The pungent smell of bleach forces my heavy lids to spring open. I slowly blink away the blurriness, attempting to take in my surroundings as repetitive high-pitched beeps ring through my ears.
Well, that's a good sign. I'm still alive.
The bland walls and machines become clearer, confirming my growing suspicion. My gaze swivels around the hospital room. How long have I been here? I take in a deep breath and immediately regret it. My lungs fight through a burning sensation and I close my eyes to distract myself from the excruciating pain.
The memory of the night hits all at once. The cartel. Them chasing us. The headlights.
Where's Eliza?
Grabbing hold of the cold, metal bed rails, I pull myself forward. The call remote crashes onto the floor. Fuck. My arm stretches toward it, but the moment my finger tips graze the remote, the pain becomes unbearable. I barrel over, clutch at my chest, and scream out. Tears sting my eyes.
"What are you doing?!" A familiar voice shouts from the doorway. "Mia amica. You need your rest."
Tony races over and cautiously leans me back. The cool material of the sheets gently soothes my aching frame. He mumbles curses in Italian.
"What happened to me?" Every word is harder to get out than the one before. "The car hit us." I lick my cracked lips and a metallic tang assaults my tastebuds. I trail my fingers along my mouth. Red paints my skin.
"You reopened your lip." Tony grabs some tissues and holds them against the gash. "I need you to focus on breathing while I explain. Understood?" I bite my cheek and nod, trying to keep my increasing anxiety at bay. "The cartel hit your car. Mainly your side." His hand hovers below my chest. "You broke two ribs. One punctured your lung."
My eyes widen. I open my mouth in response, but Tony shakes his head. "Not yet. Keep breathing for me, hermosa. Slow, deep breaths. In and out." He tentatively rubs my arm, preventing my panic attack from surfacing.
"Mornin', sweetheart!" A cheerful redhead with a thick southern accent bounces into the room, interrupting us. She clutches her clipboard in one hand and ice chips in the other. The cup gets placed on my rolling table and she stops in front of the monitors while blowing a giant pink bubble and reviewing my vitals. "It's nice to see you awake again and more alert." She gives me a wink. "I've missed seeing those beautiful baby blues." The woman gives Tony's shoulder a squeeze on her way out. "I'll let Dr. Miles know that you're up. He should be in shortly."
"Thanks, Lee."
"Awake again?" I blurt as soon as the woman leaves.
Tony nods. "You woke up a couple days ago after your chest tube was taken out."
"Chest tube?!"
"Yes." He settled on the edge of the bed. "You might feel a little foggy for a bit from the concussion."
"Concussion?!"
"Jesus-Fucking-Christ, Tony!" Eliza bursts in, shaking her head. "I know Nurse Lee said only one of us in her room at a time, but I can't stay in the hall and listen to this train wreck any longer." My best friend rolls a suitcase in front of her, pointing at it with a bandaged hand. "And yes before you ask again, her bag is packed."
"Why is my bag packed? Are you okay? How long have I been out? Where's the security team? What the fuck is going on?"
"I'm sorry, Liv. Let me explain, since Tony's shit at it." He huffs in response, but makes room at the foot of the bed for her.
"I'm fine—don't worry about me." She twirls her hand in the air. "I really only have a few cuts and scrapes and some glass was embedded in this hand. The impact was primarily on the passenger side." She leans over, resting her bandaged palm just above my injuries. "You had a chest tube that inflated your lung after it collapsed, broken ribs, a mild concussion, glass in your arm, and a laceration in your lip that Dr. Miles stitched up."
Holy shit.
"How long have I been here?"
"Four days."
"Four days!" I slowly pull myself upright, leaning against the stacked pillows. My muscles burn, but I push aside the onslaught of pain. "What about everyone else? The security team? Bjorn?"
"You know Bjorn." She chuckles trying to lighten the mood. "He's a brick house."
"What about the other guys? We lost the taxi in traffic."
Eliza's hesitates as her eyes fall on Tony. He sternly shakes his head and mouths the words "Not now."
My spine straightens and I use every ounce of strength to shove resilience behind my words. "What are you not telling me? I can handle it."
Liza glances back at Tony again and sighs, mumbling something under her breath about me deserving to know. She interlaces our fingers and squeezes my hand. "The other car didn't make it."
My stomach instantly drops as bile fills my bone-dry throat. I swallow it down and a silent sob leaves my lips. My eyes well with tears at the thought of someone dying because they were protecting me. "How?"
"A secondary vehicle hit them. Those that survived the crash were removed from the car and shot." Tony's jaw clenches as he grinds out each word. "Execution style."
I offer my support by squeezing his arm while my heart shatters for him. Those men were his family.
A slow breath drags past my lips and I wince from the pain as the severity of our situation sets in. Stillness fills the sterile hospital room. Men are dead. Liza and I could've died. The cartel hit our car on purpose. This wasn't a warning. It wasn't just a threat. Was this a failed attempt at taking my life? Or revenge against Axel and Mickey that went too far?
Axel and Mickey.
