Page 13 of Sweet Revenge

“I’ve got it.” She gave me a look that said I’d better not try to get up again. Reluctantly, I fell back onto the bed and let out a sigh.

With my eyes closed, I listened to her shuffling around the kitchen, humming a jolly tune. It was nice that she could be so upbeat. I, on the other hand, felt like I was lying at death’s doorstep. Maybe it was time to give in and take the damn medicine.

Staring at the ceiling, I thought about how kind and good Elisa was. She didn’t have to be here making me breakfast. She could’ve left me bleeding on the bakery floor. I would’ve been dead in less than half a minute if she hadn’t come in when she did. Raven would’ve taken the kill shot, and no amount of will to live would’ve prevented my brains from splashing all over the tile.

Elisa was a good person, though. Not only had she risked her life for me that day, rushing into a bakery where she’d just heard gunfire, but she was taking care of me now. Not out of obligation but because she wanted to. For god’s sake, I’d put the woman in a dog kennel. Now, she wanted to make me breakfast?

While it was true that I had someone else prepare my breakfast almost daily, that was different. Those people got paid to wait on me hand and foot. Elisa was here because she wanted to be. It wasn’t as if she wanted something from me, either.

Well, that wasn’t exactly true. She did want something. But it wasmeshe wanted. My heart, my soul. She wanted to spend her life with me. I wasn’t sure what to think about that. The last girl who’d thought she wanted that had been too young to know for sure. Even if Jenny had lived, there was no way to know we would’ve spent our lives together, though I’d spent some time over the years imagining what it would be like for us now.

Elisa was a grown-ass woman who knew what she wanted. The fact that she still wanted me, after seeing every aspect of my life, every pure, raw, unfiltered aspect, told me she was either fucked in the head or way too good for me. Maybe both.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like the idea of spending the rest of my life with her. Especially if we could find a way to disentangle ourselves from this fucked-up world and run away together. What if we did that? I was certain she had let those fantasies play out more times than she could count. I wondered where we lived in her made-up world.

“Breakfast is served.” She brought a tray in and set it aside so she could carefully help me sit up. I hoped I hadn’t actually popped any stitches because that would complicate my recovery. For now, I was able to sit with about the same amount of pain as lying down. She set the tray across my hips, and I thanked her.

Elisa came around the bed and sat next to me, taking her plate off the tray. She picked up her fork and took a bite of egg. “Not bad,” she said, nodding while she continued to chew.

I picked up a piece of bacon and took a bite. Crispy, but still a little chewy. “Nice. You’re a pretty good cook.”

Her smile was genuine. “Thank you. I never got a chance to practice much growing up since we had people to cook for us. But my mom would cook sometimes, and she always encouraged me to help her because she said I needed to be prepared to cook for my family.” A hint of sadness filled her eyes with those last few words.

I wanted to ask her about her mother, but I avoided the conversation. Her mother had died the night we’d met, and it wasn’t by coincidence either. I continued to eat, thinking the eggs were pretty good, too, though a little saltier than how I typically ate them, but they were good, and I ate them quickly. Thankfully, she’d put quite a bit of food on my plate.

When I was finished, I felt a lot better. Setting my fork down, I said, “I think we should go home.”

Elisa giggled, but then her face went serious. “Wait. You’re serious? No.”

Her response was quite dismissive. “What do you mean no?”

“Absolutely not. We’re not going back. You need to heal.” She set her fork down and put her plate on my tray. Without another word, she got up to clear the breakfast dishes.

“But I have work to do,” I called after her.

“Work that can wait.” Her voice carried from the kitchen where I could hear her putting the dishes away.

I pushed off the bed, intending to go show her I was fine, but I couldn’t get up without another bolt of pain shooting through my shoulder. Maybe she was right. “Fuck.”

“Hey, whatever it is, the people we left behind can take care of it,” she said, returning to the room. She sat down by my hip.

I shook my head. “The whole world could burn while I’m gone.”

“Well, then let it. You’re in no condition to stop it.”

“I can’t plan what we do next if I don’t know what’s going on,” I reminded her.

Letting out a sigh, she got up and found my pants. Pulling my phone out, she handed it to me. “Call your brothers.”

It was a good idea. They were the only people I trusted in the world. I pressed the right buttons to get Dezzy on FaceTime, and he answered right away.

“There he is,” he said with a smile. I could tell something was bothering him, though. Maybe he was trying to fill my shoes while I was gone. “Where are you?”

“We went away for a few days while I heal up. What’s going on?” No need to give him any information someone could torture from him.

“Oh, you know. Same old same old. Leo’s lost all of his power. Someone else is leading his crew now. They got a little pissed when we stole all their money.”

“Yeah, I bet they did,” I said, hoping they killed the bastard.