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ELEVEN
RICARDO
* * *
Iwake up on my back. There are shadowy figures above me, nothing more than light spots in the darkness. I blink several times and they start to come into focus. I can make out Albert, holding a blood bag high in the air. It’s half-empty. There’s a long tube running down from it toward me, attached to the inside of my wrist.
Next to him is the doctor we call when it’s really serious. Edward North. Drunk most of the time but still a better surgeon than any hospital could provide. Diego’s here. He’s looking down at me like he’s about to read the last rites.
“Am I dying?” I ask.
“Not if I’ve got anything to do with it,” Edward says. “You haven’t paid me for this job yet.” He sticks a needle in my arm, pushing down the plunger. “Keep still.”
“How bad is it?”
“You lost a lot of blood getting out of there but I’ve managed to get a couple of pints back in you. If I can stop the bleeding, you should be good.”
“Can you stop it?”
“You’re still talking aren’t you?”
I know what he means. If I’m conscious again, my odds of survival went up.
I don’t feel any pain. I’m guessing he’s just shoved a shit load of morphine in me. I lay back and let him work. He’s got a needle and thread like I’m a couch that’s split open, stuffing coming out.
He’s concentrating hard and all I can smell is the whiskey fumes on his breath. Then my own blood. The iron rich scent hits me hard as I drift away again. I blink hard. I don’t want to pass out. Do that and I might not come back. I need to stay around long enough to get Alessandro.
“Stay with me,” Edward says. “Talk to me. Tell me what happened in there.”
“A fuck up happened.”
“Tell me. Describe it.”
“We were talking. I was asking where Don Colombo was. Alessandro was wasted. No, I just thought he was wasted. All of a sudden he sticks me and his men are reaching for their guns. He was already coming again but he sliced something deep. One of his men had my gun off me. It was all coordinated. All planned out perfectly and I didn’t see any of it coming.
What about these two assholes?” He motions toward Albert and Diego.
“They got me out of there before the Colombos could do any more damage. Dragged me back here and I’m guessing they called you. I don’t remember coming in here.”
“You called Kelly,” Albert says. “Soon as we got out. Lost about a pint of blood already and you were calling her, telling her to get down here where you could keep an eye on her in case they went for the house at the same time as sticking you.”
“Where is she?”
“She’s right here.” He turns and looks behind him, frowning as he looks back at me. “She was right here. I’m guessing she went to the bathroom.”
“Find her.”
There’s no need for him to move. I’ve no sooner got the words out of my mouth when the door to the club opens and Kelly comes running in, blood splattered on her face, gun in her hand. Her eyes are wild as she skids to a halt, looking across at us all.
“What did you do?” I ask, thinking I already know the answer. I’m starting to get to my feet but the doctor is fighting to keep me in place.
“I shot Alessandro,” she replies, dropping the gun to the ground, looking at it like it’s a snake that might bite her.
“Shot as in hurt or shot as in killed?”
“I killed him.”
“You’re certain?”
