“Please,” Donna said, waving her hand. “You and LC, you’re like family.”
“Yes, family.” I pulled the sheets up to LC’s chin.
“I came as soon as I heard.”
“I’m sure you did.”
She walked over and stood next to me. “How’s he doing?” she asked again.
I shook my head. “Not good. He’s in an induced coma. They have him on a respirator for now.”
Donna looked down at him. “Oh, no. I can’t imagine what it would be like . . . for you . . . if LC were to—”
I put my hand up. “I don’t even want to think about that right now.”
Donna respected my wishes. “How are the kids holding up? I saw Vegas in the hallway, and the rest of them in the waiting area.”
“As well as to be expected, considering their father’s in the hospital in a coma.”
“I didn’t see Junior,” she said. “Is he okay?”
I stared at her for a moment, unsure how much I wanted to say. My feelings about Donna were complicated, and I didn’t know if I really wanted her to know all the details about our situation with Brother X just yet.
“He’ll be around shortly,” I lied. Truth was we hadn’t seen or heard from Junior in days.
Fortunately, a knock on the door prevented her from probing any further.
“Knock, knock,” London said, sticking her head in the room. She saw who was with me and walked in the room to give her a hug. “Aunt Donna!”
“London, how are you?” Donna asked.
London pulled out of the embrace but kept one arm around Donna. She looked at her father. “About as well as can be expected, considering.”
“I know, I know,” Donna consoled London. “But just hang in there. Your father is a strong man.”
“Yes, he is,” London agreed through her tears. She looked over at me as I struggled to hold back tears of my own. Reaching her hand out to take mine, she said, “And so is his wife.”
When she squeezed my hand, I quickly turned away. This time the tears fell freely, and there was nothing I could do about it.
Vegas
23
“You ready for another game, O.G.?” one of the young bucks on the handball court boldly challenged. There was nothing like being out in the fresh air, playing a little handball. I loved watching basketball, baseball, and football, but when it came to actually playing a sport, I’d take handball any day. I guess it was a New York thing, or perhaps the lone wolf in me.
“I’d love to stay and kick your ass, young brother, but I’m late for an appointment. You brothers be strong.” I gave each one of them some dap before walking to my car to retrieve Bonnie and Clyde. Once I had them holstered in, I put on a jacket and headed into the brownstone across from the park. Hopefully I hadn’t taken too long or moved too quickly. Neither would be a good option.
The building had three floors, with two apartments on each floor. Surveying the doors for a telltale sign, I kept moving from the first floor. Running up the stairs, I spotted what I’d been looking for: an apartment with an Italian flag sticker on it. I definitely had the right place.
Reaching into my holster, I pulled out Clyde. It wasn’t always the case, but sometimes bigger was better, and I was most definitely looking to make an impression. Taking a deep breath, I ran at that door and slammed my right foot into it, knocking the door right off the hinges.
“Damn, they just don’t make doors like they used to, do they?” I said, stepping into the studio apartment.
“What the fuck?” The big, hairy naked bastard on the bed jumped up, reaching for his pants, which probably contained a gun. He froze when he saw Clyde aimed at his head. I took a few steps closer to the bed, watching his eyes light up with terror as he recognized my face. “Oh, shit. Vegas! You’re out!”