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"You should get some rest." I hear Adriano's voice filter into my ears as my eyes remain on the hospital room door.
I shake my head, "I want to see them."
He kisses the back of my hand, "After they finish taking care of them. That'll take some time and in the meanwhile, you can get some sleep."
"Or..." I trail off, eyes transferring to his gaze, "You can tell me what happened. Who took you?"
He sighs and leans back in his seat. He'd gotten a chance to freshen up after the babies were delivered and taken to the NICU. I know premature babies require extra care in that little area but I want to see them past a simple glimpse when they were cleaning them off.
Rather than argue because he knows where that will get him, he bites the inside of his cheek, "Gianna and Alessia were behind everything." I resist the urge to say anything until he finishes his entire thought, "They sent the threats, took the pictures of us, sent the shooters."
My brows furrow as he says nothing else, "So Dean wasn't a part of it?"
He shakes his head, "All he wanted was to be a part of the family. Hell, he even took a bullet for me."
My brows almost kiss my hairline, "What?"
"Yeah, jumped in front of me. It clipped his shoulder but of course, he acted like he got shot in the ass."
I can't help the small laugh that escapes me, "Of course." A second passes as I take Adri's hand into mine and bring it to my mouth to kiss his rough palm. His hands have seen pain, felt the tears that come with grief. Yet, here they are, in mine.
I sniffle as I avoid his gaze, "I don't know what I would've done if you didn't walk in when you did." I twist my mouth to the side as tears flee my ducts, "Thank you for coming back to me."
Leaning forward, he presses his forehead against mine, eyes closed as he quells his own tears, "Nowhere I'd rather be."
Brushing the pad of my thumb against his cheek, I press a kiss to his lips, "Good. You have no other choice."
"Hope I'm not interrupting anything." Dean's voice makes me close my eyes in a bit of annoyance and a bit of gratitude. Opening them, I set my gaze on him — he's dressed in a hospital gown, his injured arm held in a sling as the other is over his heart.
He has a sheepish look on his face, eyes darting between me and the hallway he stands in, as if he's unsure about what to do.
Adriano smiles as he spares a glance at his half-brother, if he even claims him as such yet.
I decide to set the tone, "Surprised you're walking already."
Dean shrugs with one shoulder, "An apology to you — both of you — was worth it."
