Chapter 26

I’ve never been more terrified than I am right now. Fear isn’t something I’m accustomed to feeling, and it’s not fear for myself. It’s for her. I don’t know where the fuck she is, and that’s scaring the shit out of me.

She’s reading my messages but hasn’t replied. I thought she just needed the night, that she’d be here this morning when I woke up. She wasn’t, and I’m done giving her space. I can’t afford to give it to her. Because I know if I do, I’ll lose her for good. She’ll come to her senses and realize I’m not good enough for her.

Fuck that. I’m not going to let that happen.

I grab my phone off the table next to me. I don’t know anyone in this damn city besides my new teammates and I don’t know them a whole lot either. Desperate times call for desperate measures, though, and that’s why I press the green dial button next to his name.

“You still breathing?” Grayson asks as way of answering.

“I need a ride. Can you come get me?”

“Be there in twenty,” he says, no questions asked. Just that he’ll be here.

“I’ll be out front.”

“You breaking out, O’Neil?”

“Something like that.” I pull myself up off the bed, and it’s then that I notice I’m still wearing a fucking hospital gown. “I’m gonna need some clothes too,” I add.

“Got it,” he says before disconnecting the call.

My parents come into the room just as I sweep my legs over the edge of the mattress. “What are you doing?” Mom asks.

“I need to get out of here,” I tell her.

“You can’t. Travis, you were shot.”

“I’ve had worse injuries in youth league. I’m fine.” It’s a lie. My side hurts like a motherfucker, but I’m choosing to ride out the pain. Nothing is going to stop me from getting to Lili.

“Travis, you should lie down. Let me get the doctor,” my father says.

“Dad, I need to go.” I give him a pleading look.

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Fine. Come on,” he says as he wraps an arm around my waist and guides me to my feet.

“I can’t believe you’re just going to help him.” Mom crosses her arms over her chest and pins my father with a glare.

“We either help him or he’ll do it himself. It’s your fault he’s so damn stubborn, you know. The kid didn’t get that trait from me,” Dad says with a chuckle before turning back my way. “So, where exactly are we going?”

“Grayson is gonna pick me up out front. You and Mom should go to my place. There’s not a lot there. We haven’t furnished it yet but feel free to make yourselves at home. I can have whatever you need delivered,” I tell him.

“You’re aware you’re wearing a dress, right?” Dad questions as we slowly shuffle over to the door.

“It’s a hospital gown, not a dress, and I’m well aware,” I grunt.

“Travis O’Neil, I just want you to know that I am fully against this plan of yours. Whatever it is. And when you make your injury worse, I’m going to be the one to say I told you so,” Mom grumbles while holding the door open.

“Thanks, Mom. I promise. I really am fine.” I’ll be better once I get my eyes on Lili, but I don’t say that part aloud.

By the time I make it to the front of the hospital, Grayson is leaning against his car waiting for me. He opens the passenger side door. “If you bleed on my leather, you’re paying for the detail,” he says as I fall into the seat.

“Worth it,” I grunt as a sharp pain shoots through my body.

He jumps behind the wheel before glancing in my direction. “Where we going?”

“Take me to wherever the fuck Lili is,” I tell him.

“Fuck. How did I know that’s what you were going to say?” He shakes his head as his foot slams down on the accelerator. “She doesn’t want to see you, you know.”

“Yes, she does.” I don’t believe for an instant that Lili wants to leave me. If I did, I’d probably let her go.

Actually, no, I fucking wouldn’t.

“It’s your funeral.” Grayson shrugs as he turns out of the parking lot.

***

My knuckles have barely made contact when the door is pulled open and an angry-looking Italian guy in a black suit glares at me. I don’t wait for him to say anything as I step into the house.

“Lili, where are you?” I call out. And before I know it, my body is slammed up against the closest wall. My arm twisted behind my back.

“Who the fuck are you?” the guy asks. When I peer over my shoulder, I notice five more men just like him all pointing guns at my head.

“Told you… your funeral.” Grayson laughs from the doorway.

“Get the fuck off me,” I growl.

“Let him go.” A commanding tone has me turning my head before my eyes connect with Lili’s father.

“Fuck,” I hiss out while clutching my side.

“Bullet wounds hurt like a bitch, huh?” Mr. Valentino says. “What are you doing here?”

“Where’s Lili? I need to talk to her.”

“If she wanted to see you, she would.” Mr. Valentino folds his arms over his chest as he turns his glare on Gray. “Why the fuck did you bring him here?”

“He asked me to.” Grayson shrugs his shoulders.

“Lili!” I call out again. Louder this time.

“Jesus-fucking-Christ, will you give the yelling a break?” Alessandro grunts from the stairs.

She’s up there. I start to head in that direction when a hand lands on my chest. Stopping me. I look down. If the guy wasn’t her brother and I didn’t currently have a shit-ton of stitches in my body, I’d rip that fucking hand from his arm.

“I just want to talk to her,” I tell him.

“She doesn’t want to see you,” Alessandro says.

“That’s bullshit. She’s running scared. It has nothing to do with her wanting to see me or not.”

“You should tell them,” Grayson hums from behind me.

I turn back to glare at him. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Just saying. It’d make this a lot fucking easier if you did.”

“Tell us what?” Mr. Valentino asks, but it’s more like a command than a question.

I look around the room. There are a lot of ears, a lot of open spaces too. “Not here.”

“This way.” He turns down the hall without waiting for a reply.

I follow Alessandro into an office. Grayson strolls in behind me. I could be walking into a trap here. I have no idea who had me shot. Theoretically, Lili’s father makes sense. But I don’t see him doing that to her, no matter how much he might want to.

“What’s going on?” Mr. Valentino asks while leaning against the desk, his hands shoved into the pockets of his trousers.

“Before I was shot, the guy said: this is for Liliana.”

Mr. Valentino’s spine noticeably straightens. “Come again?”

“What the fuck?” Alessandro yells.

“I didn’t exactly get to ask him questions,” I remind them.

“He said those exact words?” Mr. Valentino attempts to clarify.

“Yes.” I nod. “You can’t tell her, though. She already thinks this is her fault. I will not have her blaming herself more than she is. I need her to believe that this had nothing to do with her.”

Mr. Valentino and Alessandro have what sounds to be a heated conversation in Italian before the latter storms out of the room.

“Can I see her?”

Mr. Valentino looks at me for a long minute. “If you can make it up the stairs. Second door on your left,” he grunts as he walks around the desk, picks up his phone, and brings it to his ear.

“Thank you.”