Inferno [Part 4]

by T. K. Leigh

  I shot my eyes to his, inhaling a sharp breath at his words, confused.

  “He does have some lower body movement, which shows promise for a full recovery.”

  “What do you mean?” I shook my head, not understanding. “He’s alive?”

  Dr. Hayes smiled a small smile. “When the paramedics discovered him, they thought he was dead, but they found a weak pulse. He was rushed here just after Mr. Luciano. Luckily, the bullet missed any vital organs.”

  I released a sob, covering my mouth with my hand. If I weren’t lying down, I was certain my knees would have buckled and given out under the weight of this turn of events.

  “He’s in recovery in ICU, as well, but you should be able to see him tomorrow.”

  A new wave of tears welled in my eyes. I wanted to jump out of this bed and fling my arms around Dr. Hayes’ neck to show him how grateful I was.

  He squeezed my hand one last time, as if acknowledging my gratitude, then said, “I’ll send a nurse in, but you need to get some rest yourself. If you’re not strong enough when your father and Mr. Luciano are able to have visitors, you won’t be allowed to see them, so be sure to take care of yourself first.”

  “I will,” I responded, his admonition the only motivation I needed to do everything I could to get discharged tomorrow.

  “Good.” Beaming, he turned from me, heading out of the room.

  My heart feeling like it was going to burst at the news that not only was Dante okay but my father had survived, as well, I refocused my attention on the window, my mind reeling. I stared at the San Diego skyline in the distance, the sun heading closer and closer to the horizon. Then something caught my eye. From my perch on what I guessed to be the second floor of the hospital, I noticed a large group of people gathered by the parking garage, many of them holding candles and posters with positive thoughts and prayers. Some were here for Dante, others for my father. My insides flooded with warmth at the thought of how loved they were, how complete strangers had taken time out of their schedules to come here and offer their support.

  News of what happened must have been all over the networks. Part of me wanted to turn on the television in my room so I could see the media circus first-hand. But then I’d be forced to stare into Marjorie’s cold, demeaning, remorseless eyes. The media always paid more attention to the offender than the victims in these types of situations, particularly when the responsible party was well-known, like Marjorie was. If I never had to see her face again, it would be too soon.

  The sound of a knock on the door followed by it opening tore my attention away from the gathered masses as a nurse hurried into the room. Smiling a comforting smile, she made small talk as she took my vitals. I answered questions about how I was feeling and my pain levels. Just when she was finishing up, saying to buzz if I needed anything, a flurry of strawberry blonde curls stormed into my room.

  “Ellie.” Mila stopped in her tracks, out of breath, her eyes bloodshot and frantic. She stared at me, her chin trembling. Then she rushed over, wrapping her arms around me and hugging me tighter than she ever had. “I am so mad at you, but so fucking happy you’re okay.” She pulled back, holding me at arm’s length before crushing me against her again. “You have no idea how guilty I felt. When I heard about your accident and how you disappeared…” She squeezed me tighter. “All I could think about was our last conversation, how I didn’t stop you from leaving the bar when it was obvious something was wrong. I couldn’t help but feel I could have prevented all of it.”

  I pried her arms off me, forcing her to look into my eyes. “You couldn’t have prevented any of it, Mila. It was written in the cards.”

  She laughed slightly, wiping at her tear-stained cheeks. “You sound like me.”

  “No. I sound like me. The me I was always meant to be.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  “WHO WOULD YOU LIKE to see first?” Dr. Hayes asked as he led me from my room and into the recovery wing Sunday afternoon. I’d just been discharged and was anxious to see my father and Dante, to make sure they were both okay. My brain refused to fully believe it until I saw it with my own eyes. “Mr. Luciano is still sedated due to the extent of the injuries he suffered. It will probably be a few days before we’ll start stepping down his pain meds.”

  “And my father?”

  “Senator Crenshaw is awake. He’s weak and a bit groggy, but he’s awake.”

