“The surgery went better than even I projected. Seems Rico has his father’s armored head.” Rose and his Black Castle friends who’d caught up gave drained smiles as Antonio’s gaze turned to Isabella. “But seriously, Dr. Sandoval’s impeccable damage control presented me with a fully stable patient.” His gaze turned to Richard, hardening. “Without her, the prognosis wouldn’t have been the perfect one it is now. Rico is a lucky boy to have his mom’s healing powers and nerves of steel.”
Another breaker of guilt crashed over Richard. He wanted to snatch Isabella in his arms, beseech her forgiveness. Only knowing she wouldn’t appreciate it held him back.
Antonio extended a hand to Isabella. “It was a privilege working with someone of your skill and grace under fire, Dr. Sandoval, though I wish it wasn’t under these circumstances.”
Seeming to operate on autopilot, Isabella took his hand. “Isabella, please. It’s me who’s eternally in your debt. You were the only one I could trust my son’s life with.”
Antonio waved him off. “Any neurosurgeon worth his salt would have done as good a job. His condition, thankfully, didn’t require my level of expertise. But it was a privilege to operate on him. He’s sort of my nephew, too, you know. Whether Richard likes it or not, he’s been drafted into our brotherhood.”
Richard stared at him, overwhelmed all over again as everyone murmured their corroboration.
Antonio turned to Richard. “Any debt here is all yours, buddy.”
Richard’s nod was vigorous. “Unequivocally. I’m indebted to everyone here, and to the whole world, an unrepayable debt in the value of Rico’s invaluable life.”
Antonio chuckled, no doubt enjoying seeing Richard, who always antagonized everyone, so ready to be everyone’s eternal slave.
Richard only dragged him into a hug. He even kissed him.
Pulling back, blinking in surprise, Antonio laughed. “Whoa. Who are you, and where’s the lethal and exasperating Richard Graves I know and love, and occasionally loathe?”
Richard exhaled. “He doesn’t exist anymore.”
Antonio laughed. “Nah, he’s still in there. But I bet he’ll never again emerge around our current company.” He wiggled an eyebrow at him. “I would have loved to squeeze you for an installment on your debt, but there’d be no fun in that when you’re beyond collapse.” He pulled Richard’s hand, wrapped it around Isabella’s. “Go get some rest.”
“But...”
“But...”
Hand raised, Antonio ended their protests. “I’ll hold the fort here, not that I need to. Rico is stable, but I’ll keep him sedated until his brain edema totally resolves. I’d rather you don’t look ninety percent dead, as you both do now, when he wakes up.” He shoved them away. “Go home...now.”
Twelve
All the way to Isabella’s house she sat beside him, unmoving, unresponsive. Not that he’d tried to make her respond. She’d been shattered, had put herself back together so many times, he could barely breathe around her in fear that she’d finally come apart for good.
Once inside, she stopped at the living room, her eyes glazed, as if she was envisioning their evenings spent there. Without warning, a sob tore out of her, sounding as if it actually ripped things inside her to break free.
She’d held it all in until this moment. Before another thought or reaction could fire inside him, she was a weeping heap on the ground.
Crashing to his knees in front of her, he wrapped himself around her, reciting her name over and over, hugging and hugging her, as if he’d integrate her whole being into his own, or at least absorb all traces of her ordeal.
She suddenly exploded out of his arms. His heart almost ruptured. She hated his touch, couldn’t bear his consolation.
But instead of pulling away, she tackled him. Stunned for seconds before relief burst inside him, he let her ram him to the ground, needing her to take her revenge, expend her rage, cause him permanent damage as he’d done to her. Hoping he’d finally atone for a measure of his crimes against her, he opened himself completely to her punishment.
She only crashed her lips over his.
Going limp with shock beneath her, he surrendered to her as she wrenched at him with frantic, tear-soaked kisses that razed whatever remained intact inside him. Then she was tearing at his clothes, clawing at his flesh in her desperation, bathing him in her tears, her pleas choking.
“Give me...everything...I need it all...now, Richard...now.”
That was what she needed? To lose herself in him, to ameliorate her ordeal and douse her pain?