Page 152 of Bad Bishop

“The limit is 600 mph,” Luca pointed out.

“If the fucking sky police fines us, I’ll foot the bill.”

My hand flew to the overhead switch panel, increased the power, and gradually lowered the pitch attitude to maintain the altitude.

“Tell me you know what you’re doing.” Luca scrubbed his face tiredly.

“I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you mean it?”

“No.”

I took an aviation course, but never put in the flight time. My memory was a bit rusty on the ins and outs of it. But hey, we were still in the air, weren’t we?

“Are you going to kill all of us?” Achilles inquired indifferently. “If so, I’ll go ream the flight attendant’s ass, so at least I can die doing something I love.”

“Here.” I stood up and grabbed the pilot by the collar, dumping him back into his seat. “That’s better. Now that we’re at maximum speed, how about I’ll dig my gun into your temple to make sure you don’t decrease it, and you won’t bitch and moan to me about health and safety?”

He nodded, gulping.

_______

When we arrived at the private airport, I rushed into the Ferrantes’ Escalade and leaped out as soon as we hit the Manhattan traffic. I stalked my way between the vehicles waiting at a red light to the front of the line and yanked a biker off his Ducati. I wasn’t gonna wank around sitting at a standstill while Lila’s life was hanging by a thread.

I floored it to the hospital. As I pulled into a double park, a GMC truck zipped past, grazing my left side and slamming me against a lamppost. My right knee smashed into the concrete. I limped my way into the hospital, dragging the leg as I did, ignoring horrified looks and Good Samaritans wanting to help.

I pushed a few nurses out of the lobby elevator to make room, both for myself and my psychotic meltdown. By the time the elevator pinged open, my knee was the size of a fucking basketball. I crawled the length of the corridor the rest of the way, bypassing Enzo and his little minions. He was standing outside her door, yelling in Italian into his phone and ignoring his slithering, bleeding brother-in-law.

Was it my best look? No.

Did I give a shit? Also no.

Two of my soldiers were waiting by her door. I swung myself upright and stumbled inside.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

And there was Lila.MyLila.

So beautiful. So pale. So angelic I sometimes second-guessed she belonged to this ugly world.

Her eyes were closed. Her face was bruised. Her stomach was…intact?

I knew jack shit about pregnancies. The baby still seemed to be in there. But that didn’t mean he had a heartbeat or that he survived.

The sound of a toilet flushing came from an adjacent toilet, and Fintan got out, zipping his trousers. “Brother.”

We collapsed into a hug. It took everything inside me not to sob like a little bitch. Fintan was the first to disconnect.

“I’ll go call the doctor, yeah? He said he’s got some news.”

I nodded, advancing to Lila’s bed and taking her hand in mine. Cold. Frail. Hooked to so many tubes and strings.

I needed to find out who did this to her. Who drove the truck that hit them. I was going to kill that person in a way so painful it had yet to be invented.