My entire body bounces on the bed, and the force wakes me up.
“Carmine? Are you finally coming to bed?” I wish I could say I know what has gotten into me, but I want his presence. He’s terrifying, but it’s the last thing I feel when I’m with him. And if I’m ever afraid, it isn’t because I’m afraid of him.
I’m afraid of how good the bad in him makes me feel.
It’s addicting.
“Carmine?”
“Not Carmine.” Arms slide under me and bring me against a foreign chest, but I know the voice.
“Matias? What’s going on?”
“I’ll explain later. We need to move. Now.”
There’s a stranger in my room, a guy closer to my age, but he follows us out the door. A loud crack rings, and I scream, ducking my head as the gunshot echoes.
“Carmine!” I scream for him, but he doesn’t answer.
“He’s fine. He has this under control.” Matias enters what looks like a guest bedroom and rushes to the closet. He presses a button on the shelf, and the back wall opens to a huge, steel room. He sets me down, and I walk into the room, the stranger behind me and then Marie. Matias enters last. He closes the door behind him, turning the silver wheel until six bars slide into place.
One wall is made of screens. Matias presses a few buttons and the security footage pops up, showing the house from different angles. I can see the endless backyard, the miles of trees that would be great hiding places. The front gate isn’t open, and the garden seems unbothered, but gunshots crack the air; I can hear them through the steel.
Matias points his gun at the door. “I want you all to stay behind me at all times.”
“What is going on?” my voice quakes. “Where is Carmine? Why isn’t he in here with us?”
“Because he is the boss, and he never hides. The Romanos are coming back for their toy; no offense, kid,” Matias says to the stranger next to me.
“Offense taken,” he mumbles. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know they would come for me. I didn’t think they cared. Maybe if I go with them, they’ll leave.”
“Not a chance. You’re worth more here. Sorry, Ryan.”
“I’m Delilah.” I introduce myself, not wanting to come across as rude when he’s obviously been through so much. “When we get out of here, I’d like to look at your eye. It’s swelling fast, and I might need to decompress it.”
“How?” He flinches when he touches it. “How would you know how?”
“I’m studying to be a doctor,” I explain, watching the screen, looking for any sign of Carmine. I see a flash, and my gaze drifts to where the garage is. Sparks flash white across the screen, and I cover my mouth to hold back my gasp when I see someone go down then don’t move or get up again from the cement floor.
I press my hand against the screens and watch men run across the yard, Carmine leading the way. He lifts his gun, firing until the clip is empty, then reloads. Matias presses a few buttons and the screens change to the cameras inside the house.
“What are you doing?” I yell. “We need to see if they’re okay. Switch it back!” I slap his shoulder.
He covers my mouth with his hand and points to the top right screen. “Do you see that?” he whispers, showing me a broken window. “Someone is in the house. Be quiet.” He flips through the angles of the cameras, trying to find the one that shows where the intruder is, and when he finally lands on it, he stares at the door protecting us. Matias lifts a finger to his mouth, telling us to be quiet. Ryan, the new guy, grips my hand without tearing his gaze from the screen.
They are in the guest bedroom.
“They have to be here.” The volume on the TV is so low I can barely hear it. “They couldn’t have gone far. There’s a cigarette in the living room still burning.”
I cover my mouth with my hand to keep from screaming. My heart is thudding against my chest, and bile is working its way up from my stomach when I see the intruders creep into the closet.
Matias is at the ready, aiming his gun at the door.
“No one can get in without scanning their approved fingerprint,” he whispers. “And it’s bulletproof steel, but just in case—” He cocks his gun, the barrel pointed directly in front of us.
They whip around, and that’s when I see men coming in through the front door, Carmine leading. Gianni is carrying someone, but I can’t tell who. Carmine runs down the hall, and the intruders lift their guns, getting ready to fire. When Carmine bursts into the room, firing without hesitation, the gunmen drop.
“I don’t give a fuck if you know there’s no one left, Victor. Check the house again and again and again!” Carmine roars, rushing to the panic room. The door clicks, the steel wheel spins, and the bars release from the wall. The door isn’t done swinging open when I hear Carmine call for me.
“Delilah? Delilah! Are you okay? Talk to me, Sweetling.” He rushes into the room and is on me instantly, checking my entire body for injury. His hands skim my legs, arms, and stomach. He checks me everywhere. “Are you hurt?” He cups my jaw, and he wipes away the tears.
