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He’s probably right. A made man walking into the hospital with a bullet hole causes suspicion. The hospital is required to report it, so the police will arrive before Gian even gets out of surgery. This isn’t our first time.
We could have called Doc, a shady veterinarian who’s on our payroll, but he’s shit at gunshot wounds. The last man who was shot died from the fucking infection.
Not Gian, I’m not about to let him die.
“Why’d she bring him here, dad?”
“Not now,” he responds.
“He shot him?” I need to know. What the fuck happened?
“No,” He responds. “They got here right after. It was a hit, definitely one of his, but it seems like he was trying to warn us.”
“You believe that?” I huff.
“I don’t know what I believe.”
Yeah, neither do I.
T
here's blood on the sleeve of my white shirt. I dab at it uselessly, it’s not going anywhere. I knock on the door again, begging for Annue to answer. Then I dab at the blood again.
It’s like a ritual for me. Blood. Door. Blood. Door. Annie.
If I continue doing this it will keep all the feelings at bay. All of the turmoil going through my head. Everything threatening to break me won’t happen. As long as I keep with this ritual.
It makes no sense, but it’s all I have at this moment.
“Gio?” Her voice is angelic, even when her face clearly shows that she doesn’t want to see me. “Are you bleeding?”
I look down at the blood on my shirt. Is it mine? Is it Gian’s? Is it someone else's?
“Come inside.” She touched my arm, it feels electric. Even just the feelings of her hand on my shoulder as she leads me into her apartment and to the couch is soothing.
“Stay there,” she instructs. “I’ll get a washcloth.”
I obey. My head can’t come up with anything better to do even if I wanted to. She’s back in seconds, unbuttoning the shirt and checking for cuts.
“You’re okay.” She sounds relieved. Is she relieved? “Just a few scratches.” She wipes at the blood on me with a wet cloth.
“What happened?” The question comes out as a whisper.
I look at her now, her ocean blue eyes are filled with worry. She must’ve tied back her hair when she went to get the washcloth. She’s wearing short pink pajama shorts and an old East Providence high school t-shirt.
I squeeze my eyes shut. I need to bring myself back to reality, back to my body. When I open them, Annie is still here, Gian is in the hospital, and Gemma is god-knows-where.
“Someone shot my brother.”
Her face changes quickly showing me a panicked look. “Is he okay? Where is he?”
“Yeah,” I scrub a hand down my face. “He’s fine, he’s at the hospital getting stitched up. My dad is with him.”
“Okay.” She exhales a rush of air. “What happened?”
I meet her eyes again. “Do you really want to know?”
Her breath is sharp as she thinks it over. “Yes.” she finally answers, nearly a whisper.
