Page 31 of His Playground (Owning Vegas #2)

Chapter Thirty

I wake up feeling like I’ve been hit by a freight train. The room is dark, and I can tell I’m alone. There’s a small lamp in the corner, giving just enough light for me to look around once my eyes adjust. I remember the doctor being here. I was hooked up to an IV.

Correction. I am hooked up to an IV.

Carlo must have dressed me because I don’t remember putting on pajamas. Where is he, though?

He must be with Jazzy. She needs him more than I do. Throwing the blankets aside, I swing my legs around, hanging them off the bed. My head spins, so I sit for a minute, hoping it’ll stop.

“Whoa, what are you doing? You need to lie down.” Charlotte appears in my doorway, and then she’s rushing over.

“Where’s Carlo?” I ask her.

“He had to run an errand.” She gives me a slight smile. “But he said to call him as soon as you woke up so he can come back.”

“Don’t call him,” I tell her. It’s not like he’s some paper-pusher in an office. No, I know who I’m married to. I grew up in this world. He’s gone after whoever tried to poison him. And I want him to. Even if that person was my father.

“Are you sure? He was very insistent that if you woke up, I had to call him.” Charlotte looks torn between following Carlo’s instructions or mine.

“I’m sure he’ll be back soon anyway,” I assure her. “Where’s Jazzy?”

“She’s asleep. Hasn’t woken up.” Charlotte looks at me. “You really should lie down.”

“I need to get this out of me.” I hold up the arm with the needle stuck in it.

“The doc is out in the living room. I can go get him. But that’s not coming out, Antonia. You were poisoned.”

“Better me than him.” I shrug. “He has a daughter who needs him. I don’t have anyone.”

“You’re wrong. You have Carlo… and Jazzy. They both need you.” Charlotte sits on the bed. “I know we don’t know each other that well yet, but I happen to like having you around. And I’m keeping you.”

“Thank you. When I heard Louie got hitched, you are not what I pictured and I’m so fucking glad you’re not.” I laugh.

“What did you picture?”

“Typical mob wife, gold digger.” I smirk. “Cold, calculated.” I could go on but I choose not to. “You’re nothing like the women who usually end up in this world.”

“Mmm, well, neither are you.”

“Oh, but I can be. I was born into it.” I plop back down on the bed, my head hitting the pillow. The room is still spinning slightly but not as bad.

“Sugar, I should have asked if you needed anything. Water? Let me go get you some water. Be right back.” Charlotte dashes out the door as quickly as she came through it.

I want my husband. I could get her to call him, but I know he needs to do his job. To keep us all safe, I have to let him do whatever it is he’s out doing.

“Antonia?” Jazzy’s voice is quiet, her footsteps even quieter as she tiptoes up to the bed. “Are you sick?”

“I was, but I’m feeling much better now. The doctor gave me some medicine,” I tell her. “Are you okay?”

“I woke up and Daddy wasn’t there. Tío E wasn’t there, and you weren’t there,” she says.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry. Jump up here. You can sleep with me. Did you have a bad dream?”

“Earlier, but Tío E told me he was going to make all the monsters go away,” she says.

“What monsters?” I press her.

“The ones who made my mommy sick. Are they making you sick too?” she asks.

“No, I just ate something bad. I’m going to be okay,” I say. “Who made your mommy sick, Jazzy?”

“I don’t know, but the men used to come and see mama and she would hide me in the cupboard. They gave her some medicine too and asked her about Daddy. Mama wouldn’t tell them, though, and they’d get mad. Do you think they know I’m here? With Daddy?”

“Mmm, I don’t know.” I roll onto my side to face her. “But what I do know is that you’re safe here and no one is going to hurt you. Tío E will keep his promise. He never breaks a promise.”

“That’s what he said.” Jazzy yawns.

“Close your eyes. Let’s sleep, and when we wake up, Daddy might be finished with his work.”

Charlotte comes back in. She places a glass of water on the bedside table. “I didn’t hear her wake up,” she whispers.

“Aunt Charlotte, you’re here too?” Jazzy’s eyes pop open at the sound.

“I am. You need something?” Charlotte asks her.

“No, I’m going to sleep here with Antonia.”

“Okay, sweet dreams,” Charlotte tells her.

As soon as the room is quiet, I close my eyes. I can feel sleep pulling me under again.

I wake up to whispered voices, and then something cold touches my chest. My eyes pop open to find Jazzy hovering over me. “Antonia, I can hear your heartbeat,” she says, holding the end of a stethoscope in her tiny hand.

“Can you? Is it good?” I ask her.

“It’s strong.” She nods enthusiastically. “Right, Doctor?”

I turn my head and find an older man looking down at me. “It is. How are you feeling?” the doctor asks.

“Good. Can you take this out now?” I hold up my arm again.

“I want to do one more round of fluids, but you should be good after that,” he tells me.

“I’m going to be a doctor when I’m grown so I can make sure you and Daddy don’t die, Antonia,” Jazzy says like she’s just found the solution to all her problems.

“A doctor, huh? That’s a great choice,” I reply, not having the heart to tell her that no matter what, we’ll all die one day. I want to ask if Carlo is back, but the fact that he’s not in this room is answer enough. “What time is it?”

“Just a little after seven,” the doctor says, while the sunlight streaming in tells me it’s morning.

“I need to get up. I need to cook Jazzy breakfast,” I say.

“Aunt Charlotte is cooking,” Jazzy chimes in. “But she’s not as good as Daddy.”

“I heard that.” Charlotte comes in with a tray. “I guess you don’t want these banana pancakes, then?”

“No, I still want them. Please! They smell so good.” Jazzy jumps up onto her knees.

“Is it okay if she eats in here? She didn’t want to leave you.” Charlotte looks to me.

“Yeah, of course.” I nod my head.

“Right, I’ll leave you to it. Drink some liquids, but stay away from anything solid for the day,” the doctor instructs.

“Evie has gone to get you some soup,” Charlotte says, and I scrunch up my nose. “Oh crap, not the best choice. I’ll call her.” She runs out of the room. The poor woman looks stressed.

“How are they?” I ask Jazzy, who is currently stuffing her face with pancakes.

“They’re good, but Daddy’s are still better,” she whispers.

I laugh. “That’s ?cause your daddy is the best at everything.”

“He’s not that good at brushing my hair. You do that better,” she says matter-of-factly.

“You know you don’t have to sit here with me all day. You can go hang out with Charlotte and Evie if you want to,” I tell Jazzy.

“I want to stay here.”

“Okay, but how about after you finish eating, you go grab some of your toys and we can play whatever you want?” My suggestion lights up her face.

“Okay.” She nods. “Are you feeling better?”

“So much better.” I smile. My head is still foggy, and my stomach is icky, but I do feel better.