Bed of Bones (A Sloane Monroe Novel, Book Five) Read Online Free PDF

bombs were set off?”
    “All we know is that they were close-controlled.”
    “I’m sorry…what?”
    “Whatever device was used, it had to be relatively close to the theater in order to achieve the desired effect.”
    “I see,” I said.
    Carlo stopped. He faced me. “You don’t have any idea what I’m talking about, do you?”
    “Not really. I’ve never dealt with a bomb before.”
    He cupped one hand about six inches over the other like he was creating an invisible replication of the explosive device. “Shrapnel is placed inside of the pressure cooker. A lot of times they use a combination of gunpowder and nails, anything made of metal that is capable of inflicting the maximum amount of injuries. All of it is stuffed inside the pressure cooker and secured with a tight-fitting lid. The idea is that when it explodes, it will cause mass injury and death to as many people as possible. Because most people were sitting at the time of the explosion, the majority of injuries we’re seeing are from the waist up.”
    “Any idea how many fatalities?”
    “We don’t have an exact body count yet. Three confirmed dead. They’re still trying to account for everyone who was there at the time.”
    “I’m sorry about Lucio.”
    He shrugged. “I knew him, but not like my brother did. He’s lost friends before, but not like this.”
    “I’m just glad Giovanni is alive.”
    Carlo turned and pointed. Positioned on both sides of the door to Giovanni’s room were two men I didn’t recognize. Both dressed in black, both bald, both looking like bouncers at a high-end nightclub. Carlo behaved as if the men weren’t even there. The men stood, stiff like statues—one looked left, the other right. Neither looked at me. Carlo slanted his head toward the door then stepped back.
    “You’re not coming in?” I asked.
    “I think it’s best you see him alone. I’ll be here if you need me.”
    I nodded and walked inside, pushing the door closed behind me like the room contained a baby I didn’t want to wake. I was skittish, but I didn’t know why. For a time I stood still, wondering what I would encounter when I regained my nerve long enough to round the corner.
    What would he look like?
    How bad was he hurt?
    I stepped forward, the heel of my boot clacked along the vinyl floor, giving me away.
    A hand reached out, firm and masculine, reeling the curtain back. “Nurse, I need you to bring me—”
    “No, Giovanni. It’s me.”
    He looked like he wanted to shield himself behind the curtain again.
    “Sloane…I…you shouldn’t be here.”
    Shouldn’t be here?
    I had every right to be there.
    Most of Giovanni’s body was covered with a thin, blue blanket, but his arms were exposed. They were hacked up, cut like someone had taken a blunt razor blade, slashing him numerous times. Positioned over his left eye was a thick piece of gauze with some clear tape over it. I walked to his side, choking back the tears. I didn’t want to stare. I tried to look away, focus on anything else, but I couldn’t. “Your eye, is it—”
    Not one to mince words, he captured my hand inside his. “Gone, yes. I didn’t want you to see me this way.”
    “What…happened?”
    “It doesn’t matter now,” he replied.
    “It does to me.”
    “I don’t want you involved in this.”
    “It’s too late. I’m here, and I am.”
    “I’ve spoken to Carlo. I’ve asked him to take you out of here—somewhere safe.”
    Funny, Carlo hadn’t mentioned it to me.
    I released his hand, drew a chair from the corner of the room, and sat next to the bed. “Why? What’s happening?”
    “I can explain more later. Right now you need to trust me.”
    “I won’t be shipped off to some random location, especially when I don’t understand why I’m going there in the first place.”
    “There’s no point in arguing with me,” he said.
    “I’m not—we’re talking.”
    “I must insist, Sloane. You will go. The arrangements are being made now.