by Linda Verji
When they'd broken up, Danny had actually taken his brothers out for celebratory drinks. Ding Dong, the Mitch was gone. Only he didn't stay gone. The guy still hung around Misha like a bad smell or a bedbug. God knows what for. There's a reason, they were called exes. They were supposed to be x-ed from your life.
"How did you know she was here?" Danny asked.
"Grapevine," Tony returned curtly. "Another cop was investigating the break-in at her place-"
"Break-in?" It was enough to jolt Danny out of his irritation.
"Yeah. There was a break-in at her place. Her neighbors reported gunfire." Tony's sharp gaze flicked over Danny as he continued, "We think Misha was running from the intruder when Kendrick Vexer ran her over."
Now it made sense… so much sense. No wonder Misha had been outside. Danny swore under his breath. How many times had he told her that that neighborhood was unsafe? When her parents had started their lives there it was middle-class, but the years hadn't been good to the neighborhood. The crime rate had shot through the roof forcing safety-conscious people to move. A celebrity like Misha didn’t stand a chance there.
"She should've sold that house," Tony voiced Danny's thoughts.
"It was her parents’ house," Danny defended, though it was more because he didn't like agreeing with Tony. "Do they know who the intruder is?"
His eyes on Misha, Tony said, "It's an ongoing investigation."
Danny snorted. Ongoing investigation, my ass. They probably didn't know smack. He goaded, "Then you should go do it. Investigate."
Tony gave him a hard stare, but only said, "You're right. I should." He dipped his hand into the interior pocket of his overcoat and extracted a business card. He held it out to Danny. "Call me if she wakes up."
Danny took it but as soon as Tony was out of the room, he tossed it into the waste-basket. If Misha were awake, no doubt she would've cussed him out. Whatever. He'd never pretended that he felt anything other than extreme dislike for Tony. His acting skills only went so far and Misha knew him too well to be fooled anyway. When it came to Tony Wu, Danny was a bastard and he didn’t care who knew it.
By two p.m. Danny was fading fast. Even thoughts of Misha waking up while he was asleep weren't enough to keep weariness at bay. Despite the discomfort of contorting his frame into a chair built for a man half his height and build, he nodded off.
It was going on four p.m. when the persistent vibrations of his phone yanked him from sleep.
"You were supposed to pick me up," Zeke said as soon as he picked up.
Straightening in the seat and clearing his throat, Danny asked, "Pick you up from where?"
"The airport, you little turd." Obvious irritation in his voice, Zeke added, "I've been trying to get a hold of you for the last hour."
Danny ran a hand over his face to clear the imaginary cobwebs. "I thought you were coming in tomorrow. Sunday."
"It is Sunday,"
It was? Danny checked his phone's screen to confirm. Indeed it was Sunday. He swore underneath his breath. "Sorry, dude."
"You got lost in one of your inventions again, didn't you?"
"Actually, no. I'm at the hospital."
"What?" The impatience immediately faded from his brother's voice. "Are you okay?"
"I'm good. It's Misha." Danny paused. "She was hit by a car."
Danny briefly explained the circumstances of the accident. Even before he was done, Zeke said, "I'm on my way."
"Do you want me to send a car for you?" Danny offered.
"Don't worry. I got it." Barely an hour later, Ezekiel Landa-Hollis, better known as Zeke strode into the room. In his charcoal gray suit and navy shirt, he looked like he'd walked out of a boardroom instead of a plane. His only concession to it being a weekend was the lack of a tie.
Were it anyone else Danny would've been surprised at the fast response time - but this was Zeke. He'd been taking care of the family since he was old enough to tie his own ties and wielded authority like it was his birthright.
"Hey," Danny greeted as they embraced. Though Zeke was a good six years older than Danny, the two brothers shared startlingly similar looks; midnight black hair, cobalt blue eyes and muscular. The only difference was that Zeke wore spectacles. It was common for people to assume that Zeke was Danny's more standoffish twin.
"Hey. Are you okay?" Zeke gave him a slow head to toe perusal taking in the blood-red eyes, light stubble and rumpled tuxedo.
