“No,” said Spade. “She should stay. Anglotti may want to talk to her, and he said he’d be by once he booked the two assholes.”
“His family should know,” piped up Gloria.
Oakie snarled when Gloria spoke. “Yeah,” he said with a dismissive rumble. “That’s why Saks made Luke his contact on all his papers.”
“Hey,” said Gloria, raising her hands. “You don’t know a thing about Saks’ family.”
“You’re right. Because he didn’t want to have anything to do with them.”
“Gloria,” said Chrissy. “Just give it a rest. If it wasn’t for us, or his family, Saks wouldn’t have a bullet in his shoulder right now.”
“Still—” said Gloria.
“Leave it, Gloria. For once in your life, just listen,” said Marcus. “I’ll be right back.”
The two bikers paced while Chrissy sat, miserable and worried sick about Saks. When she faced her grandfather, she’d have some choice words for him.
The two bikers on the opposite side of the room wouldn’t stop glaring at them.
Marcus strolled back into the waiting room and sat next to them. “I called your grandfather,” he said quietly. “He’s furious.”
“Furious,” snapped Chrissy. “Why? Because those goons didn’t finish the job?”
“It’s not like that, Chrissy,” rumbled Marcus. “He didn’t send those guys.”
“Right. You told me—”
“He didn’t send those guys. He’s making a call to Saks’ uncle and letting him know what happened.”
“That’s gutsy. Or incredibly stupid.” Chrissy crossed her arms and glared at Marcus.
“No. It’s necessary. Better Vits hears it from your grandfather than the streets.”
More leather-jacketed men entered the waiting room and spoke to Oakie and Luke in hushed tones. Some of them glanced toward Chrissy, Gloria, and Marcus with undisguised curiosity and contempt.
Half an hour later, and with a great deal of noise, her grandfather, father, and mother entered the waiting room.
Immediately after them filed in another group of people. The only one she recognized was Vits Rocco, Saks’ great-uncle. There was a man and an older woman and a younger woman who crowded to the Spawns’ side of the room. Chrissy stared at them. The man had the height of Saks, and the same kind of face. But the nose and the eyes of the woman marked her as Saks’ relative as well. This must be his mother and father. And the girl? She had a more feminine version of Saks’ face. She must be his sister.
They spoke with Luke and then glanced at Chrissy. She wanted to fade into the wall she stood against and possibly to the depths of Hell to hide. It was her fault that Saks was hurt.
“So sorry to hear about this,” rumbled her grandfather.
“Chrissy, are you okay?” asked her mother.
“Yes, yes, of course. We came in after—” All of a sudden, tears welled in Chrissy’s eyes. This was impossible. She was worried, frightened, and angry as hell. Chrissy trembled, wanting to explode, but all that came out were tears.
Her mother wrapped her arms around her. “There, there,” said Maria Serafini. “I didn’t know you cared about him.”
“Care?” snapped Chrissy too loudly. Suddenly all eyes in the room were on her, but she paid no attention. “Why should I care? He’s just another piece on the Serafini game board, just like I am.”
“Christina!” growled her father in warning. He glanced over to Vits, who looked away.
“No! I won’t stop. This was entirely ridiculous, this whole thing. And now Saks is in surgery, having to literally fight for his life!” She pushed her mother away and straightened. “There’s one thing I will never do. And that’s to have anything to do with you or the Roccos ever again.” She spun around and started for the door when a doctor entered.
“You all the family of Anthony Parks?” He seemed pretty surprised.
You could hear a pin drop as the three different factions that held sway over Saks’ life waited for some someone to come forward. It was a Rocco who did.