  As much as I hated the thought of being away from Dante any longer than necessary, I needed to see my father. I’d made a promise to myself that I’d never let a day pass where I didn’t demonstrate how much I cared for him. He needed me right now. And I needed him, too. I needed to make up for all the years we had ripped away from us, and that started today.

  “Then I’d like to see him first.”

  “Of course.” Dr. Hayes led me around a corner, and I immediately knew which room my father was in based on the two men in dark suits standing outside. When they saw us approach, they nodded a greeting and stepped away from the door, allowing us to enter.

  The beeping of a heart rate monitor met me the instant I crossed the threshold. I immediately stopped in my tracks. Mila sat in a chair beside the bed, James Harrison standing just beyond her, both of them watching over my father. Never in a million years would I have expected to see Mila voluntarily in the same room as James Harrison and Francis Crenshaw.

  “Ellie,” she said when she noticed me. She jumped up from the chair, heading toward me. She placed her hands on my biceps, seemingly analyzing my appearance.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, my brow furrowed.

  She smiled and grabbed my hand in hers, pulling me toward the bed. “Keeping your father company,” she explained, then looked toward James. “We both were.”

  “Ellie?” A tired voice cracked as I approached the bed, wires and tubes attached to his body monitoring him.

  My chin quivered as I met his brilliant blue eyes. I didn’t think I’d ever see those eyes again, hear his voice again. I didn’t know what I’d done to have such a wonderful guardian angel watching over not just Dante and me, but also my father. I’d never believed more in the power of fate than I did at that very moment. Dante was right. It wasn’t his time yet. And it wasn’t my father’s, either.

  “Hey, Dad.” I took his hand in mine, relishing in the warmth of his skin.

  “Hey, sweet pea.”

  I choked out a sob at the term of endearment he’d called me all those years ago, the one I’d heard him call me in my dreams.

  James cleared his throat. “We’ll give you two some privacy.”

  My father tore his eyes from mine, offering James a smile. “Thanks, brother. For everything.”

  I looked between the two men, wondering how deep James’ involvement in this went. As much as I wanted those answers, I couldn’t think about any of it right now. I just wanted to focus on being with my father, on making up for all the time we’d lost over the years when we’d allowed Marjorie’s animosity to tear us apart. We’d been blessed with a new start, and I wasn’t going to waste it.

  “Anytime.” James squeezed my father’s arm, then retreated from the bed. Mila planted a kiss on my temple and followed him, leaving my father and me alone.

  “You’re okay.” He brought my hand up to his mouth, kissing it. His eyes shimmered with unshed tears as he scanned my appearance. “I was so scared when I saw you in that place. I thought—”

  “I’m okay,” I assured him, trying to push back the new wave of tears welling in my eyes as I recalled everything I’d endured the past several days. “Just like new.” I smiled, knowing nothing could be further from the truth. The depravity and brutality I’d witnessed would always stay with me.

  My father exhaled a sigh of relief, the tension seeming to roll off his body. “I’m so sorry, Ellie. I should have told you the truth from the very beginning.”

  “It’s okay, Dad. I know why you didn’t. I lived under that woman’s thumb for years, too. I k
new how impossible it was to stand up to her.”

  “It wasn’t just her, sweet pea. When I’d learned Merriweather was the one who took you from Lauren, I knew there was little I could do. That man… His evil was unmatched.” He shook his head as he closed his eyes, struggling to reel in his emotions. “He went to extreme lengths in order to retain his influence over some of the most powerful politicians out there…including me.”

  “Is he…?” I trailed off, lifting a brow.

  My father swallowed hard. “The night of the election, after my victory speech, I realized who I’d been married to for the past several decades. I walked into my home office and found Merriweather with a bullet in the head. I have a feeling she was trying to set me up for his murder, too.” He tore his eyes from mine and looked straight ahead, a lifetime of regrets seeming to torment him.

  I squeezed his hand, leaning down to place a soft kiss on his forehead. “It’s okay, Dad. It’s all over now. You can finally live the life you want to live. We both can.”

