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“Never, baby.”
His voice sounded rough, and I could feel a slight tremble in his frame. I pulled myself back and took a real look at him. He was in pain, which meant he was hurt.
“You’re hurt,” I said as my eyes scanned him.
He had to bruise on his face; I suspected it was underneath his shirt. It was then that I noticed his shirt was wet. I looked down at my own and saw red splotches on my own white shirt.
“Oh, my god,” I said, as my hands began to shake as I reached out and lifted his shirt. The blood might not be his. It was possible that he wasn’t bleeding, and the blood on him and now on me was from killing Dominic or the guards. My hope was crushed when I saw the blood running down his sides.
“I’m ok,” he said, trying to offer me what comfort he could, but that wouldn’t work.
“Is that a bullet hole?” I asked, unable to take my eyes off of it.
“Get on the bed,” Gabriele’s voice broke through, and I completely forgot he was even here.
“I’m alright,” Armando tried, but Gabriele didn’t have it.
“Get your ass on the bed. We have to patch you up so we can get the fuck out of here,” Gabriele said with urgency to his voice. He then grabbed what I suspected was a first aid kit.
“Come on,” I said, turning Armando and guiding him over to the bed.
I got him to sit down before I helped him remove his shirt. Gabriele came over with some towels. He laid them down on the bed before we got Armando to lay down. He had a bullet wound and a couple of slashes from what I assumed was a knife. The bullet wound was right above his right hip. I had no idea if anything important had been hit.
“It’s a through and through,” Gabriele said as he first looked at the bullet wound.
“Is that a good thing?” I asked, as I went and took Armando’s hand within mine.
“Yes, it means the bullet isn’t still in me and you won’t have to dig it out. It’s also closer to my side, so no organs would have been hit,” Armando explained calmly. I think he was far too calm, considering that he had been shot.
“I just need to clean and stitch the entrance and exit wounds closed to stop him from bleeding. I’ll then clean and stitch the cuts, and he will be good to move. When we get back to New York City, then one of our docs can check him over,” Gabriele explained as he got to work.
I continued holding onto Armando’s hand and tried to watch Gabriele, but all the blood was making me nauseous.
“Hey, look at me,” Armando said, and my eyes snapped up to him. “Keep your eyes on me and not what Gab is doing. You’re looking a little pale, baby.”
“It’s just the blood. I’ve never been very good with it,” I said with a shaky breath.
“It’s ok. I’m fine. I know it looks bad, but I’ll be ok. Once Gab has finished patching me up, we can get out of here, and within the next five hours, we will be in New York. Tomorrow we can get you in to see a doctor and get the tests done that you need. You won’t need a fake ID with Dom dead, but we still can if you prefer.”
“No, if you think I’ll be safe using my real name, I would prefer to. I know it’s not safe right now, but eventually, I would like to come back and get everything sorted. My apartment emptied and my personal belongings.” There were items there from my mom that I wanted to keep, and it would be nice to have my own clothes.
“We can do that. I can also have someone come down and empty your place and bring it all to New York for you to go through. That way you don’t have to worry about coming back. We could even make some calls and have your mom transferred over to a cemetery in New York as well,” he offered.
“I didn’t even think of that. That would be really nice. I normally go and see her once a week. I’d really like that,” I said as tears built in my eyes.
“I’ll make the calls tomorrow and get the ball rolling,” he said warmly.
I couldn’t believe that all of this was actually over. I would start my life and get ready to have this baby. I was going to be free and do whatever I wanted. A bright smile spread across my face. I was free and couldn’t wait to see what the future had for me.
Epilogue
Armando
Six months later…
“That’s it, baby, you’re doing great,” I said as Natalie squeezed the hell out of my hands.
She had gone into labor very late last night, and now we were in hour fourteen and our little one was finally ready to come out. These past six months felt like a dream to me. When Natalie agreed to return to New York with me, I suspected she wouldn’t want to live with me. She would want her own place, but I was glad that she wanted to live with me and have me be in her child’s life. All of this felt surreal to me, and sometimes I still expected that I would wake up and all this wouldn’t be real.
