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“If I have to tell you one more time, Davide, I’m going to break your fingers.”
He took a step back and nodded. “Right, yes sir. I’ll take care of it.”
He turned and ran off. I watched him go before climbing into the front seat of the car.
The girl was trying to sit up. She glared at me, a hand over her wounded shoulder.
“What are you doing?” she asked. “Where are you taking me?”
“Somewhere safe,” I said. I took my phone out of the glove compartment and started flipping through the contacts. I stopped when I reached the number for Dr. Chen, and sent a message.
When that was done, I started the engine and took off. Luca could get a ride with Davide and Aldo. They’d regroup and meet up with me later.
Right now, I had to take care of this girl.
I don’t know what I was thinking. I could’ve called an ambulance and left her there. I didn’t have to take her, and I could still drive her to the emergency room, shove her out the door, and leave her. That wound didn’t look like it was going to kill her, and she wasn’t bleeding so bad that she’d die anytime soon.
But as I drove back to my place, my phone buzzed.Chen: How bad is the patient?
Me: Gunshot. Shoulder.
Chen: I can be at your apartment in five minutes. Hold a towel against the wound until I arrive.I tossed my phone onto the passenger side seat and drove fast, the wheels of the SUV kicking up water as I took a corner hard.
This was a stupid, needless risk. I looked at the girl in the rearview mirror and she was sitting up, slumped to the right side, holding a hand against her shoulder. She was sweating, breathing hard, and glaring at me like she wanted to rip out my heart.
But fuck, she was beautiful. I couldn’t just leave her there or throw her out in front of the hospital. I had to make sure she was going to be okay.
Nobody else was supposed to get hurt. That bodega was normally empty. We’d been scouting out that hit for days, preparing for it, making sure it wouldn’t blow back on us, making sure there’d be no collateral damage. This girl was a mistake, a stupid mistake, and I was going to make it right.
No matter what, I’d make it right.2ColleenI woke up and stared at a white ceiling for a long moment, confused and disoriented. I took a deep breath and felt a flare of sharp pain in my shoulder, followed by a dull, aching throb. I sat up on one elbow and stared around the room.
I was lying on a large bed, wide enough for two more people. There was a simple end table with a clock sitting on top that said 6:55 in glowing red numbers. I groaned a little and looked at the wooden wardrobe, the set of drawers, and the chest at the foot of the bed. The walls were a grayish blue color, and simple black and white landscape photographs hung on the walls.
There was a door at the far side of the room, standing slightly ajar. I thought I could see a tile floor and a mirror hanging on the wall. There was a closet next to that door, and another door on the wall to my right. That was shut tight.
I let out a groan then fell back onto the bed as the night before came rushing back.
I remembered going out to the bodega around the corner from my apartment. I was bored, a little lonely, and I wanted some ice cream because I couldn’t sleep. I’d been out at the bar with Tracy and only had one drink before leaving early. I figured I’d buy a pint, eat half of it, and watch The Office until I passed out.
But then there were gunshots. I heard shouting outside. The glass shattered. And something knocked into me, not painful at first, but quickly blooming into a sharp screaming fissure in my shoulder. I staggered back, knocked over some shelves, and dropped to the ground.
That’s when he arrived. Square jaw, bright blue eyes, dark hair. He frowned at me and I could have sworn he was a movie star. I thought I was hallucinating, or dreaming, or about to die and he was the vengeful angel sent to drag me up to heaven or something like that.
Instead, he picked me up, carried me to his car, and took me to his house.
I couldn’t remember much after that. The rest was a blur of him bringing me inside… and then a couch, or maybe a bed… and another man, whispering soothing words. He gave me a shot… and then nothing after that.
I touched my shoulder and winced. It took me half a second to realize I wasn’t wearing the same shirt from the night before. It was a man’s white t-shirt, too big for me, but not so enormous that I was swimming in it. My shorts were the same, although there was a brownish splotch along the front, which was probably a bloodstain. The shirt was gone, and I felt a chill run down my spine.
