Page 34 of The Mobster’s Daughter (Massachusetts Mafia #2)

Grady

G rady couldn’t remember how he ended up on the floor with blood seeping from his side, with the sharp sting of pain radiating through him.

It was immediate, excruciating, and intense.

He remembered seeing Chertok turn toward Caitlin, the overhead lights reflecting off the gun in his hand.

Everything after that was a blur of burning heat and darkness.

The next thing he knew, he was being lifted. Sean’s voice was nearby, giving orders, though he couldn’t make out the words. The room spun, the floor tilted at a crazy angle, and the pain sharpened deep in his side. He clenched his teeth, but it di dn’t help.

“Caitlin,” h e mumbled.

“She’s okay.” The voice belonged to Declan’s friend and leascheannas aí, Conor.

Grady glimpsed Calvin, a young recruit who worked for Declan, walking on the other side of Conor. He was green to the world of mobsters and getting a crash course in the lifestyle.

“Let’s put him in the car,” Conor grunted. “Grab towels from the bartender. We need to put pressure on t he wound.”

When Calvin released Grady, he slumped against Conor. He dragged Grady out the front door of the strip club to the car and lowered him into the back seat.

He groaned, every movement sending white-hot pain shooting through his body. The darkness relentlessly pursued him, even though he tried to focus and keep his eyes open.

The car door slammed, then a few seconds later, it jolted forward, his head rolling on his neck as they moved.

Something ripped in his chest, fresh blood oozing from his wound.

Conor cursed under his breath and pressed the towels against his side.

Grady attempted to breathe, each lungful a struggle and insanely painful.

Black dots filled his vision before he slipped int o silence.

He woke to the sterile smell of antiseptic and the steady beep of a heart monitor.

The white light above his head was harsh, too bright, making him squint.

Everything around him—walls, floor, linens on the bed—was stark white.

His throat ached as if he’d swallowed gravel, and his mouth was dry.

He tried to move, but his body was heavy, like an anchor sat on his chest. The pain was gone, replaced by a floating, serene feeling.

It took a minute for his memory to come back and everything to click into place—the trip to the strip club, Chertok going after Caitlin, the bullet slamming into him. He groaned and pressed his hand to his band aged side.

“Grady?”

He turned his head slowly to find Conor sitting in a chair by the bed, deep circles under his eyes. Calvin stood in the corner with his arms crossed and a grim e xpression.

“You’re awake,” C onor said.

“What … what happened?” he asked. His voice was weak and raspy.

Calvin pushed himself away from the wall. “Chertok shot you. You’re lucky it wasn’t worse tha n it was.”

Grady grimaced and shifted on the bed. “How b ad is it?”

Conor chuckled. “You’ll live. The doctor said the bullet missed your lung by millimeters. If it had been a little higher, you wouldn’t be talking to me right now. As it is, you might be sore for a while, but it shouldn’t be long before you’re back on y our feet.”

“What did you tell the doc?” he asked. “About what happened?” He cleared h is throat.

Conor got up, poured water in the small plastic cup, and handed it to Grady, who drank it with shak ing hands.

“I told him you were mugged,” Conor explained.

“I pulled your wallet and cash, made sure you didn’t have any weapons on you before we brought you in.

They bought it with no arguments. We gave the cops a statement, invented an assailant, gave them a shitty description.

I don’t think they’ll look too hard for anybody. ”

Grady nodded, the movement sending a wave of dizziness through him. “How long have I been out?”

“Almost twelve hours. Including the surgery,” Conor said. “The doctor wants to keep you for a couple of days, make sure you don’t have a concussion, and the bullet didn’t nick the lung. It was too close for hi s liking.”

“What about Caitlin?” Grady asked in a ti ght voice.

Conor glanced at Calvin, who tipped his head in a slight nod before he left the room.

“She’s fine,” Conor said. “Walked out of Fred’s unscathed. She wants to see you.”

“Wher e is she?”

“Downstairs. Calvin went to get her,” Conor explained. “She’ll be h ere soon.”

He nodded, too tired to respond. The exhaustion pulled at him, dragging him back into unconsciousness. He closed his eyes and dozed.

When Grady woke up again, the room was dimmer; the lights had been turned down, and the beeping heart monitor was quieter. He blinked a few times, adjusting to the light. Then h e saw her.

Caitlin sat in a chair beside the bed in a too-large sweatshirt with her legs drawn up, her eyes locked on him. He shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny.

“Hey,” h e croaked.

Her lips twitched, and she managed a small, relieved smile. “Hey, y ourself.”