He has blood all over him. There are splashes of red against his cheek. His white shirt is stained, reminding me of spilled wine. Both his hands are bleeding, the skin of his knuckles raw and open.
“I’m okay. I’m fine. Oh my god, what happened? Carmine, so much blood—” It’s my turn to look him over, but he takes my hands and kisses them.
“It isn’t mine. I’m fine, but it’s Ari. Matias—he’s been shot. We don’t have time to take him to the doctor. We have backup blood; we can rig it. Someone dig it out and transfuse him.”
“I can do it,” I volunteer, wiping the tears from my eyes, not that it helps. “I can get the bullet out. I’m studying to be a doctor remember? How bad is it?”
Matias flees from the room to find his brother, and Carmine guides me out of the panic room, then lifts me into his arms. “Bury your face in my shoulder and close your eyes. I don’t want you to see any of the carnage. And you better not look—” he presses his hand against the back of my head. “I’ll know.”
I do as he says, hiding my face in his chest as he walks. His strides are long, as if he’s stepping over something. I curl my fingers into his suit jacket when I realize what.
A dead body.
His footsteps grow quicker. “Okay, you can look now.”
I lift my head and stare at the holes in the wall. There must be at least a dozen. When we get to the living room, one man is lying on the ground and another is sitting in a chair holding a hand to his shoulder.
Matias kneels on the ground, applying pressure to his brother’s wound.
“Set me down. I need to look at him.” I’m reminded that I only have Carmine’s shirt on again, but I don’t care. There’s no time for that. I rush to Ari’s side and give him a gentle smile, running my fingers through his hair. “You’re not so tough now, are you?” I say with a smile to ease the tension. He laughs, wincing from the pain.
“Whatever. I’m tougher now. Women love scars.” His skin is pale and clammy, while Matias’s hand is covered in blood.
“I need scissors, some type of sewing kit, vodka, and a belt,” I say.
“You’re going to spank me? You’re going to beat a man when he’s already down? That’s rude,” Ari jokes.
At least his sense of humor is intact.
“Someone needs to remind you of your place, right?” I wink, grabbing the supplies and thrusting them in my face. Belt, scissors, vodka.
Where are the needle and thread?
“How do you expect me to sew him up without a needle and thread? Hell, I’ll take wire. Anything.” I cut Ari’s shirt, and Matias moves his hand. A river of blood drips down his chest and abdomen.
“Is he going to die?” Matias asks, staring at the blood on his hand. He looks like he’s in shock.
“No, he isn’t going to die,” Carmine answers for me. “He isn’t, right?” Carmine kneels next to me.
“I don’t know. He’s bleeding a lot. I am still learning about medicine. I’m not perfect. I need that blood. Set up the transfusion. He needs it now.”
“I have it,” Alex calls from downstairs, and then into the living room blood bags in hand, along with the necessary equipment.
“You have that, but you don’t have anything for sutures?” I say to Carmine in the stress of the moment, my statement ending with a bite.
“We don’t usually have injuries. I used to have a doctor, but he was killed.”
“That’s reassuring,” I say, sarcasm dripping from my voice.
I lean over Ari. His eyes are closed, so I gently tap his face. “Ari, I need you to wake up, okay? Wake up. Talk to me.”
Marie is patting his forehead with a washcloth, and he finally rouses, groaning. “Fuck, it hurts.” He tries to roll away from me.
“Stop, Ari. Stop. I need you to lie down.” I grip his arm to hold him, but he rips it free. I’m able to see his back. There is no exit wound.
Shit.
“Let me go. I’m fine. Let me fucking go!” he roars.
Matias sits on his legs to keep him still, and Carmine is there to hold his arms down.
“Ari, listen to me. Listen, hey—” I grip his chin and force him to look at me. “I know it hurts. You’re in shock, but I need you to relax and stay awake. So, talk to us. Tell me about your childhood. Any good memories?” I untwist the cap of the vodka bottle. “This is going to hurt.”
“Wait!” His chest heaves just as someone shoves the needle into his arm to start the blood transfusion. “Give me some of that.” He snatches the bottle from my hand and chugs three big gulps. “Fuck!” The vodka spills from the corner of his lips. “Just do it.”
