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Giovanni
PLAYLIST: ? DIE HARD - KENDRICK LAMAR FEATURING BLXST & AMANDA REIFER ?
Zoe Peronne died shortlyafter she opened fire at my resort pool. My men were quick to move in, putting seven bullets in her, but that was after she succeeded in her kamikaze-like mission—exacting revenge on me.
I’d never given the woman a second thought. Almost a year ago when she rushed out to stop us outside the Beaumont Hotel and begged for mercy as we hauled off her husband, Tommy, I’d glanced in her direction and then ordered one of my men to keep her in line. Tears had streamed down the mousy woman’s face, her thick glasses and drab clothing like Tommy’s in that way—the couple was surviving hard times.
I hadn’t given a shit. Tommy had almost attacked me at Rosenbaum’s party. He was going to suffer consequences.
One day you’re going to pay for the shit you’ve done. Karma’s going to hit you real hard for the shit you’ve done—the families you’ve torn apart.
Boy, was Tommy right.
Except the karma hit me in the chest. Three times.
I’d had to make a snap decision. Zoe hadn’t been aiming for me. She’d been aiming for Falynn.
As she appeared at the pool in a server uniform and pulled out her gun, I saw the subtle shift in her gaze. Practically read her mind as she sought to make Tommy’s words ring true—make me pay for what I’d done to her husband and her family. What better way than to hurt not me but my family?
I’ve been shot before. Once, many years ago when I was starting out in the family business I was shot in the arm.
This doesn’t compare. I slip away to the sound of hysterical cries and sirens wailing.
I’m rushed to the nearest hospital in the city. Doctors perform an emergency operation on me to remove the bullet fragments from my chest. As it turns out, Zoe Peronne had excellent aim; one of the bullets came half an inch from striking my heart.
Everybody always talks about a bright light when you almost die. There is no bright light—after almost dying twice, I’m practically an expert on the subject.
What nobody tells you about is thedark. Hours of nothing except the prison that’s your mind confining you as your body fights to survive. The concept of time ceases to exist. Seconds, minutes, hours all become the same.
There’s the sounds that go off around you. Sounds you can’t place, though vaguely recognize at certain points. In the dark, when you’re blind and unconscious, they arrive out of the black void and echo in your ears.
Sirens. Screams. Hurried footsteps. The drone of machines. The composed and clinical voices of doctors compared to familiar cries driven by emotion.
Sound becomes all I know for a while. Sounds against the darkness. Consciousness only reaches me in broken pieces I can barely remember as soon as I’m out. Everything else is blank, dreamless sleep for however long time passes.
I wake when my body and brain allow for it. A murkiness lingers as I lie still and peer at my bright surroundings. I’m in a hospital bed, tucked neatly under a blanket, hooked up to beeping machines a few feet away.
My chest aches when I breathe, like my lungs might collapse any second.
Zoe Peronne fucked me up good.
I scan the room right to left, certain I’m alone. In the far corner, curled up in a straight-backed hospital chair with her head propped up against the wall, is Falynn. I open my mouth to speak, but my voice is gone. A primitive grunt leaves me.
The sound’s so different than the beep and boop from the machines that she jerks awake, eyes wide and startled.
It’s only as more seconds pass by and we’re still staring at each other that it seems to register this is real and not a dream. I’d get up and meet her halfway if my body didn’t feel like it’s been run through a grinder and glued together again.
Which means I can’t do shit except lie still and watch.
Falynn appears to me like the most fucking beautiful angel imaginable—the light from the hospital window halos her as she comes up to my bed, and a relieved smile brightens her face.
“How are you feeling?” she asks. Her hand falls to my forearm, cautious and gentle. The throaty grumble I give is the best I can do. She grabs a cup of water from a nearby tray and feeds it to me slowly. “Better?”
I nod, savoring the cool liquid sliding down my parched throat. “Very.”
She serves me a little bit more. “You’ve been in and out of it for the past two days. I’ve set up camp in the corner over there, waiting for you to wake up for real.”
“Best nurse ever,” I choke out. My voice is gravellier than asphalt. I reach out for her, my hand wrapping around hers to pull her closer. “I know what else will help.”
