53. Adrian

Iwake up to a throbbing pain in my temple.

Again.

The doctor"s assured me it"s normal and it should go away soon. I"d gotten the gist of how I got shot, even though it all seems foreign to me when I try to remember it. Of course, the most unbelievable thing is that Jimenez is dead...

The man I"d been after my whole life is dead. And I"d helped do it. I"m still waiting for that sense of relief to come, but it doesn"t.

My stay in the hospital has been rather lonely, if I can use that word. I"d had people from work come by and wish me a healthy recovery, but they"d been rather reserved, especially when they"d heard about my memory loss. But that"s not why I"ve felt this aching emptiness...

Somehow, I can"t stop thinking about that woman... The one who"d been there when I"d first woken up. It"s been three days now, and she"s all I can see when I close my eyes.

Her plump lips... The way she"d looked at me.

I have to wonder if we were involved before in some capacity. She seemed disappointed when I didn't recognize her. Although…maybe my brain didn"t recognize her, but my body sure did. I"d almost asked the doctor if being constantly hard was a side effect of my brain injury. Otherwise, I can"t explain this. I just have to picture her face and...

I sigh.

It"s happened again.

Making sure there"s no one around, I slip my hand into my blue hospital pants and grab my cock, moving my hand from base to tip and picturing her pouty mouth. A groan escapes my lips as I increase my movements, focusing on that soft kiss she"d laid on my forehead.

I recall her breath on my skin... My own breathing picks up.

I swipe the moisture seeping from the head of my cock and use it as lubricant, imagining it"s her mouth swallowing me whole. One pump...two pumps and I gasp, coming all over my stomach. My vision goes white as I ride the wave of pleasure.

Bianca...

Her name is Bianca.

Small snippets burst inside my head.

"Fuck!" I groan aloud, moving out of my bed and towards the bathroom.

I try to clean myself up. Recurring flashes of pain make me stumble, and I grab onto the sink to stabilize myself.

I take a deep breath.

Bianca...

More images appear.

Our wedding. Us at home, making love. Her betrayal. She lied to me...

Shocked, I back into the wall and collapse on the floor, gasping for air.

I remember...

Seconds pass by and the images trickle into my mind unbidden.

It's like a flash. One moment I'm doubting everything about my life, the next, I'm able to see everything with astounding certainty.

I remember…everything.

Including Marcel double crossing me and Jimenez revealing he was my father.

I blink twice, somehow burying that in the back of my mind, focusing on only one thing.

Bianca...

Where is she?

With great difficulty, I get up and ring one of the nurses, asking her to bring me my cell phone. She"s reluctant at first, but eventually complies. She hands me my phone and leaves.

I immediately dial Bianca"s number, but it doesn"t go through, saying that the number"s been disconnected.

What?

Did something happen to her? Knowing Bianca, there"s absolutely no way she"d leave me here on my own.So where is she?

Then I remember something else.

Jimenez saying he poisoned her. Jimenez dying, and with him dying any information regarding an antidote.

No, that"s not possible. How much time has passed?

I frown, thinking back to what the doctor told me. A couple of weeks? Maybe more? What if...

No, no. I shake my head vigorously at the thought. I refuse to believe something might have happened to her.

But then why did she lie to me? Why did she say she was just a coworker, and then left me?

I"m almost hyperventilating, my thoughts straying into dangerous territory. I don"t even want to think that she might have left me to...

Die.

No, she"s all right. She has to be. Maybe she"s only giving me some space.

Yes, that must be it. Although it"s unusually thoughtful and nice of her—and entirely antithetic to the Bianca I know—that must be it.

Just to confirm what I already know to be true, I call the only person who"d know where she is.

Vlad.

He"ll just confirm my suspicions. She"s probably at home with Mally.

"Hastings..." Vlad"s voice is dripping with amusement as he answers.

"Where is she?" My tone is harsher than I would have liked.

"My, but you recovered faster than I would have expected. If only B knew." He chuckles, and I grit my teeth. It"s not going to be easy to get anything from him, is it?

"Tell me, where is she?" I repeat.

"How much do you remember?"

"Enough."

"Interesting... I"ll be there soon." He says and hangs up.

What?

I don"t even get to be mad because the doctor comes in with his army of nurses and they start asking me questions, taking my vitals and doing all sorts of things. I"m only halfway listening to what they are saying, too preoccupied with Bianca"s whereabouts.

