Deep (Pagano Family #4)(20)
“Who told Tina?”
“I sent Nose over. I called while he was there.” It wasn’t the first time he’d had to deliver that kind of news to a wife.
“All right.” Ben struggled to his feet, and Nick stood, too. “I’m going to sit with Brian’s mother. What is her name?”
“Pauline.”
“Pauline, yes. We’ll talk more about the girl. For now, keep her safe.”
“I will, Uncle.” They embraced, and Ben went off with Bobbo toward the elevators.
oOo
Nick knew most of the staff at St. Gabriel’s Hospital, in Quiet Cove, and they knew him. Here in this huge medical center in Providence, though, he was much more anonymous, and most of the staff, dealing with the bombing casualties, were unimpressed. But one nurse knew who he was and knew well what side she should keep him on. He’d identified her quickly and exploited her respect so that he had free access to Beverly.
Shit. He didn’t even know her last name. He figured one of their digital intel specialists had logged it somewhere; they kept basic track of the administration’s neighbors. He’d have to find it out soon.
Paige—the smart nurse—called him back when Beverly was out of X-ray and gave him an update on her condition. She was in a lot of pain, but not badly hurt. Bruised ribs, a mild concussion, and some pretty bad scrapes, especially her cheek and elbow. Nothing was broken, though, and nothing required stitches. He thanked her and went back to Beverly’s little room.
She was propped up on the gurney, a white bandage over her right cheek and another around her right elbow. Her hair was loose over her shoulders. Her eyes were closed, her breathing shallow.
“Bella.” Interesting how easily an endearment came to his lips. It wasn’t a habit of his, calling people by something other than their name or title, other than a casual ‘coz’ or ‘bro.’ When he’d called her bella, all unthinking, at Neon, her eyes had lit up beautifully and her smiling face had nearly glowed. He’d enjoyed having that effect on her.
And then she’d kissed him. It was rarely the case that a woman made the first sexual contact with him. And now, apparently, he was beginning to think of her by that endearment.
She opened her eyes, but there was no smile for him this time. “I don’t know where my purse is. I need my phone. I need to call Chris. I need a friend.” Her voice was weak, supported only by her panting breaths.
Nick had no idea where her purse was. He’d noticed it, a little turquoise beaded thing with a strap she’d worn on her wrist. It had matched her shoes and the turquoise earrings in her ears.
He went to the gurney and put his hand on her arm. She flinched, and he didn’t like that at all. “You have a friend. I’m here. I’m going to take care of you.”
“Why? How are you a friend? Because you were going to f*ck me?”
Paige had told him that her pain was high, and they were being conservative with meds, giving her only Tylenol with codeine, because they wanted to keep her alert and ambulatory so they could send her home. Nick had experience with bruised and broken ribs, so he knew how bad the pain could be. Still, he hated the deflated, defensive, almost whining tone in her voice. What had him caught was her spark, and the events of the night had dimmed that.
He smiled, hoping to ignite her a little. “I think future tense is more appropriate than past. I’m still going to f*ck you. I’ll give you a minute to feel better, though.”
She only blinked. “Are you a friend?”
“I am. And I’m going to get you out of here and take care of you. You’ll get better drugs for home.”
“I want to go home. I’d like a ride, since I can’t find my phone and I don’t know anybody’s numbers. But you don’t have to take care of me. I’m okay.”
“I do, bella. I will.”
“Don’t call me that. I’m Bev. And I don’t want you to take care of me.”
He didn’t like ‘Bev.’ It sounded like some kind of mechanical noise. But he really liked ‘Beverly,’ the old-fashioned lilt, the way his tongue furled and unfurled over the syllables. And he’d been growing quickly fond of calling her bella—and was surprised to find his feelings hurt by her rejection of it.
“I’m afraid, Beverly, that we don’t have a choice. People took photos outside the club. You and I are already on the internet, probably going viral as we speak. You are connected to me now. Until we figure out who did this and resolve the situation, you need to stay close to me to be safe.”
“Being close to you is what made me unsafe.”
It was a different kind of light, but he was glad to see anger in her eyes. So much better than that defeated, wet puppy look she’d had. “I think you knew who I was before you sat at my side, Beverly.”
She took a deeper breath, and winced hard, groaning. He squeezed her hand, and she glared down at his hand on hers. “So…what? I’m a hostage or something? I can’t even go to my own apartment, which is thirty feet from yours?”
“You’re not a hostage. But I’m not asking, either. You’ll stay with me. I have a spare bedroom. It’s very nice. And anything you need from your place will be right down the hall. There will be people you can send to fetch anything. Think of it as being pampered.”