Page 225 of Ricardo

I turn toward the building.

An officer moves in front of me. “Sir, you need to stay back.”

I look at him.

For one dangerous second, I consider snapping his neck and stepping over him. Stay back. From Julia’s building. From my son and the woman I love.

Lorenzo steps beside me.

“Ricardo,” he says, low. “Not here.”

I hear him.

Barely.

My phone vibrates again.

Unknown number.

I answer before the second vibration finishes.

“Who the fuck is this?” I snarl.

There is a crackle.

A shuddering breath.

Then—

“Ricardo.”

Julia.

The ground tilts beneath me.

I turn away from the police, from the residents, from the lights flashing over the building, one hand braced against the side of the car because my knees nearly give.

“Julia.”

My voice breaks on her name.

Lorenzo’s head snaps my way.

“Where are you?”

“At the hospital,” she says. Her voice is thin and shaking. “I'm okay, but—”

Her voice cuts off on a sob.

“Julia.”

“It's Dante.”

Everything in me stops cold.

“He’s been shot.” Her breath catches, and I hear the sound she tries to swallow. “He’s in surgery.”

For one second, there is no more city. No more police cars. No more Lorenzo.