softly. I place my hand to the back of his head. He’s burning up, but he’s not sweating. His skin is all sticky.
“Water,” I say. When nobody responds, I yell, “Get me some fucking water! And a wet towel! And back up! Before I back you up!”
They just keep staring. I’m about to jump to my feet and give them a piece of my mind—maybe more than a piece—when this giant presence appears above me. I feel him before I see him. He does not raise his voice, but somehow it carries.
“Everybody take exactly fifteen steps back,” Angelo says. “Anyone who doesn’t listen will be barred from all of my clubs for the rest of fucking eternity. Got it? Good.” He pauses, and then points at a bystander. “Go get me a bottle of water and a wet towel.” His voice makes it clear that he will accept nothing but obedience. In spite of everything that’s happening, it makes me shiver.
Angelo kneels down next to me, his dark eyes taking in the scene. We exchange a glance. His face is tight. I can’t read him. He doesn’t seem like the same carefree Angelo I’ve known, or thought I’ve known, these past few days. It’s like he’s sort of encased himself in armor.
“Who is he?” he asks gravely.
“Wyatt. My little brother.”
“Oh.”
I snap, “Do you always let underage kids drink at your clubs?”
Angelo sighs. “No, we do not. He must’ve used a fake ID.”
“Then you need to do a better job checking!” I yell, and then turn to Wyatt, stroking his face. He’s frowning, whispering softly. I lean down but I can’t make out what he’s saying; he’s so dehydrated. “You’re lucky I don’t call the cops.”
“You should be careful,” Angelo warns, bringing his face close to mine. He speaks right into my ear. His breath is hot and, fuck, even now I like it. Even now. How is that possible? What is wrong with me?
“Careful?”
“I am not a man you want to threaten.”
“Just … just leave me alone,” I breathe, wondering why he’s being like this. But then, what is he being like? Maybe this is just the normal Angelo. I don’t even know him. He’s just a stranger. There’s this darkness in his eyes, almost a hint of violence, like a wild animal who was stopped just before he made the kill. Like he’s still hungry for a hunt. “I need to help my brother.” I lean down. “Hey, Einstein, I’m getting you some water, okay? Can you drink?”
He nods. “So f-fucking thirsty, sis,” he wheezes.
Someone hands me the bottle of water. I tip some into Wyatt’s mouth. He sputters more than he swallows, but he manages to drink some.
“This will just wet his lips and tongue and throat,” I say, mostly to myself. “He needs intravenous rehydration. Where the fuck is the ambulance? Betty wouldn’t take this long.”
Angelo says nothing. He kneels at my side, staring at me. I don’t look back.
“Almost here, Einstein,” I whisper, stroking Wyatt’s hair. I see Angelo looking, a question in his eyes. Distantly, I’m aware of myself explaining, “My mom used to call him that. He’s really good at math. He used to win competitions all the time growing up.”
Angelo nods. Still, he says nothing.
The EMTs make their way through the crowd. It’s Rose and Jack; they nod to me as they approach. Jack gives Ricky a withering look and whispers something in his ear. Moments later, Ricky is gone.
“Told him to get outta here before I let the bosses know,” Jack whispers to me. He’s a solid fifty-something man, a veteran of the game. “All right, bud, how’s it going, huh? Rough night? I know it’s hard, Dani, but you’ve gotta give us some room to work here.”
I realize I’m leaning over him, the EMT version of a back-seat driver.
“Oh sure,” I say softly, standing and backing up …
Right into the solid brick wall that is Angelo’s chest. I feel his heartbeat, going bang-bang-bang like knocking on a door.
I spin in place. “Why are you sneaking up on me?”
He pauses and stares at me for one long, uncomfortable moment before he answers. “Because you’re perfect, Dani.”
There’s a subtext to the comment. It’s not his normal over-the-top playboy routine. It’s like I’m being assessed at auction.
“Perfect for what?” I whisper, suddenly fearful of him and what he might do to me, despite the people milling around us on all sides.
He glances over my shoulder at Wyatt being tended to. “We can agree that