"It's fine," she said, suddenly remembering she was supposed to be mad at him, yanking her hand away and moving out away from his body, shaking the water off her hands. "Don't worry about it," she said, pulling the door handle and disappearing outside.
Daniel turned off the water and dried his hands before going back out. Faith and K were gone and Detective Block was waiting for him to reemerge.
"What? Trying to make sure your stories line up? Really, an FBI agent falling for a mafia princess? How cliche is that?"
Daniel snorted, unable to help himself. "A mafia princess would mean she's actually the child of one of the big guys. She's not. She's a fucking bartender. Do your research. Now, if you don't mind, let's get this shit over with. I have my own pile of paperwork to fill out about this."
With that, they got it over with. And then he finally was on the way to the hospital to check on his best friend, but, even more so, to check on his girl.
FIFTEEN
Faith
She felt like she couldn't breathe.
That was so cliche, so pedestrian for someone as seasoned in bloodshed as she was, but that was how she felt. There was a vice grip that had gotten ahold of her lungs and was just squee-squeeze-squeezing away, tighter and tighter as each minute passed.
Her mind was a chaotic place. One moment, it was completely blank. The next moment, it was swirling with so many thoughts that she felt dizzy.
K was beside her in the back of the cab- a stoic, stalwart presence that was calmer than you could expect a fucking yogi to be. That was the nice thing about K; nothing rattled him except maybe one of his women getting into trouble. In all other situations, you could count on him to be a calming energy, helping to ease yours when it was wild and uncontrollable.
He didn't offer comfort. He didn't hold your hand.
He was just there for you.
Sometimes, that was more than enough.
Faith hated hospitals. She hated them in all their forms- emergency places, psych hospitals, care centers for the elderly. Maybe it was because she spent so much time in those kinds of places with her mother, was assaulted by either the crazed energy or the soul-deep hopelessness the halls were always filled with.
Regardless of all that, though, when he cab pulled up, she practically ran inside, almost knocking over Gio in the process.
Gio looked like his brothers. He was tall, dark, handsome, and well-built. Whereas his brothers wore suits because that was just the only acceptable dress in the family, Gio was almost perpetually in jeans and a tee. Granted the jeans cost almost three-hundred bucks and the tee was at least a hundred and the shoes on his feet were rare enough to make any sneakerhead jealous. The only real difference between Gio and his brothers was where Anthony and Salvatore had dark brown eyes, Gio had ones that were almost honeyed in color.
"Surgery," he said immediately, wrapping an arm around her and kissing the top of her head. She hadn't seen him in the better part of half a year, but he always greeted her like they were the oldest and dearest of friends. "K," he greeted the man behind Faith, giving him a head nod. "They're hopeful, honey. Hey," he said, pulling back, looking into her face, "were you crying?" he asked.
"I..." she started to deny it, then shrugged. "It was a crazy night."
"Do they have anything to pin on Pops and Salvatore?"
"Not that I can tell," Faith said, shaking her head. "I got in there just seconds after the shots went off, but the panic room door was already closed."
"Thought he was a fucking idiot when he put that damn thing in," Gio said, smiling. "Guess Pops was right yet again. Who the fuck did this?"
"Alan," Faith said, remembering the shock she herself had felt at seeing him holding the gun.
"Alan Sapriano? The fuck with the huge gut and bravery of a goddamn wild rabbit?"
The one in the same. He was pretty low-level in the organization. He mostly sat in the car while the other guys collected the money. He was a glorified fucking chauffeur.
"The one and the same."
"The fuck could make him flip like that? I didn't even know the bastard had it in him to hold a gun, let alone fire one."
She wanted to know the exact same thing. When she calmed down enough to think things through, that was all she could focus on- what the hell went down at that meeting?
The meetings at Lam were always between the higher-ups, the guys who saw to all the business. And there was hardly ever any conflict above raised voices. Half the guys hadn't even gotten there yet and somehow a shootout took place? That made no sense. Was it because of Max? Had Alan somehow weaseled out the truth about him? Had he decided to try to earn some brownie points by shooting him? But then, why the hell shoot Anthony? Whatever he might have gained by shooting Max, he lost by shooting Vin's son. Hell, he would be lucky if he ever made it to prison. Vin's wallets were deep and his connections were everywhere.