once before she was born but alive in her mother’s body, and now outside of the cradling protection of her mother’s body, she was part of an assassination attempt.
This only occurred to her at that moment. She’d lived her entire life without that realization, but it came home to her now while she allowed a nurse to check her gunshot wound.
“The wound was made bigger when the surgeon opened you up, Marie.” The nurse spoke softly, in a way that reassured her patient. The other nurse took notes and wrote down Marie’s vital signs. “The doctor will come down soon and explain things to you better, but for now, you’re safe and we have you in our hands. We won’t let anything else hurt you, okay?”
Marie turned back to look into the woman’s dark-brown eyes and felt an urge to cry as tears welled up in her eyes. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, honey.” The nurse patted her arm, removed her gloves, and sprayed a shot of alcohol foam on her hands. “Your wound looks good and there’s no redness. “Your temperature is good too, no fever. You’re doing really well, considering.”
“I’m glad. Thank you. You’ve really made me feel so much better.” Marie wasn’t sure why, maybe it was the motherly attitude the woman treated her with, but something about the woman calmed her and really had made her feel better.
“I’ll be back later, but there’s a button if you need us,” the other nurse said with a smile that reached her light-gray eyes.
“Thanks,” Marie answered and then settled back into the bed.
A few minutes later a knock came at the door.
“Mrs. Mazza, I’m Detective Boyd. I’ll be investigating your case. How are you feeling?” The 40-something man in a cheap black suit with thin black hair came into the room. He had hazel eyes that looked directly at Marie as if she was a bug he wanted to examine.
That made her bristle a little, but then he smiled. “Sorry, I can be intimidating to people sometimes. I was just trying to get a handle on you. Do you feel like answering a few questions?”
“I guess I have to, don’t I?” She gave him a defeated smile that soon turned to a straight look of strength. She could do this.
“Can you tell me anything about what happened?”
“Where do you want me to start?” Marie asked as she tried to think. She could remember everything up until the car hit that light pole. After that, she couldn’t remember anything.
“Well, can you tell me how many gunmen there were?” The man took out a phone and started to tap into it. The modern-day replacement of the notepad she guessed.
“I was at the stoplight, about to turn the radio on, when I heard a pinging sound. I looked up, saw the men, and I hate to say it, but I panicked. I think I ran the red light.” She looked down at her cracked manicure, one nail was jagged and needed to be filed, but she’d do that later. It didn’t matter right now.
“Don’t worry about that, your life was in danger. You won’t get a ticket for running the red light.” He spoke kindly and with a conspiratorial wink that made her want to laugh.
“Thanks, I hope not. Anyway…” She went on to tell him the rest and tried to remember minute details, such as how many there were and all of that, but there wasn’t really anything to identify the men by and she had no idea why anyone would want to hurt her.
Other than the fact that she was married to Matteo. She kept that to herself when the cop asked her about enemies. She didn’t know who her husband’s enemies were, but she knew it must be one of them. They’d tried to kill her to get to Matteo. That terrified her more than she cared to admit, and she looked away from both men. Could she handle this again, if it came down to it? At the moment, she was afraid she couldn’t, and that thought made it impossible to look at Matteo. What could she do?
25
Matteo’s rage was a burning thing that lived deep beneath his heart as he sat with his wife and watched her answer the detective’s questions. He saw the moment she realized this was his fault and felt something he thought was shame as an ache deep within his guts. He knew who had done this, and he’d already instructed Anton to deal with