“Dom’s a dickhead,” she whispered. “He started all this and now someone is in the hospital. Someone we don’t even know.”
“Did Dom call you?” I asked, remembering my conversation with Dom last night.
“Yes, like, five times,” she said, now sounding pissy. “I didn’t answer.”
Shoo. At least that crisis was averted.
“Well, don’t answer if he calls again. We have to talk. I’ll call you after we get done at the hospital.”
“I want to know everything. What a date with Ren is like. How Luke was when you got home. Everything. I’ll meet you at Fortnum’s,” she said.
There was something about Sissy calling Luke’s loft “home’ that freaked me out. I didn’t feel like freaking out in Luke’s Porsche with Luke in it (again or ever really). I needed to freak out privately with lots of bags of cookies available.
“Sounds good,” I said instead.
I was about to say good-bye when I heard her say, “Ava?”
“What?”
“Did Luke give you the business?” she asked.
I looked at Luke again. He was driving, calm, casual, practiced, eyes on the road, seemingly oblivious to our conversation.
I looked away. “Yeah,” I answered quietly.
She screamed so loud I had to pull the phone away from my ear. I glanced at Luke when I heard him chuckle.
Fuckity, f**k, f**k, f**k.
* * * * *
I stood outside Bobby’s hospital room facing the wall, forehead resting against it.
Just a minute before, I saw that Bobby was a big guy and looked like a younger Tex, except less crazy (though how would I know if Bobby actually was less crazy, considering he was lying in a hospital bed in a coma). I couldn’t help but feel the blame that Big Bobby was lying in a hospital bed. Still, I vowed sextuple revenge against Dominic Dickhead.
I felt a strong hand slide under my hair and rest at the back of my neck then, “Babe.”
I straightened, turned and looked at Luke but he didn’t take his hand away. Lee had been with Bobby when we got there and now he was standing by Luke but his eyes were on me.
“What’s in that head of yours?” Luke asked quietly.
“I just vowed sextuple revenge against Dickhead Dominic Vincetti,” I told him.
One side of Luke’s lips went up. Lee’s eyes did an amused crinkle.
“And I feel it’s my fault,” I went on.
Luke’s grin faded and so did Lee’s eye-crinkle.
“If I hadn’t walked into your office –” I started to continue.
“Quiet Ava,” Luke said softly.
Lee spoke more words. “Ava, most of the time, my men volunteer for their Rock Chick assignments and do them on their own time. Bobby was on his own time, a favor to Luke. He knew what he was doing and he wanted to do it. It isn’t your fault that some shithead brought you trouble. Don’t take it on your shoulders, it doesn’t belong there. What happened to Bobby belongs on the shoulders of the guy who hit him in the head with a baseball bat.”
Well, that was honest, succinct, to the point and made sense.
Still.