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She gives a little shrug and winces when the movement pulls at her wound. “It’s what we always drink on holidays. Guess I’m used to it.”
I shoot her a wry smile. “You don’t like the taste of beer, but you can handle this.”
“?uicait is,” I murmur, pouring her a couple of fingers.
We usually drink it in shot glasses, but this might require a bit more.
I place it in her hand and watch her take a gulp. She sputters a little but swallows it down. I drop the kit on the island and lay out the instruments. Turning toward the sink, I scrub my hands thoroughly and don a pair of gloves. Hearing the snap of the latex against my skin, Star hurries to take another gulp of the liquor. I tear open alcohol wipes and clean off as much blood as possible between her hisses and mumbled curses.
Grabbing the sanitized needle, I take the needle driver and pull the thread out of the suture kit.
“I’ve done this many times, baby, so you have nothing to fear,” I say, using my most soothing tone as I press the edges of the deepest section of her wound together to test them. Blood oozes out and Star whimpers.
“You’re so brave, you know that?”
Staring into her eyes, I say, “I need you to pick a spot off my left shoulder and focus on it, precious. Think you can do that for me?”
“Yeah,” she replies hoarsely as she does what I ask.
“Good, baby, good. I’m going in,” I warn her as I push the needle through the skin at a 90-degree angle, stopping just short of the fatty layer of flesh. She takes in a sharp breath but holds herself still.
“Everything’s going to heal just fine,” I say, talking to distract her. “No scar, apart from this small section. Just gonna stitch this up fast…” I twist the needle counterclockwise so the needle comes out straight across on the other side of the wound.
I pull it out and say, “One down.”
Despite her initial anxiety, the way she’s handling this proves that she’s perfectmafiewife material. I may want to protect her from the violence embedded in my life, but at least I won’t have to hide it the way I know some men do from their wives.
“How is it you’re not angry with me?” she asks with a long shuddering exhale as I pull the needle through again. “I thought you’d be furious.”
“I am furious, but my anger is of no use here.” I hit my chest a couple times. “It’s locked up tight, to be taken out and used later. After you’re all sewed up and healed.” My eyes gleam as they skate over her. “Then we’re going to have a good little session for your disobedience.”
A shudder ripples through her and she bites down on her plump bottom lip.
“There’s going to be a war, isn’t there?” she asks, tears welling up in her eyes.
Her bottom lip trembles. “Because of me.”
I poke another hole in her skin. “No baby girl, not only because of you.”
“You’re lying.”
I pull the needle out, loop it in again, piercing her skin a third time. She pants beside me, bravely absorbing the pain.
“Told you already, I don’t lie. A war was brewing. The Bratva were planning to take someone out. Luca, Nicu, you, one of their wives… You know the honor code. Revenge upon revenge.” I shrug lightly. “It’s a never-ending cycle.”
I finish a couple more stitches, then wrap the thread around the tip of the needle holder twice, tie a simple overhand knot, and flatten the knot against her skin before doing a second and third knot to make certain its secure. I snip off the excess thread. It drifts down to the terracotta-tiled floor.
“There,” I say, taking out an adhesive bandage to cover her wound. “It’s done. Let me clean this up and we’ll go back upstairs.”
Once upstairs, I help her dress in a pair of sweats and one of my tank tops, since it’s looser and won’t rub against her covered wound. Tucking her in, I sit down on the edge of the bed and hand her a glass of water and a painkiller.
“Thank you,” she says. “For this. For sewing my up.” Her voice lowers. “For saving me. I know you’re mad at me for leaving. I was angry and acting out, but more than anything I guess I just wanted things the way they used to be. To go home with my friends on the subway like I did every day.”
“Those days were over, even if we weren’t engaged. You openly defied me, Star. That can’t stand.”
Tears well up in her eyes again. I know she’s overwhelmed, but I need her to understand.
“Can’t you just let me go?” She grabs my hand and presses the back against her cheek. Her eyes look at me pleadingly. “Pleeease.”
