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“Sophia?” I say, looking down at the blood-soaked floor. “Sophia!” I say, my voice panicking.
“I’m over here,” a weak voice says.
Both Franco and I have managed to put four bullets into Andriy’s chest. He’s dead. Sophia lays beside him, blood pouring out of her as I try to find where she’s been shot.
“Did you get hit?” I say, looking around at Franco, who appears equally bewildered.
“No, but I’m bleeding,” she says, showing me the blood dripping down her legs.
“Sophia?” I ask, but her eyelids close. “Sophia?” I say, trying to shake her awake. “Get us to a hospital now,” I pick her up off the ground and run towards the door with her in my arms.
Franco hangs back for a second before putting two more bullets into Andriy’s head. “This time, he’s definitely not coming back,” he says, putting the gun away.
An hour later, we are at Chicago Memorial Hospital. Sophia is still unconscious, but they won’t let me stay with her. She is rushed straight into ICU, and I haven’t been able to get any information yet. It is only whenone of the nurses asks meif I want my arm to be treated, that I realize that I had been shot earlier. I can’t even feel the pain, everything just feels numb.
“You should have had this looked at before,” the nurse says kindly whilst bandaging my arm.
“I was a little distracted,” I say shrugging.
“Just take an aspirin if the pain persists and make sure you remove the stiches in a week, okay?”
“Sure.”
“Any news?” I ask Franco as he sits in the waiting room with the other men.
“Not since you asked three minutes ago,” he says, continuing to read the newspaper.
“Mr. De Luca?” a voice says from behind me. “Let’s talk in my office.”The doctor says, indicating for me to come to his office.
I follow him, and he offers me the seat opposite him while scanning through his notes.
“Cut to the chase. Is it good news or bad news?” I ask, agitated.
“She’s still unconscious. As you mentioned, she took quite a blow to the head in her er accident.” He says, glimpsing at me through the glasses on the end of his nose, clearly not believing the story I spun him earlier.
“So, no long-term damage?” I say impatiently. He can disapprove of me all he goddamn wants, I just need to know what is going on.
“That remains to be seen, Mr. De Luca. I am sure you are aware Sophia is in the very early stages of pregnancy.”
“What?” I say, taken aback. “How early?”
“Eight weeks.”
“Shit,” I say faintly.
“You didn’t know?”
“No, I didn’t.” Thinking back to when we slept together at Christmas. “Is everything okay with the baby?”
“She experienced some bleeding from some of the stress and trauma as well as the chloroform inhalation.”
“The baby is okay, though?”
“We have to do a few tests, but I warn you it could be possible that this pregnancy might not make it to full-term considering how much damage has been done so early. Physical strain on the mother affects the fetus in many ways so there can be complications, but we’re still in the testing stage.”
“Is there anything I can do? Money is no object,” I say, staring at him.
“We’re keeping her here for a little while to ensure she is hydrated and for further observation. When she is released, she will need to be on strict bed rest for a little while even if there are no complications.”
