Chapter 3

I wake up in a hospital bed.

"Nina—where's Nina!"

I shoot upright. My arm swings out and knocks the soup bowl clean out of Lorenzo's hand.

His face darkens. But he doesn't snap. He just grabs a napkin and starts dabbing the broth off my chest.

I catch his wrist. Hard.

"Where is she. Tell me."

He won't meet my eyes.

My stitches tear open. Pain shoots through me. I don't care. I swing my legs off the mattress and stagger toward the door.

He yanks me back against him. His voice is tight, holding something down.

"She's in surgery. You'll just get in the way."

"When she's stable, I'll bring you to her. Right now, you rest."

For the next few days, he pays for the best doctors in the state. He even sits by my bed himself sometimes.

He shows me a photo of Nina hooked up to machines. Then he tries to spoon soup into my mouth.

I keep my lips shut.

He doesn't get angry. He takes a sip himself, leans down, and forces it past my lips with his own.

I wipe my mouth like it makes me sick. I rip the bowl out of his hand.

He blinks. But he doesn't say anything.

He's being patient with me. Weirdly, unnervingly patient.

Until Sienna comes to visit.

Lorenzo bursts through the door and finds her sprawled on the floor. Cheek red. Palm sliced open on broken glass.

He starts shaking. When his eyes land on me, there is nothing soft left in them.

"Luna. Have you lost your goddamn mind?"

He pulls Sienna into his chest. His eyes go red. For her. Never for me.

"Apologize. Right now."

Old me would already be on the floor.

But Nina is somewhere in this building, and I don't even know if she's breathing. I can't bow to this bitch. Not today.

I don't move.

Lorenzo's face turns to stone.

"Have I been spoiling you? Is that it? You think you get to tell me no now?"

I ignore him. I turn my back and walk toward the bed.

His voice hits me from behind.

"Take one more step. I'll pull the plug on Nina myself."

My feet freeze. Under the hospital gown, my nails dig so hard into my palms they draw blood.

All that warmth the last few days. And I actually let myself believe he felt guilty about her. God. I was so stupid.

The Lorenzo who raised Nina like his own daughter died the day Sienna walked through the front gate.

I turn around.

I bow. All the way down, ninety degrees.

"On your knees."

My legs give. I hit the floor. Press my forehead to the tile.

When I lift my head, Lorenzo has Sienna's face in both hands. He's kissing her. Deep. Open-mouthed.

I keep going. Forehead to floor. Again. Again.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

My voice cracks. My throat goes raw.

They finally break apart. Slow. Reluctant.

Lorenzo scoffs. Scoops Sienna into his arms and rushes her off to the ER.

I stay on the floor.

I don't cry until his back disappears at the end of the hallway.

Then it all comes out. Silent. Ugly.

I press a hand to my chest. It's on fire. I drag myself to the cabinet and dig the leather notebook out from under a stack of gauze.

Two words. My hand won't stop shaking.

Human target.

"What are you doing?"

His voice. Right behind me.