Page 53 of Waste of Worth

“He said no cops,” Karen said quieter, “and the hospital will report the attack, which means—”

“Cops, yeah. I got it.”

Dino groaned low when he was shifted again and his back hit something soft. It should have felt good, but the abrupt movement only caused him a hellish pain in his side.

His rib was cracked or broken.

Each breath hurt.

He recognized that second voice, though.

The cook.

Dino wasn’t the jealous type, but he’d noticed that Karen talked to the guy who worked the kitchen a lot. The two were always laughing and going on like there was some secret they shared.

He didn’t own Karen, and he didn’t put titles on their strange relationship.

He didn’t have any right to tell her not to enjoy someone else’s company.

That didn’t mean he had to like it.

He certainly didn’t want her being with someone else. Not while she was with him, anyway. Well, truth be told, he didn’t want her being with someone else even if she wasn’t with him. He just wasn’t ready to deal with those feelings yet.

Although in his current situation, it wasn’t exactly like he could just say something.

Dino could feel his consciousness floating away again as the conversation turned to something far worse. Something he didn’t want Karen involved in at all.

“Is this because of his connections?” the cook asked.

“His connections?”

“Yeah—Dino’s connected, you know. Everybody knows it, we just don’t say it, Karen. You get to see enough shit when you work around Dino for long enough. People in suits, guns sitting on the table, or you overhear things. You learn not to pay attention, or forget what you do see. That’s how it works.”

“Connected?”

“I know you’re not from Chicago and all, but come on. You don’t know what that means?”

“Obviously not,” Karen said shortly. “Stop being an asshole.”

Just before the door slammed—the car door, likely—Dino heard the cook say, “The mob. He’s connected to the mob.”

Fuck.

Not that it mattered in that moment.

Dino passed out again.

The next time Dino woke up, he wasn’t as fucked up as he had been. It took him a few blinks and one failed, shitty attempt to roll over before he remembered exactly what had happened that was causing the pain to ricochet through his entire body.

Letting out a slow breath, Dino forced his weight to his one side, the one that hurt less than the other, and stood up out of the bed. Pressing the heel of his palm to his throbbing temple, helped to relieve a bit of the pain, but barely. If anything, now his face hurt because he’d touched a part of it.

Wonderful.

He looked out the window, noting the light filtering in between the shades and how it danced across the floor.

Morning light, maybe?

Dino couldn’t be sure.