Hitman vs Hitman - L.A. Witt Page 0,92

was probably security showing up to escort him on his walk. This would be fun. How was he supposed to move when he was stitched up and—

“I will have my lawyers in your captain’s office before the end of the day,” came a loud snarl filled with entitlement and privilege. “So help me, I will own every last one of your badges. Do you hear me?”

Ricardo blinked a few times. “August?”

“Mr. Mason, we apologize, but—”

“Apologize?” August spat. “I tell you this man saved my life, and you’re treating him like a goddamned criminal, and you’re going to apologize? Fuck you, fuck your apology, and—” His tone abruptly changed to something much friendlier. “Excuse me, can I please see him? I need to make sure these brutes haven’t been—oh, thank you. You’re a doll.” His voice came closer. “This one? Perfect.”

And then he swept into the room, coiffed and polished and dressed head-to-toe in something tailored and expensive, and he broke into an enormous smile. “Well, well, well—look who’s awake!”

Ricardo chuckled, even though it hurt like hell. Called it.

August came into the room, followed by a parade of cops, nurses, and a couple of suits who were probably hospital administrators, every one of them looking utterly confused and seriously nervous.

“How are you feeling?” August came closer, brow creased with concern. “They said the surgery went well, but they couldn’t give me details. Are you—” He glanced down and did a double take, then did one of those sharp huffs he did so well and turned a glare on his reluctant entourage. “You handcuffed him to the bed? Did he even consent to that? Did you give him a safeword?” His head snapped toward Ricardo. “Did they give you a safeword? What’s your safeword?”

The pain was literally the only thing keeping Ricardo from laughing.

“Uh.” A cop cleared his throat. “Listen, it’s protocol for—”

“Fuck your protocol!” August pointed a long finger at the cuff. “Get this thing off him right now. I… You know what? Fuck this.” He stepped back and pulled out his phone. “I’m calling my lawyer.”

Those four words were like a magical incantation. Instantly, everyone in the room was in action—administrators and cops trying to placate August. A sheepish cop reaching across Ricardo and uncuffing him as he muttered apologies. August was talking fast and gesticulating wildly, and the administrators looked fucking terrified. One nurse squeezed past the group to check Ricardo’s monitors, but she didn’t say a word or even look at him. Then she and the other nurses slipped out.

One of the administrators seemed to be making progress because August had pocketed his phone without calling his lawyer.

“Mr. Mason, we’ll have this straightened out shortly.” The man made a placating gesture. “If you’ll stay here with Mr. Torralba for just a few minutes, we’ll get it taken care of.”

“You do that,” August said in his most entitled tone as he stalked toward Ricardo’s bedside again. As everyone started filing out of the room, he muttered, “Rude.”

Ricardo finally allowed himself a snort of amusement. “What the fuck did you just do?”

August turned to him, a self-congratulatory smile on his face. “Just putting the fear of God into everyone so they’ll let you out of here.”

Ricardo swallowed. “But… I mean…”

August laced his fingers between Ricardo’s, and his tone and expression both turned serious. Speaking quietly, he said, “There was no way we were flying under the radar dropping off a victim of a gunshot wound. So my sister and I told everyone that I’d been kidnapped and that you had been hired by my family to rescue me after the kidnappers had warned my parents against contacting law enforcement.” He shrugged with just a hint of arrogance. “It’s happened enough times, it’s not like they’d be shocked, and with what happened to my house recently, well…”

Ricardo blinked. “But they’re going to have me on at least a dozen weapons charges based on what was in my vest and pockets. I’m—”

“Bitch, please.” August rolled his eyes. “Do not insult my intelligence. I might be crazy enough to run into an emergency room, covered in blood and sobbing my eyes out that the man who tried to rescue me needs help or he’s going to die, but I’m not stupid. We took all that shit off you before we got to the hospital.” He paused. “I was a bit worried my sister was going to stab you with that one knife, though.”

“Stab me? Why?”

“Because you threw up all over her lap.” He