’Volcan... Dive into those two and see what you can find.’
’Keep them under surveillance for a while. I have a feeling they haven’t told us everything.’
It went without saying that the authorities wouldn’t go around telling everything to random civilians. McCawsky and his muscly friend didn’t seem too high in the police hierarchy, either, so it might be that they didn’t know much themselves. That said, Dante still hopes to learn something by snooping around.
As he watched them leave, he was about to lie down once more when something caught his attention. Someone was peeking their head from the entrance of the room. They hid away when the officers passed, then peeked again soon after. Squinting a little, Dante quickly learned who they were.
There weren’t a lot of people who would know about him ending up in a hospital, and that list certainly didn’t include him. Dante figured it was Victor’s doing right away, and that caused his anger to spike a little, bringing with it a pang of pain caused by his rising blood pressure. Noticing his glare, the unwelcome visitor froze for a few seconds then walked over with his head hanging down.
Finn stared back at him, his lips tightly shut. After some time, he turned to the chair left behind by one of the cops then sat down, placing his yellow gym bag on the floor.
"Victor sent me. Said to check on you."
Having checked his inbox soon after waking up in that shitty hospital, Dante knew he hadn’t received any messages of significant importance. He was under no illusion that his fixer had yet to figure out what happened so he was expecting to hear from him soon, but not in this manner.
"Well, go ahead and tell him I’m doing fine." Heaving a sigh, Dante lay back in his bed, using his right arm to make up for the terrible pillow. He waited a few seconds, and when he sensed that the boy hadn’t left, he opened his eyes and turned to glare at him. "You waiting for something?"
Finn averted his gaze, struggling to regain his courage before returning the glare.
The boy gritted his teeth.
"You aren’t just messing with me, right?"
"If anyone is messing around, it would be you." Dante scoffed. "Stop being a pain in the ass."
"Then... what the hell was all of that?"
"I have no idea what you’re talking about."
The nonchalant response didn’t sit well with the boy, spilling more fuel on his already heating anger.
"You ditched me at the kindergarten, then you got me stuck with your fat buddy. And you didn’t show up since!"
"Chill, it’s barely been a day." Sighing, Dante closed his eyes and tried to relax again. "If you can’t tell, I’m kinda going through a few things right now."
"It’s been three days!" The outburst echoed through the room, silencing the chatter that had filled it up to that point.
Dante didn’t respond, remaining silent until the embarrassment set in, forcing the boy back into his seat.
"I asked Boris to give you stuff to do."
"You already met Victor, too. Didn’t he give you a job or two?"
Since he had praised the brat’s diving skills in front of him, Dante was almost convinced that the fixed would try and test him one way or another to learn how useful he could be. That alone should have kept him busy for a while, but from the looks of it, that didn’t work out.
"He asked me to steal some data here and there," Finn mumbled, still keeping his head down.
"... yeah, it wasn’t that hard." Pausing, he then added in a clearer voice, "There is this crew that needs a good Diver. Victor said he could get them to give me a spot, but I turned him down."
"... and that’s why I call you an idiot," Dante heaved a long sigh.
If he had to be honest, he was a little angry. It took him months of doing solo work before the fixer recommended him to his last crew, but here he was rushing a brat with no experience toward the bigger gigs.
Divers, and especially good ones, were always in demand. The brat could double as a Gearhead as well, so it’s only normal that crews would be falling over each other to get him on board. Still, Dante couldn’t help but be frustrated.
’Geniuses.’ He gave a dismissive snort. ’I fucking hate them.’
His reaction to the news didn’t amuse the boy, going by his expression.
"I’m not looking for work, you know?" He said. "We’re supposed to take care of... my business first. I don’t want to busy myself and keep delaying it."
Exasperation rose from the depths of Dante’s heart, bringing with it a very strong desire to go on a rant. Finn was in luck today, however. With the condition his body was in, just breathing the wrong way sent a spark of pain through Dante’s nervous system, forcing him to remain calm.
"You’ve been looking for your father’s gun all this time, right?" Dante asked. "Then why’s the rush? Can’t you wait a little more?"
"Jaws isn’t going anywhere, you know? We get only one go at this so we have to do it right."
The words were starting to leave a bitter taste on Dante’s tongue, probably born from the hypocrisy of his preaching. He keeps talking about taking things slow and preparing well, but he keeps digging a deeper hole for himself with all the rash actions he takes. Maybe if he followed his own advice from time to time, he wouldn’t end up in a hospital bed every other week.
"I... I have waited for too long..." The boy mumbled after a short silence. "If this keeps up, I..."
Whatever his reasons were, they appeared serious enough to make him tremble just from thinking about them. Watching him for a while, Dante turned his sights to the ceiling, his expression becoming unreadable. For some unknown reason, Hanna’s visage surfaced in his mind, bringing his thoughts back to the dream he had the previous day.
"Your dad..." The words slipped from his mouth, and he was asking the question before he knew it. "What kind of beef did he have with the Daggers?"