CHAPTER 12

RENZO

 

I didn’t sleep.

That was the first thing I understood once the house settled again.

‘Sleeping’ to people like me implied drifting across my unconscious state. So… No. Instead, what happened to me was closer to being held underwater while everyone else kept moving above the surface. I could neither float nor sink. I just… stayed.

That was the worst feeling ever.

The doctors called it a coma with preserved auditory processing. I heard that phrase later, when Elix repeated it to someone on the phone growling.

“It means he can hear,” she said. “So don’t talk shit around him.”

Voices were the only thing that proved that time was real.

Every morning Elix greeted and moved around my room like she was Zaria. I knew her steps now; the way she paused before entering a room, checking herself in the mirror… I knew the sound of her bracelets when she leaned over me.

“Good morning, Renzo,” she said softly. Her dainty fingers brushed my temple. Always two of them and she did it as a ritual every fucking morning. Then she checked my pulse and neck to see if I was warm.

“You’re still here,” she added, “That’s good. Keep living, Renzo.”

I didn't know how to react to that statement. If I were awake, I'd probably frown. But someone laughed nervously in the background. Grace, maybe. Or May? However, that was the laughter of those who weren't sure.

I wanted to tell Elix to find Zaria, but my mouth wouldn't move; my tongue was slack, and my jaw was useless. Saliva pooled, dribbling down my jaws sometimes, because the muscles that should have handled it weren’t listening to my brain anymore.

It was called impaired bulbar control. I heard a neurologist say it while flipping through my scans like I was a thing of fascination and an object to be experimented on.

Elix noticed everything.

“May,” she snapped her fingers lightly.

“Here, Ma'am.”

A cool soft cotton fabric brushed my cheek. She wiped the corner of my mouth with care that was almost intimate.

“Thank you,” Elix said, quieter now.

She did that a lot: Thanked people, which kind of confused them more than if she screamed.

I knew we were in the hospital now because it smelled different from the house. The bed shifted beneath me as they wheeled me down a corridor.

“Elix Vescari?” a man asked.

“Yes,” she answered pleasantly.

“You’re listed as next of kin?”

She paused. “I’m listed as whatever the fuck keeps him alive,” she replied. “If you need poetry, try Richard Dominico.”

There was silence, then his footsteps retreated and the rest was a variety of machines humming, a scanner… oh, I knew this one! CT scan. Later, MRI. This time, they slid me in and the noise became louder than before.

It rattled through my skull…

Elix stayed where I could hear her.

“I’m right here,” she said. “Don’t you dare check out now. I just got started.”

The doctor talked about one or two things about cerebral edema, reduced swelling, and stable intracranial pressure… Thankfully, no further hemorrhaging occurred, and the prognosis was guarded.

How fucking boring.

My body itched for the fun of a chase.

Which brought to the question of what the fuck I was doing in a hospital for the second time this week?!

Elix should be looking for Zaria!

They moved me again. Back in the car, I was buckled in leather seats and then the engine vibrated through the frame and into my bones. Elix talked on the phone the entire drive.

“No,” she said sharply. “You don’t move without my say-so.”

Pause.

“I don’t care what Renzo used to authorize. He’s in a coma. That makes me the mouthpiece.”

Another pause.

“Yes. Tell Papa that Renzo's people answer to me now. Temporarily anyway.” she sighed, probably turning to attend me.

The warehouse smelled like metal and oil, enveloping me gracefully. How I've fucking missed this place. Even unconscious, my brain recognized that this place had held screams, confessions, and deadly deals.

The moment I was wheeled in, the room erupted.

“What the fuck is this?”

“Is Boss Renzo dead?”

“Why is she here?”

Elix didn’t rush them.

She waited until the wheelchair stopped and I felt the brakes lock. I could only picture how she was standing straight, and her chin lifted with a look. That combination was a bit terrifying if you'd ask me.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” she said sweetly. “And ladies. Thank you for assembling on such short notice.”

Immediately, someone snorted. I wouldn't put that past Asher, one of my good guys.

“You think this is funny?” he snapped. “Renzo’s out and you roll in like—”

Elix tilted her head.

“He’s not out,” she said calmly. “He’s injured and until he wakes, I will be overseeing his affairs.”

The word affairs landed like a grenade.

Shouting broke out.

“You? A Vescari? Listen bitch, this isn’t your house—”

“Fine, he isn't supposed to be here considering the assassination attempt… but I brought him here so you can pledge your loyalty to him. Renzo can actually hear…”

Asher chuckled deeply. Then I heard a sound so… wet… it hit the floor near Elix’s feet. That sounded like spit.

Shit, Asher… you shouldn't have.

Suddenly, a crashing sound made everyone groan. That was probably Hawk, grabbing Asher by the collar and slamming his head into the iron table.

Once.

Twice.

Again.

Silence filled the air as Asher’s skull was continuously pounded against the metal table. It was a crash attack that Asher had no time to fight off.

The sound was sickening, dull, and wet.

Asher screamed once, then didn’t until his body went limp. His head hit the table one last time then stayed there.

“Fucking hell, Hawk.” Someone swore. “You've killed Boss' favourite.”

Elix exhaled.

“Hawk,” she said, almost tired. “That’s enough. Thank you.”

Hawk released the man, who collapsed to the floor unconscious with blood spreading beneath his face.