Page 68 of Volatile Vice

“She’s had a heart attack. She’s been transferred to Austin General. How soon can you get there?”

I look at my watch. “I’m supposed to get on a flight in ten minutes. But don’t worry. Thank God I haven’t gotten on yet. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

I leave my luggage and hurry out of the airport, flagging down the first cab I see. Fred and my car are long gone. I give the cab driver the address and tell him to hurry.

Not fucking fast enough.

The whole ride I’m wondering what happened. My grandfather was just making veiled threats about my mother. I’m sure he has access to drugs or something that could mimic the symptoms of a heart attack.

But is he truly heartless enough to murder his own daughter?

He had Giacomo Puzo killed. A father of two.

Is a mother of three so different?

God, she could be dead. And this taxi driver is going the damn speed limit.

Savannah will be devastated. Should I call her?

No, she’s probably already been contacted. And she doesn’t need to hear from me while I’m freaking out.

Out of my hands.

Everything in my goddamned life is out of my hands, it seems.

My grandfather holds all the cards.

And maybe he’s played the one I never thought he’d have the gall to do.

I jump out as soon as the cab comes to a stop in front of the hospital and run into the emergency room.

“Caroline Gallo?” I gasp out to the receptionist. “Heart attack.”

“Are you family?”

“I’m her son. Vincent Gallo Junior.”

“Of course, Mr. Gallo.” She flags an orderly. “Please find a doctor. We need an update on Caroline Gallo.”

“Yes. Of course. Have a seat, Mr. Gallo,” the orderly says.

“No. I’m not going to sit down. Take me to my mother.”

She gently wraps her hand around my arm, a sympathetic look on her face. “We have to check and see what’s going on first. You can’t just go running back?—”

I break free of her arm and rush through the double doors.

The ER is busy tonight, and several people try to stop me, but I keep going. “Mom? Mom?”

Then I gasp.

Because behind curtain number three is…

My mother.

They’re using the fucking paddles on her.

“Oh my God, Mom!”