A cold chill runs down my spine, but I shrug away the growing dread. Now isn't the time to spiral. I need answers. "What about the guys? Axel and Mickey. Are they okay?"
"They're worried sick." Tony chuckles under his breath as if worried sick is putting it lightly. "But safe nonetheless."
Thank God.
"So why did they come for us? Do we know anything yet?
"We think it was to send the guys a message."
"This was more than just a goddamn message." Liza spits venom. "We could've fucking died."
"I don't think they meant for it to go that far." Tony warily rubs the back of his neck. His tone softening. "They'd lose all leverage if you died."
"So what then?" My stomach drops again, terror slowly creeping in. "Kidnapping? Trafficking? Holding us hostage?!"
Tony's posture slumps forward and his gaze falls to his feet. He avoids making eye contact with either of us. My best friend's face pales and a strangled sound leaves her lips.
"Oh, my God." Vomit climbs back up my throat as my body trembles. "They were going to take us!"
Tony reaches over, gently gathering Liza and me into a comforting hug. Soothing our fear and shaking limbs. He whispers an explanation of not knowing for sure, but that the evidence in one of the cartel's vehicles would suggest that was their plan. Tony's house wasn't far from the crash and he was on the scene before the situation could get any worse.
He silently embraced us for what felt like an hour, before explaining how the boys were set to meet with the cartel in two weeks and agreed to work with them until they paid off their supposed debts. The Feds needed an in and, apparently, my boyfriend and his best friend are the only ones that can help.
This is all too much.
"While we'd never intentionally put either of you in danger, these circumstances have cemented their position. Axel can't pretend he barely knows you now. All of our cards are on the table." Tony continues to explain how the dynamic of the plan has shifted. "Axel will act like this incident is keeping him in line. We believe the cartel is escalating things, so this partnership will be on their terms. They want control. And what better way to control Axel than using Olivia as blackmail."
"Great." I mutter, trying to bite back on the sarcasm and embrace my new reality as Liza fidgets with her hands, uncharacteristically quiet. She only ever gets like this when her mind is in overdrive, finding solutions and trying to rationalize. She gets that from Frank. Always problem-solving. "Blackmail and potential murder-kidnapping aside...I don't like this at all. It's too dangerous for the guys."
"It is. Molto pericoloso."
"Fucking hell, Tony." Liza snaps out of her glazed-over state. She smacks his arm with her uninjured hand. "You could at least lie to her while she's recovering in a fucking hospital bed."
He shrugs, giving me a sheepish grin. My friend rolls her eyes and I stifle a laugh. I might be losing my mind if I can find any humor in this absolute shit-show.
I shift into a more comfortable position on the bed as my gaze lands on the suitcase in the center of the room. Remembering Liza's initial commentary when she stormed in, I ask, "So why the bag?"
"You're getting away with Axel for a bit. Until their meeting."
"No. No, I'm not. I have work. Responsibilities."
"And your safety is one of those responsibilities." Liza argues. "This isn't up for discussion. I've already spoken to my dad. He'll wait to present your project to the board until you return."
"And what about you? What about your safety?"
"Eliza and Mickey haven't been spotted together since their break up. The media believes it was a short fling or publicity stunt. She's been photographed with other men since they ended things and considering her revolving—" Tony finds the good sense to cut himself off before I'm forced to intervene. He might be the head of an Italian Crime family, but I won't allow my best friend to be belittled, even in my broken-ass-hospital-bed-ridden-state.
Anger pours out of me in waves as Tony recognizes my clear shift in mood. He faces Liza offering an apology while nervously running his fingers through his gelled-back silver strands. "I'm sorry, bella. That was a direct quote from YouStyle Magazine, not what I think about you."
She laughs off the harsh media gossip while flirtatiously flipping her bouncy chocolate curls behind her shoulder, welcoming her inner hoe and embracing her 'fuck the haters' mentality. But I know her. Better than I know myself. I see through her carefree facade. Her forced smile only emphasizes the look in her withdrawn eyes. Regret.
My best friend's too stubborn to come to terms with her feelings for Mickey right now, so I change the subject. This isn't the time for a commitment-phobe therapy session. We'll need lots of wine and ice-cream to survive that nightmare of an intervention. And this cluster-fuck of a week.
Note to self: add Ben & Jerry date to calendar—after attempted murder / kidnapping, but before boyfriend faces potential death and dismemberment at the hands of the cartel.
A crazed laugh escapes my lips and Liza joins in. I wipe at my tears, trying to regain control, knowing we're giving blubbering basket case vibes. I blame our new found trauma.
After several minutes of going between laughing hysterically and bawling, we eventually compose ourselves-ish. Liza's smile stretches wider as if we both feel the same relief coursing through our bodies. Some of the heaviness in my chest lifts. Squeezing her hand tighter, a palpable sense of calmness flows through me. I know deep in my soul that we will survive this bullshit together. Axel, Mickey, Liza, and me. All four of us.
Because we have to.
Looking over at Tony, knowing my emotional bucket is now 100% full, I attempt to repress my intense feelings and lighten the mood. "So...Where's my boyfriend taking me against my will?"
"Italy." He grins. "Ready to meet the family?"