Evelyn to check out of the hospital and head home. However, the moment we step into the late evening, that off feeling overwhelms me. My eyes jump from window to window, person to person, car to car, but there’s nothing for me to see.
Lorenzo leaves us to bring the car around when shots ring out. The several pings of bullets hitting objects around us sends everyone scurrying in different directions. I grab Evelyn by the waist and spin her around behind me, making our way to the street where we can duck between parked cars.
Blood is going to spill in these streets, and I’m going to be damn sure it’s not mine or Evelyn’s.
20
EVELYN
“What the fuck is happening? I’m tired of being shot at,” I shout at Alessandro as we take cover between two cars in front of the hospital. “This is the second fucking time today I’ve been in the line of fire.”
Alessandro’s eyes widen as he glares at me. “What do you mean, the second time today?”
“Can we talk about that later? After we get out of this fire fight? Where are the shots coming from?”
Police sirens wail as a dozen officers show up at the bottom of Atlantic Avenue to seal off the area. The hospital goes into lockdown, which means Jenkins won’t be moving any time soon, and we’re still crouching next to a minivan.
“Stay down,” Alessandro says, popping his head up for a second before duckwalking into the street just in time for a car to slam to a halt in front of us. The door swings open as Lorenzo waves us into the car.
Bullets deflect off the car, thankfully, as Alessandro practically yanks me off my feet to shove me into the back seat. He hurries inside, slamming the door behind us, and Lorenzo peels off as bystanders continue to scatter. The police swarm to finish sealing off the area just as we turn down a one-way street.
Instead of driving directly to Alessandro’s home, Lorenzo pulls the car into a parking garage a few blocks away. When he gets out of the car, he scans our surroundings before giving us the signal to get out of the car.
“Ren, get rid of that car and meet me at the house. No way in or out, capiche?” Alessandro says, taking me by the hand.
“Got it, Less.” Lorenzo trots through the parking lot to another car.
“Where’s he going?” I ask him, wondering if we’re going to need the extra hands.
“He’s gotta get rid of the guns in the trunk before NYPD comes around looking for it. The cops aren’t going to press us too much since we were the ones being shot at, and I didn’t shoot back. How are you feeling?” He stops walking to look at me, turning me from side to side to make sure I’m not hit.
I stop him, holding his face in my hands. “I’m fine.”
We get to the dry cleaner building without running into many people on the street. It makes me appreciate how quiet some streets can be in the hustle and bustle of New York City. One code, a hidden panel, another code, a steel door, a trek through a long tunnel to another steel door that needs another code, and suddenly, here we are.
The playroom where I woke up this morning to this shit show of a Monday. We head straight for the kitchen. I start pulling out food, and Alessandro heads to his office to get his favorite bottle of Scotch. Three tumblers are set out as I heat up leftovers and wonder what can possibly happen next.
Lorenzo coming down the stairs is the last thing I expect to see. He smirks as he takes one of the glasses, swigging the amber liquid down while pulling a plate of food in front of him.
“He came in through the roof access,” Alessandro volunteers. “So, you want to tell me exactly what happened today?”
After giving them my itinerary, from visiting Shana, who was attacked, to Peter showing up at my folks’ place with a gun and threatening to kidnap his kids, fury is pluming from Alessandro. "You think Peter has people your father forgot about?” he asks.
I shake my head. “One thing about my dad is he’s thorough. That’s one of the things the Dons of La Familia have in common. When they want someone dead, they die. Peter’s too busy getting his knees broken to send someone after me.”
“What about Montegna?” Lorenzo asks.
Scotch is becoming a treasured flavor in my mouth, easing my stress with the warmth of the potent alcohol settling in my stomach.
