Page 35 of Mafia Heiress
We make our way back into the hallway retracing our steps until we come to the landing to climb down the steps. Shouts scream from below and I’m pushed to the ground before the shooting starts.
Ciro has me pressed to the ground, a hand on my shoulder. I kick him off me, and reach into my ankle holster to pull out my spare. Thank you Dante for insisting I wear it.
I push off Ciro’s hold and stead my aim. From the ground I can get the ones below that are closer to the railings. I pop off five shots taking down two of the men. One in the forehead, his brain splatting on the guy behind him, but before he can act I have him shot through the heart.
“What the fuck?” Ciro asks, looking down at me. There’s blood pooling on my side. I didn’t even notice the pain until I see the sticky redness soaking my t-shirt.
“I must have gotten grazed. It’s no big deal. Let’s keep moving,” I say, pushing past both of the scowling men. I reach the bottom step before my legs buckle. I’m grabbed in two large arms.
Dante’s stare lights up my soul as I accept his help to the outer door. Sirens blare in the distance, and before I can ask what happened with the Vitucci brothers, I’m thrown into the back of an SUV and heading for the highway.
“Did we get them?” I ask, trying not to bleed out all over the place.
“One. The other got away,” Dante says, as he rips at the gauze with his teeth. He picks up my shirt and examines the wound with a clinical eye.
“Watch what you’re doing,” my father says, turning in the passenger seat.
“I was a medic in the Marines,” Dante says, not even giving my father a second glance before he begins to clean the wound. “It’s a graze. You need a few stitches. I can do them at the house.”
He pats the area down and takes another gauze out of the bag and presses it to the wound. I hiss out in pain and bite my bottom lip. Being shot hurts like a motherfucker.
“Please tell me we’re stopping soon. I can’t ride like this to the neighborhood,” I say, holding in my tears. Every twist and bump of the street makes me want to jump out of my skin.
“No time to stop. You heard the sirens back there, principessa. We’re safer when we’re on our own turf,” Ciro says, swerving to avoid a bump in the road.
I lean my head back on the seat and accept Dante’s comfort. He draws slow circles on my calf and something stirs in my stomach. I let out a breath of relief and he grips my outstretched hand.
“We’ll be there in no time. Try to sleep, it will go faster,” he says, continuing to help me to relax.
Even with all the pain in my side, I drift off into sleep.
* * *
I waketo the sound of a new voice. One I’ve heard before, but don’t immediately place. It’s timber, dark and soothing, something that has my body alive with emotion.
“Get her on the gurney,” he says, and I feel myself lifted up.
“Ah,” I call out, going to clutch my side, but hands keep me from reaching it.
“Don’t. Your hands aren’t sterile. We don’t need an infection.”
I crack my eyes open to find the incredibly handsome doctor who helped Annette staring down at me. A pen flashes in my peripheral and he slowly guides it toward my eyes making me flinch.
“Where am I?” I ask, my throat dry, feeling like sandpaper.
“Underground bunker. Secret medical facility.”
I try to turn my head to find my guys or my father, but the room is empty. For a moment, fear rushes through me, but then the doctor steadies my face in his light touch.
“You’re okay. The guys are just outside. Your father is being treated for his minor injuries, but we need to get you into surgery. The bullet might have grazed you, but it went deeper than originally thought.”
“Surgery? You can’t do that here. Take me to the hospital.”
I thrash on the bed trying to free myself, but his body hovers over mine, not touching but still in my space. His eyes light with something like excitement before I still.
“I can and I will. Now be a good girl and stay still. This will be over before you know it.”
He slips something into my IV and all I feel is a wave of darkness come over me. There’s also an intense feeling reassuring me that even if I don’t know who this doctor is, he’ll take care of me.