She reached for his hand. Grady squeezed he r fingers.

“You know, that was stupid, what you did.” Her grip tightened, and a single tear slipped down her cheek. “You s cared me.”

“I didn’t mean to, but I couldn’t let him hurt you.”

“You cannot do that again,” she muttered.

Grady snorted. He hated that she worried, but they both knew the life he lived. As much as he wanted to tell her he wouldn’t, there was no way he could make tha t promise.

“You can’t ask me not to protect you,” he whispered. “That’s not even a n option.”

Caitlin rolled her eyes. “You’re so damn stubborn.”

“Not a secret,” he retorted.

She leaned forward and propped her elbows on the bed. “The doctors said you we re lucky.”

He nodded. “I heard.”

“They also said you’ll have to take it easy for a while.” She raised one eyebrow, challenging him to disagree with her.

“That’s not really my thing.”

“Well, it is now. Doctor’ s orders.”

He sighed, closed his eyes, and let his head sink into the pillow. He was too tired to argue with her. “Fine, but once I’m out of here, it’s business as usual.”

“Back to work for my dad?” she asked.

“Yes,” he replied, drawing out the word.

Caitlin nodded, but her lips were pursed, and she wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“Hey?” He grabbed her upper arm, despite the ache radiating from his side—the damn pain meds must have worn off—and tried to drag her closer. She got out of the chair and perched on the edge of the bed be side him.

“This is my life, Cait,” he said. “This is who I am. It’s not the first time I’ve been shot. It probably won’t be the last. Nothing will change. Once I’m healed, I’ll get up and keep going. It’s who I am.”

Caitlin sighed. “I know, but I don’t have to like it.”

“No, you don’t.” He cleared his throat. “Tell me what happened afte r I left.”

She told him everything, including how Moretti asked her to reconsider marrying his son. Grady’s eyes widened, and his hand clamped down on her wrist.

“I said no,” she said.

“Hmm,” Grad y grunted.

“Do you know why?”

He raised an eyebrow and shook his head.

“Because I’m in love with another man,” she whispered. “A stubborn, grumpy, older man who I can never be with because he works for my father and he’s my father’s best friend. It’s a big, complica ted mess.”

“Big mess,” he muttered. God, he hoped that the pain in his chest was from his bullet wound and not something else. He didn’t want to think about the al ternative.

“What are we going to do about it?”

Grady closed his eyes. He couldn’t look at her. “Nothing.”

She tensed, her shoulders straightening. “What do you mean, nothing?”

“We won’t do anything about it, Cait. We’re from differen t worlds—”

“We’re from the same world,” sh e snapped.

He sighed and shook his head. “You don’t want to be with me, and you know it. Not only am I older than you, but I’m stubborn. I’m a fucking asshole. I live a hard life. A life I’m not willing to give up. You’re on the fringe, and it should stay that way.”

“You son of a bitch.” She jumped to her feet and backed away from him. “After everything we’ve gone through, after the shit we endured.”

“You know as well as I do this can’t happen. Whether or not you believe it, we are from differen t worlds.”

“Bull. Shit.” She clenched her fists and glared at him. “That isn’t true. The problem is, nobody trusted me to be part of our world until I was thrust into it, kicking and screaming. Things have changed. I’m not na?ve little Caitlin anymore. Shit, I n ever was.”

Grady tried to sit up, but intense pain washed over him. He grunted and fell back against the bed. “I don’t think you’re na?ve. I never have. And yes, I realize things have changed.”

“Then why d on’t you—”

“ But not everything has changed. I’m still twenty-one years older than you and you’re still my boss’s daughter. Those are two obstacles I don’t think we can overcome.”

Caitlin bit her lip and stared at the ceiling. “Jesus Christ.” When she looked back at him, he saw fresh tears on her cheeks. “Do you love me?”

“That doesn’ t matter.”

“It matters to me!” she shouted. “Answer the question. Do you love me?”

“I care about yo u. A lot.”

“That is not an answer, you … you fucking asshole!” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you really going to do this? Push me away, pretend you don’t love me because of m y father ?”

Grady raised his voice. “Jesus Christ! Why can’t you understand this will not work? Our lives are too different.” He winced as a sharp pain barreled th rough him.

The door to his room burst open, and a nurse stepped in. “Is everything alright in here?”

Caitlin snatched her backpack off the floor. “Yeah, everything is great.” She shoved past the nurse, bumping into her hard enough to push her against the door jamb. She paused, looked back at him, shook her head, and wa lked away.