They leave and I retrieve my phone and start calling Vlad again. And again.

"Chill, Hastings, will you?" Vlad is in the doorway, holding up his phone and dangling it around as it rings.

He rolls his eyes at me and comes closer.

"You look almost human," he says, scrutinizing my bandage. I don"t want to question what he means by that, so I just go straight to the point.

"Where is she?"

Vlad"s expression is no longer bright. He leans back and regards me in a serious manner.

"She left you," he simply states and I frown. "Who would have thought she had it in her, right?" His mouth curls up in an attempt to smile, but it"s not quite there.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

He moves again, and starts to pace around the room. I"d forgotten about Vlad and his inability to stay still.

"She thought you"d never remember, so she decided to spare you the unpleasant details of Jimenez"s death. That fool." He shakes his head. "She"s too impulsive for her own good. I don"t know how she equated you not remembering immediately after an obvious brain injury, to you permanently not remembering... But I digress. You know Bianca. Once she gets something in that brain of hers, granted, coke-free now, there"s no stopping her."

"So she just up and left? And you didn"t stop her?"

"Why would I? I have to say, though, I"m impressed by her noble—admittedly stupid—actions. Who would have thought her capable of that, right?" He muses, and I"m getting impatient.

"So where is she?"

"She"s in Moscow. I sent her to work for an acquaintance."

"So... She"s fine?" I hesitate, trying to steel myself for the answer.

"Of course. Turns out Jimenez was bluffing."

I sigh in relief.

"So what are you going to do now?" Vlad asks as he settles in front of my bed.

"Go after her. After my doctor clears me..." I add reluctantly add.

"Hmm... You might want to reconsider."

"What do you mean?"

"Word"s out on the streets about Jimenez"s heir. You"ll be targeted. Many people are trying to consolidate power right now, and you"re just the thorn they can"t wait to get rid of," he chuckles.

I frown.

"So what do you propose I do? Fake my own death?" I add rather ironically. But the look Vlad gives me tells me he doesn"t think so.

"Indeed. You do just that. Might work."

"You"re kidding."

"Nope. In fact, I should have thought of that. Yes..." He nods, more to himself. "That might be your best bet. Otherwise, you"ll have who knows how many cartels after you, and possibly the Irish too."

I"m stunned. I hadn"t had the time to think about the repercussions of Jimenez"s death, or the fact that we were related. But Vlad does make sense... Chances are, the moment I"m out the hospital I"ll be a hunted man, regardless of my position in NYPD, or maybe even because of it.

"I guess you"re right," I admit, and Vlad hufs.

"Of course I"m right. I"m always right."

His hand goes to the pocket of his blazer and he removes a pack of gum, popping some into his mouth. Why do I feel like I"ve seen this exact scene too many times before?

"I"ll even help you," he says while chewing.

"Gee, thanks." I add dryly.

Vlad turns to leave.

"Although... One more thing." He turns slightly. "Cut Marcello some slack... Don"t shut him out until you"ve heard his side of the story."

I raise a brow at him.

"Really? That"s what you have to say? When you"ve known all along who he was?"

"My relationship with Marcello is complicated at best. But he isn"t like me. And I know he valued your friendship."

"How? By betraying me?"

Vlad pauses a little, his eyes narrowing a little.

"Things are rarely as they seem Hastings. Just...listen to him. If anyone deserves a second chance, it"s Marcello." He shakes his head. "He"s a wretched being, that man. Even for my standards."

"That"s assuming he will even try to explain why he did." I grunt.

"He might. It really isn"t my place to say anything but..." He takes a deep breath. "The things Marcel has lived... It"s a wonder he is who he is today."

"Fine..." I grumble, not wanting to delve deeper into this.

Vlad gives me a mock salute and leaves.

It"s only been hours since I"ve recovered my memories, so I can"t say I"ve had the time to ponder the reasons behind Marcel"s betrayal.

Marcello, I correct myself.

I shake my head at the thought. He didn't just betray me. He wasn"t even who I thought he was.

Marcello Lastra. The son of a mobster. A mobster himself for all I knew.

I let out a sarcastic laugh.

Why does this seem so familiar?

It feels like only a while ago I went through the same thing with Bianca.