"I'm not the one who ran into six thousand pounds of solid metal." Danny sighed tiredly as he slumped back in his seat.
"How is she?" Zeke asked. Danny started to update him but was interrupted by the arrival of the hospital's head nurse presumably to welcome Zeke.
As the CEO of the family's group of hotels and their spokesman, he was also the most recognizable of the Landa-Hollis brothers. Within minutes of his arrival, the hospital pulled out its red-carpet. Misha's surgeon appeared out of nowhere to brief Zeke on her state. Two nurses hovered over Misha, fiddling with her IV bag and covers as if demonstrate that they were taking good care of her. Even the hospital's director made an appearance.
"Doesn't he get tired of all these people sucking up to him?" Nathan, Danny's older brother by all of two years, asked when he made his appearance.
Like Danny and Zeke, Nathan carried the black hair, blue eyes gene. He was however a few inches shorter than his brothers, something Danny and Zeke enjoyed constantly pointing out. A choreographer by profession, Nathan owned and ran Extreme Expressions, a performance arts school. Unlike Zeke and Danny, he’d chosen to stay away from the family business and do his own thing after he and their mother had had a falling out.
For a while Nathan had been the black sheep of the family with a huge chip on his shoulders. But those days were long gone. Shakira, a woman Nathan had first pegged as a con woman, had engineered a ceasefire between Nathan and their mother. Danny was thankful to her if only because the peace between Nathan and Edya made family gatherings less awkward
"He hates all the ass kissing," Danny said as he eyed Zeke who was outside the room speaking to the hospital's director. "But what's he gonna do? Snub them?"
"Speaking of what people need to do." Nathan wrinkled his nose. "You need to brush your teeth and shave that bush on your chin. Have you even showered since yesterday?"
Danny rolled his eyes. "When was I supposed to do that?"
"I don't know, but you need to do it soon. We don't want your woman to think you've let yourself go when she wakes up," Nathan teased.
"She's not my woman."
"Yeah, right." Disbelief oozed from Nathan's raised brows as he pulled out his wallet and held out his black card. "There's a gift shop downstairs. Go get yourself a toothbrush or whatever. I'll stay with Misha."
Danny protested, "She might wake up while I'm gone."
"And you'll say hi, when you get back." Nathan tucked the card in Danny's coat pocket and pushed him toward the door. "Go."
Logically, he knew his leaving wouldn't make a difference in Misha's condition. But feelings rarely listened to logic. Part of him was sure that if he left her side, she might let go of the rope that was keeping her here.
As if he could read his brother's thoughts, Nathan features softened. "She'll be fine. I promise."
Danny wanted to go off at Nathan for making promises he wasn't capable of keeping, but he knew that his brother was just trying to help. He sighed. "Fine." Then tossed in, "FYI, I have my own black card these days."
Nathan chuckled. "Whatever you say, kid."
Brothers. Danny shook his head as he rode the elevator down, but he couldn't help the whisper of a smile on his face. He had to ask a nurse for directions to the gift shop but soon found it. After picking out a toothbrush, shaving kit among other things he could use to shower in the en-suite in Misha's room, he headed to the check-out counter. While standing in line, he glanced towards the rack holding the dailies.
He did a double-take when he saw the day's headline.
/> Wilde Assistant Killed In Gas Station Shooting.
"What are you doing?" Zeke asked as he and Nathan watched Danny rummage through the waste-basket beside the door.
"Probably hunting for food," Nathan said. "Remember his dumpster diving days?"
"Yuck." Zeke shivered. "Don't remind me."
"Shut up." Danny shot them both disapproving look, even though that phase of his life was indeed a 'yuck' worthy phase. It, like many of his bad decisions, could be placed squarely at Misha's feet. She'd hounded him endlessly for months about how he didn't understand the plight of the 'little' people seeing as he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, and how he couldn't survive being homeless. Finally he'd taken her dare to live on dumpster 'gourmet' for a month. Yuck!
"Seriously, kid, what are you looking for?" Zeke pressed, just as Danny found it.
"Aha!" Danny held up Tony's card. "Found it."
"Found what?" His brothers stared at him warily.
