forced the oxygen mask over his face. He inhaled deeply, taking it in, as they checked his vitals, covering him with a thermal blanket when he shivered.
"Mr. Galante," a voice chimed in. "Fancy seeing you here."
Dante pulled the mask away, glaring at the redheaded monstrosity in front of him. "Detective Dick, didn't know fires were your jurisdiction."
"They're not, but certain names spark automatic calls to the division. You know how it is."
Yeah, Dante knew. Even a ticket for public intoxication would send the detective straight to him. A fire at a place owned by an Amaro would be enough for the snakes to slither in.
"Look, I know nothing, so don't waste your breath asking questions. I saw the fire from the apartment window so I came down."
"Wrong place, wrong time?"
"Considering the circumstances, I'd say my timing was perfect."
"True." The detective watched as they loaded Johnny Amaro into the back of an ambulance, lights flashing and sirens wailing as it sped off. "And you saw the fire from an apartment window? Which apartment?"
"I don't think that's any of your goddamn business."
"It is," he said, "if that's part of your alibi."
"My alibi? You think I did this?" Dante coughed. "Are you fucking stupid?"
"There's no need to speak that way."
"I just pulled a bleeding man from a burning building, I've got soot in my goddamn lungs, and you're suggesting I might've been the one to cause it? That I might've shot him and set fire to the place? That's the definition of fucking stupid."
His eyebrows rose. "How do you know he was shot?"
"There are expended shells on the sidewalk. He had a hole in his chest. Seriously, Detective, do I have to do your fucking job for you? It doesn't take a genius to put those pieces together. Maybe if you were better at investigating, this shit wouldn't keep happening around here."
Dante slipped the oxygen mask back on, done with that conversation. He shouldn't have entertained it to begin with. He closed his eyes and lowering his head, trying to fucking breathe, until his name was shouted from down the street. "Dante!"
Gabriella ran right for him, wearing a t-shirt and tiny shorts with no shoes on, her bare feet slapping against the frozen pavement. She skirted around the barrier, slipping under the yellow caution tape. Officers tried to stop her, shouting for her to get back, but she ignored them.
Jesus, she's going to get tased.
Yanking the mask off, Dante tossed it aside and pushed away from the ambulance, heading for her. The officers backed off, letting her continue, and she slammed right into him, wrapping her arms around him, nearly knocking him on his ass. He winced, staggering, stroking her hair. She was shaking. "I told you to stay in the apartment."
"And I told you to be careful!" She pulled away, looking him over, a cloud of breath surrounding her as she damn near hyperventilated. "What happened? Where's your shirt? Why are you burnt?"
"Long story," he said. "I'm fine."
As if to accentuate that point, he hacked yet again, grasping his chest, coughing so violently his vision dimmed. It hurt.
"You're not fine." Gabriella forced his face up, studying it, before grabbing his arm and lifting. "You're suffering from smoke inhalation, and this? This is a second-degree burn. You need to raise it up to keep the swelling down. And you need oxygen."
"I was getting some," he said, motioning to the ambulance, "until you decided to defy law enforcement and burst onto a crime scene."
"A crime scene?" Her eyes darted to the burning building. The firefighters were busy putting the flames out, salvaging whatever might remain. "Casato? It wasn't open, right? So nobody was inside, right?" She turned to him, eyes wide. "Right?"
"Amaro was there."
"Which Amaro?"
"Johnny."
"Oh God." Gabriella grasped her messy hair as she paced in circles, teeth chattering. "Uncle Johnny? Did he…? Is he…?"
Dante lowered his arm. "I pulled him out."
"You what? Are you crazy?"
"I couldn't just stand around," Dante said, "not knowing he was in there."
"Was he okay?"
"He was alive."
"Did he get burned?"
"A bit, but more concerning is the bullet he took to the chest."
Gabriella stared at him, her mouth agape, tears in her eyes. Dante pulled her back to him, kissing her temple, before leading her past the barrier, away from the chaos, out of the damn cold. She was in too much shock to argue, saying not a word the whole way back to the apartment. Once inside, Dante headed for the bathroom and turned on the cool water, wincing when