When She Falls (The Fallen, #3)(32)
He glowers at me like I’ve just admitted to fucking Gemma in front of her fiancé.
The fuck is his problem? Has he even checked on her to see how sick she is?
“How is she?” I ask as I follow him into the kitchen.
“Fucking awful.” He pulls a cigarette out of his pocket and grabs a lighter off the counter. “We called a doctor thirty minutes ago.”
My pulse picks up. “What happened?”
“She’s been vomiting all night. Cleo said she thinks she saw some blood in her puke.”
My steps freeze.
Garzolo puffs on his cigarette. “We’re leaving tomorrow, and there’s no way we’re delaying our flight.”
Is he crazy? Why the fuck is he talking about his flight when his daughter is as sick as a dog?
“Vomiting blood is serious.”
Garzolo walks over to the espresso machine and starts making himself one. “Only Cleo saw it, and she has a tendency to exaggerate. It’s probably nothing. I have meetings back in the city, so this doctor better give her something to contain this shit show until we touch down.”
My fists clench at my sides. “Is someone with her right now?”
“I would have expected some disaster like this from Cleo, but not Gemma. These fucking daughters. Always one thing after the next.”
The thought of Gemma being alone right now is unbearable. “Garzolo, is someone with her, or do I need to get Valentina?”
He glances at me, taking note of my sharp tone, and his scowl deepens. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”
Fuck this. I spin on my heel and march out of there, not stopping until I’m knocking on Dem’s bedroom door.
To my relief, Vale opens moments later, already dressed. When she sees my expression, her face drops. “What’s going on?”
“Gemma’s sick. You need to go check on her.”
“What? What happened?”
“Last night she started feeling unwell. I took her home. She threw up a bunch, and now they’re saying she might be throwing up blood. I just spoke to your father, and I don’t know if anyone’s taking care of her.”
Vale nods, her lips thinning into a determined line. She brushes past me. “I’m going. Tell Dem when he comes out of the shower.”
Inside their bedroom are a bunch of suitcases. Fuck, they’re leaving for their honeymoon today. I’m supposed to drive them to the airport in—I check my watch—five hours.
I’m pacing their room when Dem comes out.
His brows furrow. “No offense, but you’re not the person I hoped to see here. Where’s my wife?”
“Checking on Gemma.” Quicky, I bring him up to speed. “Her dad’s being a real asshole about it,” I say. “He’s more concerned about his meetings than how Gemma’s doing.”
Dem’s expression hardens. “That's not surprising. Stefano has always been a piece of shit.”
“I’m sorry. I know this isn’t the ideal start to your day.”
“We’ll do whatever is needed to take care of Gemma. Vale won’t enjoy our trip if she’s worried about her sister.”
“I’ll let you get dressed. See you downstairs.”
I go down to the kitchen, make myself an espresso, and sip it while imagining ways I’ll rearrange Garzolo’s face if he doesn’t do what’s right by Gemma. Fuck him and his meetings. If he can’t be bothered to wait until his daughter feels better, he can fly home on his own.
Sometime later, Vale bursts into the kitchen. She looks pale. A moment later, Dem appears behind her and grips her arm.
“What’s going on?” he asks.
Vale turns to him. “Gemma’s not doing well. She’s burning up, can’t even keep water down.” She wraps her arms around herself protectively, her worry clear in her eyes.
I slam my empty espresso cup onto the saucer with a sharp crack. “Did they figure out what's wrong?”
“The doctor thinks it’s a bad bout of food poisoning. For now, he’s giving her an IV to make sure she doesn’t get dehydrated, and he gave her some pills to take for her stomach. She needs a lot of rest. The doctor strongly advised she shouldn’t travel until her fever goes down. My father’s not happy about it.”
“Too fucking bad,” I grind out.
“That’s exactly what I said.” Vale walks over to the sink and pours herself a glass of water. “If the doctor says she shouldn’t fly, I’m not letting her get on a plane. And there’s something else.”
Dem comes to stand by my side, placing his hands against the marble counter, his forehead furrowed. “What is it?”
She takes a sip of her drink before she turns to face us. I can’t remember the last time she’s looked this concerned.
Fuck. I get the feeling I won’t like what she says next.
“Gemma fell asleep right as the doctor was leaving. When I wiped yesterday’s makeup off her face, I noticed a bruise on her cheek.”
There’s a slow pounding in my ears. “A bruise? From what?”
“I don’t know. I asked Cleo about it, but she said she doesn’t know anything. She said maybe Gemma injured herself on a Pilates machine.” Vale looks away from us, her gaze settling on the floor. “Cleo said she hadn’t noticed it until now.”