beside the waterfall in the grotto, the peaceful sound an ironic contrast to the ominous conversation.
“Could it have been a set-up?” I asked. “Would Raphael somehow have been able to stage something like that to escape custody and avoid going on trial?”
A few beats of silence passed. “It’s possible. He’s still been able to run the syndicate with his brother Benito from behind bars. But if that’s the case, then who’s he working with? Benito and pretty much the entire Esposito family were either in the courtroom or right outside the courthouse. Who else would have helped him escape?”
“Hired guns?”
He shook his head. “Not unless it was a team. These guys were familiar with each other. And they were professionals. They knew what the hell they were doing. Almost military-like. Which is another reason why I don’t think it was the Niners.”
“Wait, how do you know they were familiar with each other?” I leaned back to look at him. “You say that like you saw them with your own eyes.”
He averted his gaze. “I did.”
I grabbed his chin and forced him to look at me. “Stop evading me. How did you get your injury, Nico?”
His eyes went cold again, that lovely amber darkening. “I got hit with one of their bullets.”
I abruptly yanked my arms back, my eyes bugging out of my skull. “You were shot? Put me down! Pizdets, we need to take care of that!”
His mouth quirked up in a crooked, mysterious grin. “It went in and out. Didn’t hit any major veins or arteries. I already went to the hospital to get it stitched up.”
“You did?”
I couldn’t hide the hurt that laced the question.
His brow furrowed in confusion. “Yeah.”
I stared down at the water, feeling irrationally wounded. “You could have called me. My God, you were shot and I didn’t even know it.”
He tipped my chin up, his eyes searching mine. “You worried about me, legs?”
I swallowed. “Only because I wouldn’t have a sparring opponent if anything happened to you.”
He slowly nodded. “Right.”
“Besides, I just became a wife. I’d like to get used to that before I make myself a widow.”
It was a half-grin this time. “How long have I got before you make that happen?”
I shrugged. “I prefer it to be at a time and place of my choosing.”
“Any particular weapon you’re favoring for my death?”
I squinted up at the sky. “I’ve always thought a stiletto heel to the jugular had a nice, dramatic ring to it. Like something from a twisted soap opera. The type of murder a true femme-fatale would commit.”
He laughed.
I made Nico Rossetti actually laugh.
I might as well have taken a stiletto heel to the heart because the man just slayed me.
He rolled his neck back on his shoulders and winced. Without invitation, my fingers instinctively went to his nape and massaged over that one spot he always seemed to be rubbing.
He stilled as my fingers worked.
Then he let out the longest groan of relief I’d ever heard. “Holy shiiiiiit.”
I chuckled. “Better?”
“You have no idea. Don’t stop.”
The fact that he thought I could was laughable. I didn’t know where it came from, but I was suddenly feeling protective of this man. I wanted to ease his stress, relieve his tension. I wanted to…take care of him.
Part of me was horrified at the realization. But that was quickly forgotten when his expression turned grateful. Had no one ever paid enough attention to him to know when he needed a neck massage? Judging from his reaction, I’d say no.
It took me several minutes to loosen the knot, but he was eventually able to rotate his neck around without trouble.
Then he rewarded me with the most spectacular smile. The first one he’d ever given me with teeth. “Amazing. Your fingers just did what mine are never able to. You sure you’re not a witch?”
I grinned. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”
I couldn’t believe my eyes, but his gaze actually looked adoring. Never thought I’d ever see that emotion from him. Was he drunk?
My eyes fell back on his shoulder, my mood instantly sobering. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
I really didn’t want to think about the possibility of anything happening to him. I was doing my level best to mask how much the idea bothered me. I couldn’t even fathom him not being here tomorrow. Of him in pain.
His face softened. “Yeah. I’m okay, legs.”
“If you got stitches, why has it been bleeding?”
His grin was sheepish. “I may have…punched something and opened