My wife was typically vibrant, full of life. Now, her broken body was so eerily motionless that if it weren’t for the steady beeping of the heart rate monitor, I would have a hard time believing she was still alive.
Dropping onto the chair at her bedside, I gathered up one of her hands in both of mine, kissing it gently.
“I’m so fucking sorry.” My voice cracked as I issued that useless apology. It wouldn’t do a damn thing to fix this fucked-up mess, because the truth was that nothing could bring our baby back or allow me to give her another—not that the one we’d lost could be replaced.
I wasn’t sure how long I sat there—my head dropped to the edge of the mattress while I waited for Allie to regain consciousness so I could drag her into this waking nightmare with me—but at some point, my phone began to vibrate in my pocket.
Sitting up, I pulled the mobile device out, ready to decline the call and put the phone on silent, when the name listed on the Caller ID gave me pause.
With a frown, I swiped a finger across the screen, pressing my cell to my ear. “Gemma? What’s wrong?” Though my voice remained quiet, it was full of urgency.
“Enzo.” She sounded out of breath. “It’s all over the news that someone broke into your house and shots were fired. Are you okay?”
I dragged a hand down my face. The fucking media was a pain in my ass. They were obsessed with my family due to the rumors that we had ties to organized crime. I could only imagine they would have a field day with a story that involved the police commissioner’s daughter as the victim of violence occurring at my residence.
So help me God, if I saw even one reporter roaming these halls . . .
Swallowing, I rasped, “I’m fine. But Allie—“ Damn, I couldn’t even say it.
All business, my big sister asked, “Where are you right now?”
My eyes darted around the sterile room. “The ICU at Windy City General.”
“Give me an hour to pack, and I can be up there before dinnertime.”
Though she couldn’t see me, I shook my head. “Gemma, you don’t have to do that.”
“Of course, I don’thave to. But you’re my little brother, and while we don’t have the closest relationship, when I’ve needed you most, you’ve shown up. So let me do the same for you. It’s only a three-hour—“
The piercing wail of an infant cut off her words, and a knife slid into my heart at the sound.
“Shit, sorry. He’s hungry,” Gemma explained, referring to my three-week-old nephew, Chase. “Might need a little more than that hour I initially promised.”
Pulling in a ragged breath, I spoke as I released it. “Gemma, stay in Indy. Take care of your family.”
“But you’re my family too,” she began to protest.
“While the gesture means more than you could ever know, I’ve got things handled here.”
Gemma sighed. “Enzo, I get that you’ve been conditioned to believe that Bellini men are so tough that they don’t need to accept help from others, but everything Dad taught you is bullshit. It always has been.” She could say that again. “I know what you’re going through, and I wouldn’t have survived Sasha’s hospitalization if it weren’t for the support of our friends. You need someone there to take care of you so you can focus on Allie.”
What she said made sense. I was barely keeping it together, and that was before Allie woke up and I had to deliver arguably the most devastating news a person could hear.
“Matteo was here with me all night. He only went home to shower and is coming back with Summer soon. I’ve got people looking out for me,” I assured her.
A hum came through the line. “You’ll let me know if anything changes?”
“Promise.”
We said our goodbyes and hung up. Then I went back to keeping watch over my heavily sedated wife and dreading the moment when I was forced to blow her whole world apart like mine had already been.
“She’s still out?” Matteo’s voice asked from the open doorway.
“Mmm.” I nodded, my eyes never leaving Allie. “The doctors say they’re giving her body a few days to heal, but she’s still going to be in a ton of pain when she wakes up.”
Footsteps moved in my direction, and a gentle hand landed on my shoulder before Summer spoke. “Enzo, I know words don’t mean much right now, but I’m so sorry.”
Placing my hand atop hers, I gave it a gentle squeeze. “Thanks.”