“A man’s been stabbed… we’re just outside the Clifton Avenue soup kitchen…please hurry!” She pressed her free hand against the wound on his stomach as she watched his eyes gaze up into the snow falling from the skies.
“Wanted to kiss you… to chase the shadows from… your lovely eyes…” Angelo murmured drowsily as he stared up at her. Then his dark lashes fluttered and his eyes closed.
“Mr. Vertucci! Stay with me!Angelo!”
Please don’t die… please…
Chapter Two
Kara kept her eyes on Angelo, one hand on his abdomen where he’d been stabbed, trying to keep pressure on it. Blood oozed between her fingers and her vision swam. She had never been good with blood.
“Stay on the line, ma’am.” The 911 dispatcher’s voice was calm, and Kara was grateful. “Is he conscious?”
Angelo’s eyes fluttered briefly as he struggled to stay conscious. Her stomach knotted with a panic so intense that she almost passed out. He couldn’t die. Not on Christmas… not for her. She wasn’t worth dying for.
The dispatcher’s voice cut through her spiraling panic. “Ma’am? Are you still there?”
Kara felt him breathing even though his eyes were open but glassy. “Yes. His eyes are open… and his breathing seems even.” But hers sure wasn’t. She was shaking all over.
“Where is he injured?”
“Lower abdomen?” That sounded about right.
“Is the blood dark or bright red?”
“Uh… Bright red.”
“Good. Can you put your phone on speaker, and keep pressure on his wounds? If any of his organs are showing, do not touch them or try to put them back inside.”
His organs?
Kara flinched at the thought of Angelo’s organs falling out, but she couldn’t see anything except his blood soaking his sweater, thank God. She couldn’t have handled that.
“Can you tell me what you see on the wound?”
“I think the man just stabbed him, like puncturing him rather than slicing,” she clarified. She replayed the moment over in her mind, positive that was what she’d seen.
The dispatcher gave her more instructions, which she followed. The squeamish part of her that had panicked about touching his wound had turned off. She went into autopilot to do what had to be done, while the rest of her stayed focused on Angelo’s face.
He stared up at her, concern and confusion present in his expression. His gorgeous honey brown eyes would be her undoing.
“Stay… with me?” he asked, his voice so soft she almost thought she’d imagined it.
“I’m here…” she said breathlessly. “I’m here, Angelo. I’m not going to leave you.” The words caught in her throat. She’d been left alone when her mother died… she wasn’t going to leave him.
Church bells rang in the distance, their beautiful sound contrasting the bloody scene in the alleyway.
Sirens could be heard in the distance and in a matter of minutes an ambulance pulled up in front of the alley. Two paramedics rushed toward Angelo, and she fell back on the snowy ground to give them room to work on him. They spoke quickly to each other and to Angelo. She started to shake so violently that she couldn’t focus on what they were saying.
“No…” Angelo murmured in response to something one of them had asked.
“Just hold on. We’re going to move you to a stretcher,” one of them said.
They returned to the ambulance and pulled the stretcher out. It took less than a minute for them to lift Angelo onto the stretcher and strap him in. Then they raised it up, ready to roll it to the ambulance. One of them turned to her as if suddenly remembering she was in the alley with them.
“Ma’am, are you hurt?”
She studied her scraped palms. She was a bit banged up, but she was fine. “No, I’m okay.”
