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I tense, trying not to cry. “If he needs blood, I can give him some.” We learned after Enzo needed blood that since I’m O negative, I can give blood to anyone. It doesn’t matter their blood type.
“No,” Beckett says. “I won’t put you or the babies at risk.”
I stroke his face. “I don’t think giving a little of my blood would be putting me or the babies at risk.”
Beckett frowns though, not liking it. “Let’s get through the worst part first; then we will see if I need blood.”
“What’s your blood type?” Enzo asks.
“A negative,” Beckett says.
“I can give him blood. I’m the same blood type,” Enzo says.
My eyes flicker back and forth between the two men. Still, neither of them has admitted out loud that they know the other is his brother. Now probably isn’t the best time.
“I’m going to give you some morphine to help with the pain,” Enzo says.
Beckett nods and doesn’t even flinch as Enzo inserts the needle into his arm and pushes the drug in.
“The drug will probably take a few minutes to kick in, but…” Enzo can’t finish his sentence.
Beckett chuckles. “But you can’t wait, or I’ll bleed out and die. I know. Don’t act like you aren’t going to enjoy this.” Beckett picks up the saw and hands it to Enzo.
I can’t hide my horror. I know if we leave Beckett’s arm attached he will bleed out and die. Or it will get infected, and he’ll die slowly, even if we can stop the bleeding. I’m not sure how amputating his arm will reduce the blood loss, but I know his arm either needs a very skilled surgeon to try and stitch it back together, or it needs to be amputated. But I can’t imagine the pain he will feel. And not just the physical pain, the emotional loss of an arm.
Enzo grabs a tourniquet and wraps it around the undamaged upper part of Beckett’s arm.
I can’t watch. I’m not strong enough.
But I can’t leave. I’m not selfish enough.
“What would the woman of your dreams do in a situation like this?” I ask Beckett, mirroring how he behaved when I was in the hospital, and Enzo wasn’t there.
“She’d flash me her boobs and give me a lap dance.”
I laugh, and we both look up at Enzo, who is barely keeping his anger under control. He’s stiff, red, and practically chewing his bottom lip off.
I smirk at Beckett, knowing he just said that to get a rise out of Enzo. But to Enzo’s credit, he doesn’t say anything to Beckett.
“Seriously, though?” I ask, needing to be here for Beckett. He is my brother-in-law, after all. And he risked his life to save mine and Enzo’s. I owe him everything.
He sighs. “Hold my hand. Tell me how much she loves me. Distract me.”
I nod and grab the hand that isn’t about to get chopped off as I stroke his face.
“Are you sure?” Enzo asks, his voice strong and steady. There is no hesitation or resistance. He’s strong enough to do this.
If it were Beckett’s life rested in my hands and required being able to drive the saw into his arm, I don’t think I could do it.
“Get it over with, man,” Beckett says.
I grab Beckett’s head and turn it toward me and away from Enzo, while I silently pray the morphine or adrenaline has kicked in, and Beckett won’t feel this.
Enzo drives the saw into his arm, and the scream from Beckett is something I’ve never heard before. It’s guttural, torturous, and all consuming.
I wince and blink back my tears as Beckett continues to scream and twist his head, but tries to remain still on the table.
I grab Beckett’s head again and turn him toward me. Doing what he asked of doing what the love of his life would do if she were here.