  “Yes, we can,” he breathed, his eyelids growing heavy. “Although I’m going to miss you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When you move to Italy.”

  I shook my head, unsure what to say. Before all this happened, I had every intention of leaving this place and never looking back. Now, I didn’t know what to do.

  “You know it’s the right path for you.”

  “But I don’t want to abandon you,” I struggled to say through the thickness in my throat.

  “You won’t.” His eyes lit up. “Lauren always wanted to see Rome. This gives me an excuse to take her.” There was a devious glint in his gaze before his expression fell.

  “Do you know where—”

  He sighed. “Steven sent some agents to the house. It was abandoned, but there was no sign of a struggle. She’s a smart girl, so she must have known something was going on when the news of your disappearance made headlines. She’s probably just waiting for a few days. Then she’ll be back.” He inhaled a quivering breath. I could sense his own trepidation about where Lauren could be, whether she was safe. Images of her bound and strung from the ceiling in the same position as Dante had been flashing in my mind. I tried to bury them, praying Marjorie hadn’t been one step ahead of us and figured out where Lauren was hiding.

  “She’s okay,” I assured him. “She has to be.”

  “I hope so, sweet pea,” he said in a drowsy voice, his eyelids fluttering closed. “After everything you’ve been through, you deserve to finally have a family who loves you.”

  I squeezed his hand, then leaned down, kissing his forehead. “I’ve always had a family who loves me, Dad. I’ve always had you.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  TWO SUNRISES. TWO SUNSETS. That was how long I was forced to wait for Dante to finally return to life, for the pain to be manageable enough for the staff to step down his medications. I continued to sit with my father whenever he was awake, which wasn’t much. The remainder of my time was spent in the room next door, where I’d hold Dante’s hand, wishing there were something I could do to ease his pain. I had several visitors in the interim. Mila barely left my side, and Quinn stopped by to check on me, reassuring me that Blake’s death wasn’t my fault, even though I knew he would still be alive if I hadn’t involved him in this mess in the first place.

  Just as the sun rose on Tuesday, Dante’s eyelids fluttered open, a small smile crossing his lips when he saw me sitting by his side. It was the first sign of clarity he’d shown in days. The staff made the decision last night to start stepping down his pain meds to see how he did. At first, I hated the idea of him suffering any more than he already had. But when I was treated to that breathtaking smile of his, that smile I thought I’d never see again, it was worth it.

  “Hey,” he croaked out in a raspy voice.

  “Hey.” I took his outstretched hand and squeezed, relishing the warmth of his rough skin against mine. My eyes remained steady on his. I never wanted to stop staring into those deep pools, grateful to see the glimmer of life within. “How are you feeling?”

  “Like I’ve been beaten and stabbed.” He ran his free arm over his stomach, wincing.

  I laughed slightly at his ability to make light of what we’d been through. We needed it; otherwise, I feared we’d never move on.

  “How are you doing?” he pressed, his eyes scanning my body for any sign of harm.

  “I’m okay. I was stuck in a bed for thirty-six hours while they flushed my system of all the drugs I’d been given to keep me knocked out. And I was treated for dehydration. Other than that, I’m fine.”

  His eyes narrowed on me and he ran his thumb over my knuckles, his delicate touch soothing me. “How about other than physically?”

  I took a sharp inhale of air, my lower lip trembling. “I can’t sleep,” I admitted, swallowing back my tears. “Every time I close my eyes…”

  “I know.” He offered me an encouraging smile. “We’ll get through this.”

  I blew out a long breath, allowing his reassurance to wrap me in some sort of comfort, when the sound of a throat clearing tore through the room. We both looked toward the doorway to see James Harrison’s tall, lanky frame standing there. I’d grown so accustomed to seeing him in a suit, I almost didn’t recognize him in a pair of jeans and a black button-down shirt. His dark hair had grayed over the years, wrinkles becoming more numerous as he aged, but I saw it. In his eyes. In his nose. In his smile. The resemblance between Dante and him was unmistakable. How had I never seen it before?

