Page 2 of Sweet Revenge

“Sorry,” I muttered. “Definitely not my choice.” I wrapped Daemon’s free arm around my neck as Drake hoisted him up to standing. Daemon’s head lulled to the side, and his legs refused to bear his weight. We essentially dragged him inside that way.

“I can’t believe you did this, Elisa,” Drake told me as we fumbled with the door and the bleeding body. “You’re a real piece of shit for dragging me into this.”

My eyes widened as I digested that statement. Drake had always been the only brother I could ever stand, the only one that was nice to me. Our other brothers, Alex, Jace, and Deacon, were assholes who wanted to be just like our father. Drake was as different from them as could be. The only one of us who had managed to escape in any sense of the word, I always hoped that Drake and I would both be able to find a way to break free from our asshole father and his syndicate. To hear Drake accusing me of bringing him back into it stung.

But then, his words weren’t false. I had involved him by bringing my father’s biggest enemy here for him to treat medically. I didn’t have any choice, though. Letting Daemon die wasn’t an option.

We managed to get Daemon inside and on a gurney that looked like it had seen better days. Glancing around the clinic, which wasn’t quite ready for business yet, I could tell Drake definitely wasn’t funneling any family money through this place. All of the equipment looked like it had been cast off from real hospitals decades ago. The space was clean and the renovations, which weren’t quite finished, made it look modern and welcoming, but my brother was going to need some more investments to make this place successful.

Those were concerns for another day. With Daemon on the bed, Drake got to work. “Let’s see what we’re working with here.” He grabbed Daemon’s bloody shirt and ripped it away, revealing the Kevlar vest that was the only reason Daemon could still draw in shallow breaths. “Jesus,” Drake muttered. “Two bullet wounds. What’s the point in wearing a fucking vest if it doesn’t protect anything?”

“It kept that one from hitting him in the heart.” I pointed to an indentation where Raven’s bullet had been kept from hitting her mark. Still, I had to agree. It might be time for some better vests.

My brother only shook his head, switching into full doctor mode. Apparently, I was the nurse. “Grab that tray over there,” he said, heading to the sink to wash his hands and put on gloves. As he scrubbed, my brother gave me a stern warning. “Listen, Elisa, I don’t have everything I need to do this properly. Nor do I have the skill set it takes to do it right. This is going to be a messy shitshow, so be ready for that.”

I cringed a little as I grabbed the tray of rudimentary tools he’d pointed out to me. This was definitely different than it would be with a real surgeon. I’d seen my father bring in old quacks to cut bullets out of his asshole capos a hundred times, and even those senile old men had better equipment than this.

“Just save his life, Drake. Please.” I met my brother’s gaze as we both returned to Daemon’s side.

“I’ll do what I can, Elisa. For you. But I can’t promise anything.” My brother’s eyes bored into me until I found myself nodding.

With a deep breath, Drake removed the vest, revealing the two bullet wounds. My heart leaped into my throat, and I gasped at the sheer amount of blood Daemon had lost. Amazed that the man was still breathing, I did my best to mentally prepare for what was going to happen. Drake was about to inflict the worst pain on Daemon that anyone ever had, and that was saying something, I was certain. My mind went back over all the suffering I’d undergone at the hands of my own father, and I recoiled, knowing this would be a hundred times worse than even the hot sauce seltzer combo up my nose. How was I going to stand here and watch this unfold? I didn’t know, but I’d have to find a way. More than ever, Daemon needed me to be strong. He’d saved my life more than once. The least I could do was be strong for him now.

As Drake picked up a scalpel and moved toward Daemon’s chest, I took a deep breath and reached for his hand.

CHAPTER2

DAEMON

Molten lava burned throughout my chest, and every time I inhaled, the fire spread further, radiating across my shoulders, into my arms. Staying focused on the sound of Elisa’s voice helped to keep me centered, preventing me from slipping into oblivion completely. Part of me wanted to fall over that edge, to just drown in the abyss. But if I allowed myself to take that route, the chances of me ever opening my eyes again were slim to none. So I fought.

And then the pain intensified to the point that stars filled my vision, and I realized something had changed. “What the fuck?” I growled blinking rapidly as my arms shot out, a defensive move.

I made contact with a wall of muscle, which aggravated me even more. Who the fuck was holding me down? “Get the hell off me!”

“Daemon.” Elisa’s disembodied voice hovered somewhere near my left ear. “This is my brother, Drake. He’s here to help you.”

“Get away from me, asshole.” I tried to push him off again, but I had no strength left. The only thing I remembered about Drake was that he’d snuck into my house once, when I was keeping Elisa as a prisoner. Of all the La Rosa brothers, he was the least threatening, but whatever the fuck he was doing made me want to rip his face off.

“Hold him down, Elisa,” his deep voice said. “I’m not going to be able to get the bullet out if he keeps moving around.”

The bastard was trying to dig a fucking bullet out of me? Where the hell was the anesthesia?

“Where the fuck are we?” My voice sounded foreign to me. Groggy. Full of pain.

“We’re at Drake’s clinic, but it’s not finished yet.” Elisa’s face came into focus—sort of—right above me. I could see her blue eyes and tried to keep them in my field of vision. “Listen, he has to get the bullets out of your chest, and it’s going to hurt like hell, but it has to happen. So can you try to stop moving, please?”

Even now, when I felt like I was dying, she was calm and reasonable. That was my girl. “What happened… me?” I couldn’t even form a complete sentence.

“You got shot.” Elisa smoothed my hair back, her cool hand feeling like heaven on my sweaty forehead. “But we’re going to fix you up.”

I knew I’d gotten shot. They’d said bullet and gunshot about a thousand times. I just couldn’t remember how it had happened. Who had managed to get the jump on me?

Once again, I felt a sharp pain in my chest and realized the doc must be using a scalpel to get the bullets out. I had seen my own doctor do similar operations on other sweaty, bleeding, blubbering men and knew that I didn’t want to look that weak in front of Elisa. I needed to get my shit together.

The next wave of unbearable pain had the world going sideways again, and I felt myself slipping away. This time, it didn’t matter how badly I fought it. My grip on reality slipped away, and I went tumbling backward into darkness.

Only it wasn’t dark. I was back in the bakery. I could see myself standing in front of the display counter, staring at the cakes like some kind of a fucking moron. It goes to show that the first time I do something nice in my life, I get myself ambushed.

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