They"d both hidden who they really were and lied to me. And yet, I"d forgiven Bianca...

But she didn"t betray you, my inner voice tells me.

Yeah, there is a slight difference between Bianca"s treachery and Marcel"s. Bianca had never meant me harm. In fact, she"d done everything in her power to protect me, even when it meant putting herself in dangerous situations.

Marcel... He knew. He knew everything, damn it!

He knew how hard I"d searched for JImenez and how much I"d wanted to make him pay for what I thought he had done to my parents. And yet, he"d so easily sold me to his brother.

What had Valentino Lastra said? That Marcel owed him a debt?

Was that debt more important than our friendship?

I remember the early days of our acquaintance, and how we"d eventually bonded over the fact that we were both extremely private people as well as mildly taciturn - Marcel more so than me. In the years that I"d known him, he"d started to become more open, even though some things simply stuck.

Like his phobia of touch.

That brings me to a halt.

Why had I never wondered? Why had I never asked?

The more I think about it, the more ashamed I am at myself for being such a lousy friend.

He hadn"t told me and I hadn"t pried. But maybe I should have?

I"d often thought about how private Marcel was about certain things, like his personal life, or day to day activities. If it wasn"t work-related, or more so, Jimenez related, we rarely saw each other.

Had I been blind this whole time? Blind to what was happening to him when no one was watching?

I remember his face when his brother had revealed everything. He"d been shameful and remorseful.

It might be that...

I shake my head, now more confused than ever.

In one regard, though, Vlad is right. I"ll listen to him, if he does in fact want to tell me, and then I"ll think about it.

The following day, the doctor comes for another check-up and given that I"ve now remembered everything, he tells me I can get discharged in a couple of days.

Vlad, though, has proven to be even more unpredictable, as he"s started forwarding me messages from Bianca, about her settling in and mundane stuff about her life in Russia.

I have to say. Those are probably the highlight of my day, and I"ve started looking forward to each and every one of them.

I miss her.

I didn"t think it was possible to miss someone so much.

But I know there are some things I have to take care of before joining her. With the first item on the list being faking my death.

It"s my last day at the hospital when someone knocks lightly at the door. I"d been packing up everything and was already looking forward to some not so bland food - considering I"d been eating mostly porridge.

"Come in," I say, and my eyebrows go up when I see who it is.

Marcel.

His face is blank as he comes inside the room and closes the door.

"I see you"ve spoken to Vlad?" I ask, observing him closely.

He shrugs, and he grabs the chair by the door and places it in front of me.

"What are you doing here, Marcel?" I ask, seeing that he"s not inclined to start the conversation.

"I"m not here to ask for forgiveness." He finally starts, lifting his eyes to look at me.

"Then why are you here?"

"I thought you deserve to know why I did what I did. I won"t excuse my behavior in any way... But I want you to know why I had to help my brother." He takes a deep breath. "It"s something that I haven"t told anyone before, and you may end up hating me even more after." He laughs nervously.

"So tell me." I prompt him. I honestly doubt there"s anything that could make me see what had happened with different eyes, but I"m willing to listen to him.

"I guess I should start with who my father was..."

***

Iwas wrong. The entire time Marcel told me his story I sat there listening, not even moving a finger.

It had all been...too much.

At some point I had to wonder if he was describing a horror movie. Surely there weren"t any people like that in the world. And yet, the more he talked, the more I had to calm myself, not show any reaction.

It was his story... and I could see it affected him reliving it like this.

Then he finally mentioned how his phobia of touch had developed. How he"d made the mistake of showing weakness. And then everything had spiraled so out of control he"d had to make multiple deals with the devil in order to keep everyone he loved safe.

When he was finished, I could only stare at him.

"So now you know... I never wanted to betray you. Hell, you were probably my only genuine friend. But I had to. I owed it to my brother. And what he did to me..." He shakes his head.

"I"m sorry." That"s all that comes out of my mouth. What else can I say, really?

"I understand if you won"t forgive me. But I wanted you to have some closure. And more than anything, I wanted to let you know that I do value you as a friend."

He stands up to leave.

"I"m sorry." He says once more, before closing the door behind him.

I don't know how to react to what he just dumped on me. How does someone even process that?

But I suppose there will be time for that later.

For now, I must plan how to get my wife back.