  “May I come in?”

  I looked at Dante, who didn’t even hesitate before nodding. “Of course.”

  “Thank you,” he replied, walking into the room, stopping at the foot of the bed. “How are you doing? I heard they started lowering your pain meds.”

  “Yes. Everything is still sore and my stomach burns, but I’m alive.” He looked at me, smiling.

  “That’s the important thing,” James added.

  “Yes, it is,” Dante agreed.

  There was a brief pause as I looked between both men, wondering what the dynamic was here. I had been under the impression Dante still harbored a great deal of animosity toward his biological father. Now I wasn’t sure what to think.

  “I came to check on your recovery but also to give you both an update on the investigation,” James said finally. “Away from your father.” He narrowed his eyes at me.

  “Your father?” Dante lifted a brow.

  “He made it. He survived. Marjorie missed hitting any vital organs. His spinal cord was nicked, so he’ll be in a wheelchair for a while, but he’s alive.”

  He parted his lips, stunned by this unexpected turn of events. “Eleanor, that’s incredible.”

  “It took everyone by surprise…including Marjorie,” James stated. “But even with Francis’ statement and the confession Bradley recorded corroborating everything, she’s been keeping to her version of events.” He looked at me, then back at Dante. “She insists Francis was the one behind it all, that she was just an innocent victim.”

  “So Bradley was trying to help?” I furrowed my brow. “But—”

  “He was on our side all along,” James admitted. “Well, after I figured out he was being blackmailed to play a part, that is.”

  “How?” My eyebrows gathered in as I stared at him.

  He opened his mouth to answer, then paused, grabbing a chair and pulling it closer to Dante and me. “I should probably start at the beginning. It’s kind of complicated.”

  I looked at Dante for some sort of explanation, only to be met with a reassuring smile on his face. I couldn’t shake the feeling that he already knew the story. But if he knew about Bradley, why hadn’t he mentioned anything when we were locked up in that slaughterhouse, moments away from death? I had trouble wrapping my brain around this.

  “It all started when I heard of Gabriella’s passing.” James swallowed hard, frowning, appearing genuinely remorseful. �
�I just wish it didn’t take the death of someone I cared about to make me finally wake up. Despite my wife’s protests, I jumped on a plane and headed to Italy for the funeral.”

  “I was livid when I saw him there,” Dante added. “I couldn’t believe he’d be so bold as to finally want to be a part of her life when it was over, especially after years of pretending neither one of us existed. He didn’t make any excuse for his behavior, though, even when I raised my voice. He said he wanted to make things right, make up for how he’d acted toward my mother, toward me…toward Lilly. It took me a while to believe him.”

  “So I told him I would look into Sprylif, the drug Lilly had been given the week leading up to her death. I didn’t expect to find anything, but I wanted to show Dante my words were true, that I wanted to make amends for my past behavior. I figured this was a good way of doing so.”

  “But you found things, didn’t you?” I pressed.

  “Not at first. Yes, I saw there was a slight increase of deaths over a short period of time, but nothing statistically significant to necessitate us looking into the drug. With drugs like this, particularly those that are meant to treat a life-threatening disease, there are always spikes and falls.” He pinched his lips together. “But then I learned of the death of Cynthia Edelman, the woman who just so happened to be chief legal counsel for the pharmaceutical company that manufactured Sprylif. I remember reading about it when it happened, but it wasn’t until recently that I learned who Cynthia Edelman really was.”

  I nodded. “Lauren Hall. My real mother.” I looked down.

  James grabbed my hand, and I shot my eyes to his. He offered me a slight smile. “I’ve known your father a very long time. We served together. He saw how happy I was with Gabriella when we were deployed in Italy. He encouraged me to forget about what my parents thought I should do. Like you, I came from a long line of politicians. I never loved my wife. Hell, I’d only joined the army to help in an eventual run for the presidency. And Carly, my wife… She had the right background to help propel me to that level. But your father tried to encourage me to follow my heart. He had said, ‘You only live once’.”