The Untouchables(39)

Not today.

“The nurses are here because we gave a big fat check that spared the board from firing half of its staff. If I wanted to, I could own this damn hospital and have your ass fired and blacklisted so quickly, you’d end up on food stamps until you’re ninety. I’m guessing it’s really hard to provide for a family, on what is it? Four dollars a day? So if I were you, I would shut my mouth, turn around and run a personal favor for me…wouldn’t you?” I snapped, causing her eyes to widen and mouth to drop open.

“You’re not moving.”

She swallowed and nodded before turning around, all but pulling Declan back into the room.

Declan looked between the retreating girl and myself. “Even in a hospital bed you can still scare the shit out of people.”

“It’s a gift. What happened with the buy?” If everything went well, we should have been twenty million dollars worth of weed richer.

Declan frowned, moving toward the end of my bed. When he looked at my chart, I felt my eye twitch.

“Touch it and I will make dealing with Coraline look like a cake walk.” I was so sick of people looking at me like a victim. I’d gotten shot, it happened. It was time to get back to work, the stupid pricks.

“Mel, you should…”

“Remember the last time you thought I should rest?” Right after I lost our last child.

He sighed. “The deal didn’t go as planned. We settled on twenty mil. They wanted thirty mil. Liam was about to, well, be Liam and start cutting them down, he was talking to you, and then the accident. He settled on thirty and we left.”

I could feel the headache coming on. My teeth clenched and my fists tightened.

“Liam paid those motherfuckers thirty million dollars? Was this weed laced with cocaine as well?”

The idiot!

“Mel, he wasn’t thinking straight. He didn’t want—”

“Shut up and get me a phone!”

“You know we will make double that. We were underpaying them anyway. It—”

Pulling the IV from my arm, I slid off the bed, causing him to rush towards me with his eyes wide. Balancing on one foot, I hopped over to him.

“Declan, call them and tell them I want my money back.” I glared into his eyes.

“This isn’t Bergdorfs, Mel you can’t—”

Grabbing his jacket, I pulled him to my face. “Call them back, or you’re going to pay me that extra ten.”

“How the fuck am I supposed to do that?” He was panicking.

“Not my problem. Get it done or you will never be a father.” I smiled, slapping his cheek softly before letting go and hopping back over to the bed.





LIAM

I sat in Fedel’s room, eating his Jell-O as he lay in bed. Checking my watch again, I looked at his cut-up face. Glass was a bitch.

“He’s late,” I told him as I took another bite.

“He’s in a wheelchair and my mother is gone. It will take him a moment to get here,” Fedel whispered, flipping on the television.

Yes, Gino was in a wheelchair only because my father put him there.

“You do know that I will kill you in front of him if he doesn’t tell me what I want to hear?” I told him honestly, watching the game.

From the corner of my eye, I saw no fear in his eyes, and I wasn’t sure if that was because he didn’t believe me or because he’d already accepted his fate.

“If I’m going to die, can I please have my last meal back?” he asked, glancing at the food I was stealing.

“It’s shit,” I told him, handing back everything but the Jell-O.

“The Jell-O too,” he said.

“Seriously?” I snickered, looking at the cup of half eaten Jell-O.

He nodded.

“You’d better hope it’s not your last meal.” I handed him the cup as the door opened.

“Gino!” I stood. The blonde nurse wheeled him in. Walking over to her, I grabbed the handles of his chair and pushed him to Fedel’s bedside.

“Do you need—” the nurse said.

“No, you may leave,” I told her. After she did, the room was silent.

Gino eyed Fedel with anger and worry, but in return, Fedel ignored him, eating his Jell-O as if he didn’t even notice he was here.

Gino didn’t look old, he looked ancient. Like he had gone to hell and back, and now he was just waiting to go back again. His face was melting, his once long hair was gone and only a few stands of grey hair covered his head. I could see the scars that were marked all over his arms. He was proud of them; they were his battle scars.

“Mr. Morris…”

“Cut the shit, Callahan,” he spat out in disgust. “What do you want from me?”