Stop torturing yourself.
I shuddered as Denim’s words flickered like a bright light in a dark room. “Your sister is her own person. You can’t change her.”
But I could’ve helped her. I could’ve pushed harder to get her the money she needed like I had so many times in the past. I should’ve swallowed my hatred and reached out to Duke.
Argh! Duke!
My body shook like a magnitude ten earthquake. His name always conjured up images of me driving a stake through his heart. Maybe I should hunt him down. I knew where he lived, thanks to Savannah.
Despite the searing pangs of guilt in my gut, I knew Savannah couldn’t go back to prison, at least not the one she was in. She wouldn’t live an hour if she returned.
“If she makes it,” a voice in my head said.
Stop thinking the worst, Jade.
More tears fell.
A man wearing a yellow bandana around his head, blue scrubs, and a concerned expression walked in. “I’m Dr. Long. You must be Jade?”
Nodding, I came to an abrupt halt, blinking away tears and looking at him as though he were her savior. I prayed he was.
His dark eyes held sadness. “Your sister has a long road ahead of her. Her head injury is quite severe. The slit on her throat was deep, but a little deeper, and she wouldn’t have made it to the hospital. We were able to repair and stitch her up. I wish I had better news for you.”
I sobbed. “Will she wake up?”
“I’m not sure. Do you have anyone you can call? Family?”
Tears streamed down my face like a waterfall. “Our parents are dead.” I dashed away tears. “No one else is in town.”
“The next few hours are critical. You should get some rest. She’s in good hands here.”
I bit a nail. “Can I stay?” I didn’t want to go home to my depressing apartment. I wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway.
The doctor bowed his head. “I’ll let the security guard and the nurses know.”
I’d forgotten a guard had been posted outside to watch her. That should have made me feel better, but it didn’t. Where were those guards in the prison when Savannah was getting decimated?
I pulled out my phone. I needed to call Mallory and fill her in.
Dr. Long regarded me. “You will need to make your call outside. ICU policy.”
If I were going to be there all night, I needed caffeine anyway, or maybe a bottle of alcohol. “I’ll be back.”
As I left, the tightness in my chest became so constricting that I almost couldn’t breathe. Once I was near the elevator, I called Mallory.
She answered on the first ring. “Hey. I’m still at work, and my eyes are seeing double.”
I sobbed like a baby, holding my stomach.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Please tell me this has nothing to do with Denim.”
“Savannah is in a coma. She was beaten so badly, the doctor didn’t give me high hopes she’ll make it. It’s all my fault. I should’ve gotten her the money. I should’ve done something.”
“Where are you? I’m coming.” She sounded frantic.
“You can’t. Only family is allowed in ICU. I should’ve helped her, Mal. I should’ve found the money.”
“I don’t give a shit. What hospital?”
“Mass General,” I said as a female voice blared through the intercom.
“Code blue! Code blue!”
Nurses and doctors spilled into the hall from other rooms and ran into the ICU.
I hung up as the floor tilted on its axis. I ran behind the medical staff with a sick feeling gripping my chest.
Please. Please. Please don’t let them go into Savannah’s room.
But when a nurse rolled a crash cart into Savannah’s room, waving the female guard out of the way, I swayed as I came to an abrupt halt.
The female guard rushed up to me. “Miss.” Her strong hands caught me before I fell. “You need to sit.” She guided me to a desk chair on wheels. She might as well put me on a stretcher because I couldn’t get air in my lungs.
I had to see Savannah. “My sister.” I pushed past the guard, stumbling up to the curtained room.
She padded right behind me. “You shouldn’t go in there.”
Too late. I had to see Savannah.
Dr. Long had the paddles pressed to Savannah’s chest. “Again.”
The brunette nurse who had escorted me into the ICU turned a knob on a machine.
Savannah’s body jerked.
Dr. Long looked at his watch then at a monitor. All it was showing was a flat line.
No! No!
Dr. Long said something, but I only heard a jumble of words.
