Page 120 of Bad Medicine

Sliding the photo into my pocket, I slipped back out of the G Wagon and made my way back over to the Chevelle.

“All good, then?” Enzo asked from his place in the passenger seat.

“Absolutely,” I responded, casually handing him back the murder weapon. “Remind me to talk to your guy about getting me one of those. That thing is slick as fuck.”

“Will do,” Enzo drawled, wrinkling his nose at the bag containing the piece from his belt buckle that I’d used to end Gregor Belikov’s life.

“Now,” I said, starting up the car and smiling at her throaty rumble. “You wanna hit the club?”

“Nah.” Enzo waved a dismissive hand. “My wife’s at home. That’s the only place I wanna be.”

“Yeah.” I smiled, already anticipating climbing into bed with Mia, her warm body soft in all the right places. “That sounds like a fine fucking idea.”

Epilogue

Rocco

“Comeon,Doc!Let’sgo already.”

Why the hell did women take so fuckin’ long to get ready for shit? It’s not like Mia didn’t look good all the time as it was.

“We’ll be there when we’re ready and not a moment sooner, Rocco.”

Francesca was usin’ her boss lady voice, so I knew there’d be no rushin’ them.

Huffing out an annoyed breath, I turned back to the kitchen where Enzo was waiting, whiskey glass in hand, as he stared at the television in the living room.

They were showing the story about Gregor again, but I couldn’t give two shits. He was gone; that was all that mattered.

When the news first broke three days ago, Mia had known right away that it was me. We’d been lying in bed early that morning, both of us tired from a round of slow, deep fuckin’, me with my hand over her mouth so we didn’t wake Jasper in the next room. I’d never done a slow morning fuck like that, and it was very quickly moving to the top of my ‘favorite ways to make Mia come’ list.

After that sweet fuck, she’d grabbed her phone, and the first story on her newsfeed was of the late Greg Belmont, another city councilman dead due to the city’s ever growing drug problem.

Of course, the reporters didn’t know that the drug problem was directly due to Councilman Belmont, but that was a moot point now, wasn’t it?

When Mia saw the news, she honestly gasped out loud, and I braced myself for her anger, for her disgust even, at the fact that I’d killed the father of her child.

I’d expected her wrath.

What I’d gotten was her gratitude.

“Thank you,” she’d sobbed, her arms around my neck as she cried into my chest. “Oh, God. It’s over. Thank you.”

“I told you, baby,” I’d whispered into her hair. “Trust me.”

Even now, three days later, every time his photo flashed across a screen somewhere, Mia turned her head to me and smiled, sending a jolt of pride straight down into my chest.

It was the greatest feeling in the fuckin’ world, protecting your family.

“Don’t try to rush them,” Enzo said, setting his glass down on the granite counter with a heavy thud. “Francesca is just stubborn enough to make us wait longer.”

“I heard that,” the woman in question grumbled as she made her way down the stairs. “And I’ll have you know that I absolutely would have made you wait, except for the fact that if we stay here any longer, I’ll have to pee again before we leave, and there is no way I’m wrestling my ass back into these Spanx for a third time tonight.”

“Babe,” Enzo said, joining her as she reached the last step, his hands reaching for her hips and pulling her to him. “If the underwear are so awful, just ditch ‘em.”

“Enzo, we are going to a New Year’s Eve ball at the mayor’s residence. I can’t just show up going commando under my dress.”

“Didn’t stop you last time we were at an event with the mayor,” Enzo practically purred, and it was at that point that I decided I had better places to be.