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Because I was not paying attention, I grunted in pain when a burning sensation emanated from my right shoulder. I cursed and ducked. Tom had taken advantage of my lack of focus to shoot me, but he missed and got my shoulder instead.
When I glanced around the crate I was hiding behind, I saw Tom get hit by a stray bullet on his arm, and I took aim and shot at his leg. He went down on one knee, struggling to get up, and I took aim and fired at his other leg. He collapsed to the ground. Another bullet left my gun and lodged itself into Tom’s only functioning arm, causing him to drop it.
This was it. This was the end.
I made my way over to Tom, grabbing him by the hair and dragging him up.
“Abbastanza!” I shouted loud enough and held the barrel of my gun against his head.
Slowly, the gunshots slowed, and everyone still alive looked in my direction.
“It is over!Sopra!”
I could see Tony and Marcelo looking at me with pride in their eyes before it morphed into fear at something behind me.
I didn’t even turn back. I acted on pure instincts and fired the gun. If I went down, I would take Tom with me. A second later, my body jerked as a bullet ripped through my abdomen.
I gasped in pain and let go of Tom’s dead body. I heard a gunshot but couldn’t focus on where it came from as I fell to my knees. My vision was blurry and starting to form black dots. I had been shot in the shoulder before, and now I had been shot in the abdomen. The amount of blood I had lost must have been quite a lot.
I could barely hear anything over the buzzing in my eyes.
“-ssandro…-sandro…-dro…”
I could distantly feel myself being manhandled. I opened my eyes slowly to see Marcelo and Tony’s faces above mine. Their mouths were moving, but I couldn’t hear a single thing. They looked terrified, and I wondered why. Didn’t I kill Tom?
There was no time to think about anything else as my blinking slowed before they closed, too heavy to open again. Before I was welcomed into the arms of oblivion, one last thought flitted through my mind.
Aryana.
Chapter 29
Aryana
Twoweeks.
Two weeks had passed since Tony and Marcelo returned with an unconscious Alexander, covered in his blood. It’s been two weeks since Alexander promised me everything would be all right, since he promised he would come back. Technically, he didn’t lie. He did come back. Just not the way I had expected. It’s been two weeks since I last heard his voice, Since Alexander was last conscious.
I missed him. I missed his voice. I missed his smiles and his grins. I missed seeing his gray eyes. I forgot how warm his embrace was. I missed the feeling of his lips on my body. I missed everything.
To think that his last words to me had been to reassure and comfort me, and I couldn’t even tell him that I loved him. That was right. In watching over his prone body for the past two weeks, I came to the realization that I did, in fact, love Alexander. I couldn’t believe it had taken him falling into a coma for me to realize my feelings.
How had I been so blind? Why had I continued to doubt myself? I knew I loved him, but I had been afraid. Now, I have to ask myself what I was scared of but didn’t know the answer. What made it so difficult to tell him I loved him?
Now, it was too late. I wasn’t even sure if he would ever wake up. I was filled with regret.
Regret was there to invite us to view past events through different perspectives than the ones we had at the time, in the moment's action. This creative perspective grew our emotional intelligence and gave us greater maturity.
I could have done so many things differently. I would have handled many things differently if I had known it would end like this.
I sighed and leaned back in my seat.
We were in our room. Alexander was lying on our bed. His wounds had been cleaned and bandaged. The doctor Tony had brought over had spoken about how much of a miracle his survival had been. Any longer, and he could have died due to blood loss.
After the surgery, the doctor reassured us that everything was well with Alexander and that his vitals were good, but he needed rest.
For two weeks, he had been resting. No matter how often the doctor checked Alexander, he would always announce that his condition was good and that he would soon wake up.
At least there was no more war. Tom Saconne was dead. Alexander killed them. The Saconne family had no heirs left to run the family, and in the end, their territory had been plucked and divided amongst the four mafia families, with the Romano family getting the largest share. At least, that was what Tony and Marcelo had informed me.