Part of the medical team began to leave while one nurse removed the tube from Savannah’s mouth. Another nurse unhooked her IV.
“I’m so sorry,” the guard behind me said.
Dr. Long came out with sorrow pouring off him. “I’m sorry, Ms. Kelly.”
I shook my head vigorously. “No. She’s not dead.”
Dr. Long removed his gloves. “Her injuries were too severe.”
“Please. You have to try again,” I pleaded, my voice trembling and cracking.
“Is there anyone we can call for you?” Dr. Long asked.
Anyone I’d ever loved was gone except maybe Denim. But he had probably left.
“I would like to spend time with my sister.”
Dr. Long pulled off his cap. “Take as much time as you need.”
I ambled up to Savannah, my body trembling, tears rushing out. I cried like a baby as I grasped her warm hand. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I should’ve helped you.” I shuddered. “I wish our lives had been different. I wish Mom and Dad didn’t die in the fire.” I rubbed the back of her bruised hand. “I love you, Savannah.” I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “Fly with the angels, baby sister. One day, we’ll meet again. When you see Mom and Dad, say hi for me.”
I kissed her again before I ran out of the room like a madwoman who was running out of a mental hospital. I had no idea what to do next. But I knew one thing—someone would pay for her death.
15
Denim
I craned my neck up at the twenty-story high-rise as I approached Duke’s penthouse. He lived in an area of Boston where the streets were spotless and high-end shops were nestled below expensive apartment buildings.
A light wind pushed a paper wrapper around as the lights in shops began to dim.
Travers had dropped me off two blocks away, not that I was on the clock yet. I suspected the offer in writing would take some time.
I could return to the hospital to wait for Jade, but she might be there all night. And since Travers had an agent watching her, I felt a little at ease. Since I didn’t have a phone, I couldn’t call her, and I didn’t even know her number anyway.
Besides, after talking to Travers and thinking about the shit he’d put in my head, it was time to see Duke. I pulled on the handle of the glass door to Duke’s building and found it locked.
The bellman rose from his desk and smoothed a hand down his red jacket. He took his sweet-ass time unlocking the door. “May I help you?”
“I’m here to see Duke Hart.”
The sharp-dressed bellman glanced at his Rolex. “It’s late, and Mr. Hart isn’t expecting any visitors.”
I laughed. It wasn’t even ten p.m. Surely Duke wasn’t an old man and in bed already.
“Let him know his brother wants to see him.” I wasn’t leaving. Hell, I would park my ass outside if I had to, or I would bug the crap out of the bellman.
Careful, man. He’ll call the cops.
But I didn’t give a fuck. Even if he did, I had Travers to get me out of trouble.
“I’ll let him know you were here.” The bellman started to lock the door.
I stuck my booted foot in between the doors. “Not so fast.”
He lifted his head of thick gray hair. “Remove your foot, or I’ll call the police.”
&nbs
p; If I had a cell phone, I would call them myself, or rather, I would call Travers. “Then you won’t mind if I wait inside while you call the cops.”
He cocked his head and looked at me as if I were mentally unstable.
I really didn’t want trouble. I looked at the name engraved on the bellman’s name tag. “Do you have family, Harris?”
He let out a long, low sigh and opened the door. “If he doesn’t want to see you, then you walk out without causing a commotion.”
I raised my hands. “Deal. But I’ll talk to my brother.”
He made quick work of getting Duke on the phone.
I breezed past the mailboxes and ponied up to the circular desk in the spacious lobby. “Use the speaker.”
“What is it, Harris?” Duke’s baritone voice came through loud and clear.
“Hey, brother,” I said before Harris could respond.
Duke growled. “Denim.”
Fucker.
“Let him up, Harris,” Duke said, albeit reluctantly.
Good move.
Five minutes later, I was walking out of the elevator and into Duke’s ritzy penthouse, which had a killer skyline view of Boston. I whistled. “You’ve done well for yourself, big brother, while I was rotting away without so much as a visit from you.”
