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I look up to see everyone staring at me. Everyone except Nico. Because he’s unconscious. Unconscious and probably going to die, just like Rook…
I shake it off. I need to get my shit together, fast. “How’s Nico?” I ask, turning to Jazz. Honeybee is crying silently, the tears just streaming down her cheeks as she sits there, making tracks through the blood on her face.
“Not good, Cap. He’s lost a lot of blood.”
I nod, feeling a sense of urgency wash over me. I need to take control of the situation. I’m Capo, I remind myself.I’m Capo. And these are my people. “Not conscious?”
“Not since a few seconds after he got shot.”
“We’re here!” Pony shouts over his shoulder, as the hospital comes into view.
I start giving out orders—get the wounded out and into the hands of professionals, let the doctors do their work, although I can see Tank’s not going to leave Giddy’s side. But they need to hear it from me so they shake off this sense of unreality that’s settled over us all.
“Is Rook going to be alright?” Honeybee sobs, just as Pony brakes hard in the emergency bay. I don’t know how the hell to respond to that. Surely she doesn’t think…?
Thank God for Max, who intervenes. “Your job is to get Nico into the emergency room, okay, Honeybee?” He leans in, drawing her attention. “We all focus on our jobs right now, everything will be okay.”
It’s the most blatant lie I’ve ever heard, but it seems to work, to break through the shock that has her in a dream. Honeybee nods fast, and then the doors to the back of the van are flying open, and Tank lifts Giddy in his arms, shouting, “Need some help here!”
Someone in blue scrubs runs out, then yells over their shoulder, something about a stretcher.
I turn back to Max. “Max, can you…can you take Rook away from here? I don’t want them to…”
“Of course. Where should we take him?” Max asks, and I have no answer. “Pony and I will take him back to the Lair,” Max suggests quickly, watching over my shoulder as more people in scrubs start appearing.
If they get any closer, see inside the van… “Yeah. Take him home.”
“You go on, now,” Max urges me. “Stay with your crew.”
I hope he knows how fucking grateful I am. I can’t stand thinking of leaving Rook alone and cold in the hospital, no friendly faces around him, strangers looking him over.
Judging him.
It’s me they should be judging.
“Thanks,” I spit out, and then I clamber out of the van after my crew.
* * *
It’s a long time later before I make it back to the Valley. The smell of blood and death is heavy in the house as I walk in. I stop still for a moment when I see that Max and Pony have laid out Rook’s body on the table, lying on the old quilt we used to have on the beat-up sofa, and covered head to foot with a sheet.
I keep walking, trying to swallow down my anguish, but I feel like a beaten dog. Van comes in behind me. It took all of Anna-Vittoria’s hefty influence to keep the hospital from calling the cops on us, and the two of us are still covered in the aftermath of the botched heist, soaked in blood.
Rook’s blood. I’m soaked inRook’sblood, while he lies there unmoving under the sheet on the table.
“Thank fuck you two are back,” Pony says anxiously, rushing over. “What’s the news?”
“Giddy will be alright,” I announce, trying to find some semblance of reassurance in my own words. “But Nico…” I have to stop, swallow down my sob. “Nico’s unconscious still. They said…well, it doesn’t look good.”
Max, ever the stoic, just nods—but Pony swears loudly, slamming his fist into the wall. A hole is left behind, but none of us pay it any mind.
“The Maestra’s at the hospital,” I continue, my voice cracking on the kid’s name. “Max, you and I are going to the Villa tomorrow to debrief.”
Van’s eyes narrow. “Why does the Castellani get to go with you?”
“It’s not a fucking social call, Van,” I say tiredly. I go over to the quiltless sofa and sit on it. The blood on me is long dry, and the sofa will get destroyed soon enough anyway.
This house is no more use to us. We’ll raze it after we clear it out.
