The Woman at the Docks - Jessica Gadziala Page 0,82

smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I guess we owe you that," he agreed. "Are you okay? How's your arm? It looks gnarly."

"Twelve stitches. It was a graze. I'm fine. I don't feel anything."

'Yet," he told me. "You're still in shock. And worried about Luca. Once you know he's okay, it is going to hurt like a motherfucker."

"Speaking from experience?"

'Yes."

Eventually, we moved to a park bench, sitting there for hours, watching the sun start to lace its fingers across the sky, Lucky getting the occasional update of the He's still in surgery variety.

Around five a.m., Bishop came by, handing us each coffee before walking away again.

"Is he just going to be here now? Until Luca gets up?"

"Likely for a while after too. When Uncle Ant brings in Blake, he is a fixture until he is sure the whole thing is over."

"That's not how lawyers work though."

"It is when you pay them the kind of retainer that we do," he told me grimacing at the coffee as he took a sip.

"He seems young to be Antony's lawyer."

"He's in his thirties. But Bishop Blake, the senior, was the family attorney for many years first. He handed it off to his son when he retired. If you are still worried about the police on this, don't be. Nothing will ever stick even if they tried to throw something at you."

"I shot my sister last night," I told him, watching as several things crossed his face. Concern, anger, acceptance.

"You did what you had to do to survive. I know this is going to fuck with you for a while, but remember that. If you didn't act when you did, Luca would be dead. And so would you. And that monster of a woman would be walking free."

She was a monster, too.

There was no denying it.

She'd been a rotten apple for years, and maybe I had just kept painting over the ugly bits because that was what you did when you loved someone. But eventually, all the rot took over completely. And there was no more denying its existence.

Lucky's phone dinged in his hand, drawing his attention there, and my attention to him, trying to gauge his reaction.

"He's out," he said, relief washing through his body in a wave, making me see how tense he had been all night alongside me. "He made it, babe," he added, giving me a weak smile. "The doctor said he is going to be fine. He's still out, though. They will let us know when he wakes up. Do you want to go home for a bit?" he asked. "Get cleaned up? Get some food?"

"No. I'm not going anywhere. Not until I get to see Luca."

And I didn't.

Not for the six hours it took for Luca to finally wake up fully from the anesthesia and move to intensive care.

Not for the long hours after that where they were making sure he was well enough to move to a normal floor.

"What is it?" I asked when his phone dinged again.

"Uncle Ant did some bribing. They're going to let you up," he told me, leading me back toward the hospital, stopping outside the doors when Bishop moved out from behind a pillar, shrugging out of his jacket, handing it out to me.

"The blood," he explained.

Right.

I probably should have taken Lucky's advice and gone back to the apartment to clean up first, but I couldn't' stand the thought of being that far away in case Luca woke up.

"Thank you, Bishop. I'll have it cleaned. I think someone in this family runs a dry cleaner," I added, voice a little peppy, finding myself a bit delirious with relief.

Lucky led me up to the floor, but stopped outside of the door, giving me a nod, allowing me to go first.

I didn't even stop to question his selflessness seeing as this was his cousin and best friend.

I just charged into the room.

Hospital beds tended to dwarf people, making them look small and frail.

Not Luca.

He looked as strong and intimidating as ever, if maybe a lot more pale than usual, his eyes a bit tired-looking.

But as soon as he heard footsteps, as soon as his head turned to find me there, a smile curved up the edges of his lips.

"There she is," he said, voice warm, if a bit scratchy.

I flew at him, managing to stop myself from flinging my body over his when I noticed the bulkiness of his body under his gown—bandages from the surgery.

I dropped instead into the small space at this side,