Duke stood at parade rest in between two pillars that looked like something out of the Greek era.
I raised my eyebrows. “No comeback?”
He folded his arms over his bare chest as though he dared me to get by him.
I didn’t know if I would beat him in a fight or not, but I was willing to try. Years of pent-up anger boiled to the surface, causing heat to sear my cheeks. I opened my arms. “No hug for your baby brother?”
His sandy-brown hair was rumpled as though he had been sleeping or maybe rolling around in bed with some hot chick. He studied me for a second then padded across the expansive open floor plan to a bar tucked into the corner near an ornate fireplace framed in stone.
The more I looked around, the more anger swirled like a pile of hot ashes in my gut. My own blood didn’t give two shits about me, but he’d put all his energy into building his life.
“This is a new place,” I said almost to myself.
Pristine stainless appliances shone beneath the recessed lighting in the gourmet kitchen. Before I went to prison, Duke had lived in a modest apartment in the south end of Boston. However, I did remember Dillon telling me Duke’s new place was snazzy.
“Do you even use the kitchen?” I asked. Duke was a terrible cook. He’d tried to fix dinner for Dillon, Grace, and me several times growing up, but he’d burnt everything he made.
He poured amber liquid into two short glasses. “Want a drink?”
I skirted the buttery leather couch flanked by two wide leather chairs and ambled up to the fireplace. A geometric painting of reds, greens, and blues decorated the wall. “Since when are you into art?”
“Since when do you make deals with the Feds?”
My blood turned to ice as I spun around. “Come again?”
He handed me my drink. “You heard me.”
I took the crystal glass and commandeered one of the two chairs.
Duke took the other and sipped his amber liquid, glaring at me.
But I wasn’t about to back down. I took a swig of my drink, and the expensive bourbon exploded on my tongue. I would probably be drunk in a matter of minutes since I still hadn’t eaten anything, not to mention I’d gone six years without a drop of alcohol in my body.
“What’s true is I’m out on good behavior.” My mind swirled like a major hurricane, trying to figure out how he knew. The only one who knew other than Kelton, Jade, Dillon, and me was Stew, the prison guard, unless word had spread that I’d talked to the Feds. Of course, that wouldn’t surprise me since prison was like high school. Rumors spread like wildfire. Regardless, it was clear Duke had an inside man.
Suddenly, Jade’s words flashed before me. “What if the person trying to kill you wants you to believe it’s Tito?”
Fuck me sideways.
What if Duke hired Costa to kill me?
I had to ask. “Did you put a contract on my head?” If he said yes, I was throwing my drink at him.
He eyed me over the rim of his glass. “Now why would I do that?”
I shrugged. “You tell me.”
The fire crackled. The air became thick. My body vibrated.
Duke continued to sip his drink.
We were in a silent standoff, and he wasn’t about to tell me squat. I knew my brother. He was untrusting, cold, calculating, and intimidating, and those were only a few of his flaws. He had no reason to trust me, nor I him. But I was realizing why he’d never bothered to pay me a visit. He was as much a stranger to me as I was to him.
I figuratively scratched my head at how we’d gotten to this juncture. I’d always looked up to him. He’d been the father figure in our family. He’d worked hard to find jobs so he could put food on our table. He’d shielded Dillon, Grace, and me from our drunken father, who’d cared more about his booze than his own kids.
It was obvious Duke wasn’t going to answer me. It was best to change the subject, or maybe I should leave. But I wasn’t ready to give up yet.
I settled into the chair, resting my ankle on my knee. “So, Savannah is in the hospital, fighting for her life.”
His glass froze midway to his lips. “Come again.” His shrewd facade cracked as his brown eyes became as big as basketballs.
“I was just at the hospital with Jade.”
His eyebrows pinched, a deep crease forming. “Jade? You’re seeing her again?”
I wasn’t there to discuss my nonexistent love life, even though the mention of Jade seemed to perk him up. “She tells me Savannah wanted her to beg you for money for protection inside.”
