Page 107 of Knocked Up by My Dad's Mafia Boss

Ricardo’s fingers brush my arm. “Sam? Are you okay?”

I look at him, giving him a grateful smile. “I’ll be okay if he’s okay.”

“He’s going to be okay,” he says firmly, but I’m not so sure. He hadn’t moved, not even a twitch, after all that time.

After hours, I start to doze off on Ricardo’s shoulder. The doctor comes out. “Family of John Brown?”

I stand up quickly and Ricardo follows. “He’s sustained a lot of damage,” the doctor says gravely, and my heart drops. “He has a concussion. Three broken ribs. His nose is broken. But he’ll recover.”

I sag and Ricardo catches me, one arm around me.

“He’s lucky. And if it were me, I’d tell him to press charges against whoever did this to him.” The doctor gives Ricardo a hard look.

“Can I see him?” I ask, and the doctor nods.

“Room two-ten. He may be a little out of it with the concussion. If he complains of pain, call the nurse.”

I nod, hurrying back to the room. It takes me a few minutes to find the right hallway, but I make it, slowly opening the door.Reese’s got tape across his nose and an IV in his arm but he’s sitting up, eyes mostly clear.

I burst into tears. “Sammy,” he croaks, and holds out his arms to me. I sit on the edge of his bed and he hugs me close. “I’m okay,” he says in a stuffed, nasal tone.

“You sound like you’re underwater.”

“Well, hey, they told me my brains weren’t scrambled.”

“No more than usual.”

He barks out a laugh and then grimaces. “That fucking hurts.”

“You broke a couple ribs.”

“You mean he broke them.”

I go silent, watching his face, tears still streaming out of my eyes. He hugs me tighter. “It’s not your fault. If it wasn’t me, it would have been Ethan.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with him.”

“I do.”

I glare at him. “Don’t you dare defend him. Not after?—”

“I’m not defending him. Not exactly. But… he’s just acting the way I feel when I see Vaughn dancing with someone else. He’s in love with you, Sammy.”

“No, he’s not.” Reese raises an eyebrow and I sigh. “And even if he is, it doesn’t matter. He won’t choose me. Not over Papa. Not over the life. He’ll never choose me and this baby, and that’s all that matters.”

“I”m not saying you should marry the guy. Just that I kind of… understand him.”

“You understand the guy who broke your nose?”

He groans. “When you say it like that I sound like a bitch.”

“If the shoe fits,” I tease, and he smacks me weakly on the shoulder.

“Maybe my brainsarescrambled.”

I stand up. “Can I get you anything? Water? Food?”

His stomach audibly growls. “Burgers. Please. They said I can eat anything I want. I didn’t lose any teeth, thankfully.”