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CHAPTER 15
Max and I are both tense, even though neither of us talks about it. My drink is sweet and familiar, but I’m held back from drinking most of it. The idea that Romeo is in trouble keeps winding its way into my mind.
Watching Max stay on alert doesn’t help put me at ease either. He has drunk slightly more than me, but not by much. We’re both still sober, even though we planned for a completely different type of night. Our fingers circle our glasses as we each hold more than we sip. It’s like my body and mind won’t let me, afraid of the outcome. A horn blaring has both Max and me jumping up. Neither of us hesitates to run outside to see.
The headlights block most details, but I know it’s Romeo.
Max beats me to the door and opens it up. Romeo’s face is a gray-green shade. Blood is smeared over his torso. I have a vision of my mother in a nursing apron calling out orders. I copy what I’ve seen before. “Bring him inside, on top of the island.” I run ahead, clearing off and wiping the surface.
I pour vodka over the wound and have Max turn him over. The bullet broke the surface of his skin in two places, in and out. “I need a needle and thread.” Romeo’s eyes are closed, and I can see the life draining from him. “Call your doctor.”
My heart is pounding, my mind following directions I must have heard a hundred times before. My breathing comes out loud and deep as I concentrate on saving the man on the table.
“He’s going to need a blood transfusion.” His pulse is barely recognizable. The wound doesn’t look fresh. This must have happened over an hour ago. The only thing saving his life is the bullet must not have hit anything important. “Check his pulse again.” You will not die on me.
My hands are steady as I stitch up his side in the back and front. I lose track of time with all of my focus and energy on Romeo. Since the first time I woke up in this house, this feels normal. The chaos of it all is familiar and calming.
When the doctor comes, I refuse to let Romeo go. Part of me believes if I let him go, he will leave this world. My hand stays around his cold one the whole time.
The doctor brings out bags of blood. As the blood enters him, his color becomes more a pale color than gray. “I’m giving him fluids with an antibiotic; it should help. He lost a lot of blood. I’ve seen very few survive this. Honestly, he should have been dead before I got here.”
The doctor leaves, and I’m left standing, holding Romeo’s hand. Ironic that we’ve switched places.
“How about you go clean up, and I’ll keep him company?” I look behind me to Max. Then my hands. They’re covered in blood, and so is the front of me. I would have expected the blood to make me queasy, but it doesn’t.
A tear runs down my cheek at the knowledge that I have a family. This reminds me of them.
“He’ll be okay. Romeo is a tough motherfucker.”
My hand runs down the side of Romeo’s face, and I get the urge to place my lips against his. With his brother in the room, I kiss his cold cheek instead.