“What hospital is she in?” he asked in a tone that permitted no argument.
“Why do you care? Didn’t you and Savannah break up?” Or maybe he was referring to Jade. Surely they weren’t an item. Jade hated Duke. Then again, maybe Jade knew how to lie better than she used to. Maybe she was secretly dating Duke, and the only reason she was working for Kelton was to get information on me. Maybe Jade had told Duke about the Feds.
He snagged his phone off the coffee table. “Tell me now.” A muscle ticked in his jaw.
He cared. The coldhearted Hart brother cared. Whether it was for Savannah or Jade, I’d gotten a reaction from him.
“Not until you give me answers,” I said.
He let out a dark laugh. “Are you serious?”
He could probably find out what hospital Savannah was in, but I had the urge to fuck with him. “Is your hard-on for Jade?” I was being a class A dick. Again, I couldn’t give two fucks.
He belted out a laugh. “Jealousy never looked good on you, brother.”
Are we brothers? It felt as though we were enemies.
“I know you had it bad for Jade. You probably still do.” I’d seen how he’d looked at her when she and I had dated. He didn’t have to tell me he wanted to fuck her. “So let’s not talk about jealousy.”
“Why do you even give a fuck? You left her ass behind in high school.”
I clenched my teeth. “Are you saying you slept with her?” Maybe he dumped Jade too, and that was the reason she disliked my brother. I gripped the glass, a second away from crushing it or leaping over the coffee table and ramming my fists into his face.
He sneered. “I don’t kiss and tell.”
I itched to wipe the smirk off his face. It was best that I switched gears, though. I didn’t need to end up in the hospital like I had when we were teenagers, although I was broader in the chest than Duke. Still, he could probably deck me in two seconds flat.
“Why do you insist on fucking with my head?” I asked.
“Are you sure I’m screwing with your head or your girl?”
I growled. “Why didn’t you fight for me during my trial? Find me a good lawye
r. You had the money.” I waved my hand around the room. “Still do.” The penthouse had to cost about a million, if not more.
He pushed to his feet, that smirk still in place, and moseyed over to the bar. In that moment, he reminded me so much of our old man, and not in the physical features. I resembled my old man in that department, but Duke had his mannerisms—the way he puffed out his chest, the way his expression dripped with resentment and self-satisfaction.
“You made your bed, Denim. It wasn’t up to me to fix your shit. How many times did I tell you not to get involved with Alvarez? How many times did I tell you he would bring you down?”
“Then you should’ve brought me into your money-laundering empire.”
He returned with a full glass of bourbon. “Should I check you for a wire?”
I chuckled. “Go ahead. Knock yourself out.”
Travers wasn’t going to be happy Duke was onto the Feds’ plan. I wasn’t sure how that new wrinkle would play out for me. With my luck, Travers would think I told Duke then ship my ass back to prison.
His nostrils flared. “What’s next for you? Narc on your brother? Work for Tito Alvarez?”
“Why? Do you care?”
Duke kept his feelings close to his vest unless someone royally pissed him off. Then watch out. He could be meaner than our drunk old man.
“Not at all.” His tone didn’t have one ounce of empathy or sympathy.
I shook my head. “You’re a piece of work. What happened to you?”
He shot daggers at me. “What hospital is Savannah in?”
“Answer one question, and I’ll tell you. Do you believe I killed Hector?”
“It’s late. I have a meeting in the morning.”
I squeezed the hell out of my glass. “Why is it so hard to answer?”
He pushed his fingers through his hair. “What do you want from me? Do you want me to tell you I believe you didn’t murder anyone? Because that would be a lie. The evidence says otherwise.”
I slammed the glass down on the coffee table. “Then tell me what you were doing at Alvarez’s apartment the night he was murdered.”
His jaw nearly hit the carpet. “What the fuck? Are you for real?”
I couldn’t decipher whether he was shocked I knew he’d been there or if he was shocked that I would believe he was capable of murder.
Hart of Vengeance: The Hart Series Page 11
