Page 109 of Enforcer

The machine beside me inflates and deflates Dante’s chest. Yesterday, he’d taken breaths over the machine, but today, none.

“Yeah, look at me,” I bite out in reply.

Antonio puts the flowers with the many others. Some are from other families in the city, and some are from those supported by the Ricci family members, who only wish to convey their love and prayers.

“You alright?” Antonio asks, coming up beside me. He rests his hand on my shoulder in silent comfort.

I’m getting increasingly weary and disillusioned by the idea that Dante isn’t going to come around.

It’s been weeks, three to be exact. He should be waking up.

Logically, I know they’re keeping him sedated because of the massive injury he sustained to his head in the crash. They had to alleviate pressure by doing surgery, so they wanted his body to have time to heal itself. Slowly.

The longer I’ve been bedside, the angrier I’ve gotten.

Not at Dante, not even at the Romanos.

At myself.

“Alyssa?” Antonio asks when I don’t answer.

“I’m fine.”

Standing, I walk over to the trash.

My broken ribs argue with me after I toss the ice cream a bit too rough for their liking.

“Why don’t you go get some rest? I’ll stay with him.”

I’ve been beside him since I was discharged. I showered in his bathroom, slept in a chair next to the bed, and ate whatever food the cafeteria would send to his room.

Other than when Brynne and Slate come and bring me home-cooked food.

I’ve been arguing with them about leaving and holding steady in that argument as time passed, but today, I’m tired.

“I think I will,” I whisper. “I’m going to go home and rest.”

Though, I have an antsy energy in my chest as I say the words. It’s as if I don’t believe them myself.

“Good,” Antonio says, face lighting at the idea of being the one to get me to see reason. “Go and get some rest and take time for yourself. I’ll be here and won’t leave until someone else relieves me. He won’t be alone.”

I nod. How do I tell him I’m not worried about Dante being the one alone, though? How do I admit to even myself that I’m concerned about being without Dante when I didn’t want to fall for his stubborn ass in the first fucking place?

“Rest,” I mutter, grabbing my purse. Brynne brought it to me a few days ago in case I decided to leave and return to the townhouse.

“Pauly is downstairs waiting on me; he’ll take you where you need to go,” Antonio says, and I barely hear him as I head for the elevators.

The ride home is filled with racing thoughts and anxious energy that even Pauly picks up on because he asks me if I’m alright nearly fifty times.

I let myself into the townhouse and headed straight for the bedroom.

I don’t run the bath, though. And I don’t get into bed; I do as Antonio told me.

I head to the closet, get my bags, and fill them.

This situation has shown me why I should’ve stayed true to myself.

There’s so much pain needling through my heart and soul that I can barely breathe. I can’t function through it, which is how my mom felt.