Ignoring their question, Danny keyed the number into his phone then dialed. One ring, two rings, and Tony picked up. "Tony Wu."
"Hey. It's Danny - Daniel Landa-Hollis."
"Is she awake?"
Danny rolled his eyes. God, the man was so one-track minded. "No, she's not. But could you come to the hospital? I need to talk to you."
"What about?" Tony countered.
"Are you coming or not?" Danny snapped.
There was a long drawn silence on Tony's end of the line. I swear. If Danny could reach into the phone, he would've yanked the guy by his girly ponytail. Tony sighed. "Fine."
And the line went dead.
Rude. Danny shook his head as he tucked his phone back into his pocket. Honestly, he was surprised some criminal hadn't shot Tony yet considering how rude he was.
"Who was that?" Zeke asked.
"Tony Wu," Danny said as he sat on the foot of Misha's bed. Both his brothers' eyebrows shot up in unrestrained surprise.
Nathan repeated carefully, "Tony Wu?"
"Yes, Tony Wu."
"Like the Tony Wu who dated your woman?"
"I told you she's not my-" Danny abruptly stopped speaking. Nathan only said stuff like this to get to him and Danny was playing straight into his Machiavellian hands. Danny took a deep breath to calm himself then answered calmly "Yes, that Tony Wu."
"If you're planning to commit a murder, I prefer not to be a witness." Zeke narrowed his eyes. "Are you planning one?" He lifted his hand before Danny could answer. "No, don't tell me. When I'm asked to testify at your trial I'd like to be able to honestly say I had no idea you were crazy."
"I won't kill him." Danny huffed in irritation. Unfolding the newspaper he'd come with, he held it up so his brother's could read the headline. "I want to talk to him about this."
Zeke read, "OKC Energy narrowly defeats FC Dallas in the Western Conference Final."
"What the hell are you readi- oh." Danny was holding the paper back out. He turned it.
Nathan read, "Wilde Assistant killed in gas station shooting." He laughed. "You know Tony can't arrest people for typos in the headline, right?"
"You're such a child," Danny said. "It's not wild assistant. It's Wilde assistant. As in Eric Ingram, Katherine Wilde's assistant."
"What?" Zeke pulled the paper from Danny's grip. "Eric's dead." He skimmed the text of the article below it and shook his head. "Shame. He once approached me about working for us. Seemed like a decent-enough guy." He eyed Danny. "But what's his death got to do with you and Tony?"
"Remember the party Mother asked me to stand in for you…" Danny explained what had happened at the event; from Eric approaching Misha to the conversation they'd overheard while in the bathroom.
When Tony made his appearance, Danny was forced to repeat the whole explanation. But of course Tony only heard what he wanted. "What were you doing in the bathroom with Misha?"
Danny fired back with a smug. "Kissing her."
The tension in the waiting room, where they'd since moved to give Misha peace, instantly spiked a couple of notches. Nathan snorted under his breath. "Ooh. Cat fight."
Both Danny and Tony shot him glares while Zeke shook his head, a slight smile creasing his face. Danny continued, "Eric thought Katherine had taken his money, and he wanted her to give it back or something."
"Are you sure that's what you heard?" Tony quizzed.
"Yes, I'm sure," Danny retorted, offense pouring from his tone in waves. Did this guy think he was deaf or something? He added, "Eric was blackmailing Katherine and wanted to use Misha as leverage."
Tony was quiet for a while, then he dismissed, "It's probably a coincidence."
"Really?" Danny crossed his arms over his chest. "It's a coincidence that Eric was killed an hour before someone broke into Misha's house and shot at her? It's a coincidence that this gas station is only a couple of miles from Misha's house?" He snorted. "They must be handing out cop badges to just anyone these days."
"You're something else, Hollis." Tony looked like he wanted to say a lot more about what Danny was, but had the good sense to bite his tongue. Instead he said, "I'll look into it."
"When?"
"That's none of your business," Tony snapped, his calm façade cracking. "I'm the detective here and contrary to your implications, I'm actually quite good at my job. So, again, I'll look into it." Danny opened his mouth to skewer him with a snappy comeback, but Tony beat him to the chase. "And don't even think of using your influence to interfere in my case." His glare moved away from Danny to pin Nathan and Zeke too. "All of you."
"What an asshole," Danny muttered as he watched Tony stride away.
Zeke shrugged. "I like him."
"Spunky," Nathan agreed.
Brothers. Danny smacked his lips as he rose to his feet and headed back to Misha's room. The two betrayers masquerading as his brothers trudged behind him all the while listing all the things they liked about Tony. Closing his ears to their ridiculous chatter, he strode to the bedside table where he'd put the things he'd picked up from the gift shop. He was reaching into the white shopping bag when someone cleared their throat- someone in the bed.
His eyes swung to the bed to find her watching him.
His heart hopped a beat, his blood froze in its tracks and his limbs seemed to be glued in place. He breathed, "Misha?"
She inclined her head and squinted as if slightly confused then gritted roughly, "You look like crap."
Danny burst into a wide grin.
CHAPTER 8
So this is how it felt like to get smacked by a car? God, it hurt.
Her head felt like someone had run it through a grinder, reassembled it, inserted a rowdy marching band inside it, then shoddily plastered it back to her body. Icy needles stung from the top of her skull, around the width of her head and down to her neck. Even the low light in the room was enough to make her eyes smart.
Then there was her body; five feet nine inches of pure pain. Whatever juice was in the IV curved into her arm was low-grade stuff because muscles she never even knew she had were screaming bloody murder.
"Hey." Danny flashed her a smile as he took her hand and brought it to his lips. "How do you feel?"
"Horrible." The act of speaking was like trying to pump air through a rock, and it felt like someone had been scouring her dry throat with nails. A bottle of water with a plastic straw in it appeared on the other side of her. She turned to find a smiling Zeke holding the bottle and Nathan standing beside him. She returned the smile. "Hey, Zekey. Nate."
"Hey, Misha," Danny's brothers answered as Zeke pressed the straw to her lips. Aaah. Sweet relief. Misha sipped on the water, as she tried to focus her brain. She'd already gathered that she was in the hospital. But…
She turned back to Danny, "How did I get here?"
The last thing she remembered was a hyperventilating Kendrick Vexer kneeling on the ground beside her doubled-over figure levitating between frantic apologies and asking her what he should do.
"Ambulance," Da
nny returned as he settled on the chair next to her bed, still holding her hand. "Do you remember what happened?"
Her lips parted to answer, but the doctor chose to enter at that precise moment.
"Welcome back, Miss Alexander." The doctor brushed past Nathan and Zeke to stop beside her. "You're at Chesley Memorial and I'm Dr. Lyon. Are you in pain?"
Misha cleared her throat and nodded. "Yeah, a little."
"Where?"
"Everywhere. But mostly my head."
"Understandable considering how hard you hit your head," Dr. Lyon said pleasantly. "I'll get you something for that. Do you know your name?"
"Miss Alexander?" Misha answered cheekily.
The doctor's mouth quirked. "Your full name."
"Misha Alexander."
"He wants your real names," Danny teased as he stroked her cheek with his fingertip.
"Ugh! Fine." Misha wrinkled her nose. "Michelle Artemis Alexander."
"Good. Good." The doctor flicked on his penlight and shone it to her eyes. Misha flinched at the glare of light but obviously the doctor was happy because he nodded. "Do you remember what happened to you?"
She squinted, trying to think past the pain. Hazy images of being in her kitchen, a gunshot… she tried tentatively, "Someone tried to kill me?"
Danny started, "Kendrick didn't mean to-"
"No, not Kendrick. He just hit me with the car. I remember that." She tilted her neck trying to dredge up the memories. A clear image of her tossing her kettle at a shadow edged away her doubts. This time her voice was sure. "Someone tried to kill me. Did they catch that asshole?" Agitated, she tried to sit up but pain shot through the left side of her body forcing a moan out of her aching throat.
"Misha," Danny's worried voice pierced her pain.
"Take it easy," Dr. Lyon soothed as he rubbed her shoulder. "We had to remove your spleen and stitch you up. Nothing that won't heal in time, but no abrupt movements for you yet."