I start to take a swig myself, but Carmine rips the bottle from my lips. “What are you doing?”
“Believe me, I don’t want to be sober for what I’m about to do, and neither does he,” I say, not even giving Ari a warning before I douse the wound in vodka. Ignoring Ari’s agonized cries, I wash my hands in the alcohol. “There’s no exit wound. I’m going to have to dig the bullet out, Ari.”
He bites his bottom lip and nods. “Fucking perfect.”
“Heat up something metal too. I need something big and heat it until it’s orange.”
Ari’s eyes widen. “What? Why? Why do you need to do that?”
“Don’t worry about that right now.” I dig my fingers into the hole, and he screams, arching his back, nearly lifting Matias off the ground.
Carmine presses down harder on his arms, and Ari cries in pain while I dig into his body for the bullet.
“Come on, pass out,” I say under my breath, hoping the agony will be too much for him to take.
“Oh my god, can you feel it yet? Jesus Christ, Delilah! We don’t know each other well enough for you to be inside me like this,” he shouts, which causes a few people to laugh.
“Only you would be making a joke right now,” Carmine says, slightly amused.
“Better than admitting that I’m dying,” Ari grumbles, his eyes hooding.
“You’re not dying,” I state, twisting my hand again, and it causes Ari’s body to jerk. Finally, I feel something against my fingertips. “Don’t move. Don’t move, Ari. I have it. I know it’s hard but stay still.” I lift a shoulder to wipe the sweat off my brow, my hands covered in blood.
He takes fast breaths, his nostrils flaring as he prepares himself. “Okay. Okay,” he says. “Get it over with. God, I’m fucking tired.”
He blinks rapidly, and Marie is there to catch the sweat dripping from his brows.
Ari stills, but tremors cause his body to spasm. His skin is wet with sweat and blood…so much blood. I’m concerned. I don’t know if this will work.
I’m in over my head.
Pinching the bullet between my fingers, I pull it free, and everyone takes a breath.
“Give it to me,” Carmine holds out his hand, and I place it in his palm. He inspects it. “I’ll use the same bullet to kill Romano.”
“That’s the revenge story I love to hear about,” Ari’s teeth begin to chatter.
I pour more vodka on the wound, and he curses at me, “You fucking bitch! Warn me next time.”
“Watch it! She’s trying to save your life, Ari,” Carmine hisses. “You will not speak to her like that, or I’ll kill you myself.”
“Sorry. I’m sorry. It just hurts,” he says.
“It’s okay.” I forgive him easily. “You can call me a bitch all you want for the next part.” I fold the belt in my hand and push it into his mouth. He mumbles, and I know what he’s trying to ask.
Why the belt?
“Did anyone heat anything for me?”
“Yeah. This decorative iron poker? We have a gas fireplace—”
“That’s fine. Bring it.” I moved it over, Alex, if I remember correctly.
The tip of the iron is a brilliant orange. Smoke wafts from the tip, and Ari’s eyes widen. He begins to thrash, fighting against the men’s hold on him.
“I know.” My voice catches. “I don’t want to, but this is the only way to seal the wound. I’m not going to lie to you, this is going to really hurt. You’ll probably pass out, but I have to do it.”
He bites down on the belt, his jaw muscles flexing and the tendons in his neck protruding. Marie can’t wipe the sweat away quickly enough.
“Ready?”
He gives a slight tilt of his chin.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, then I press the searing hot iron into the wound. The flesh sizzles, the heat cauterizing the muscle and vessels so it no longer bleeds. The smell of his skin cooking has me holding back my sick. I try to hold my breath, but it isn’t enough to block the rancid scent.
Ari finally falls limp. The pain is too much for him, and I burn the surface of his wound to make sure it’s sealed.
I toss the poker to the floor, and the adrenaline begins to fade. I sway and fall to the side, Carmine catching me.
“I have you.”
I gag, then flip over, releasing the contents of my stomach on the floor.
He holds my hair and rubs my back. “It’s okay. You did so well, Sweetling. So good. You saved his life.”
“Not yet,” I correct him, wiping my mouth. “I need supplies. Antibacterial ointment, antibiotics to fight infection. I need to ensure he doesn’t react badly to the blood. I need a hospital wing.”
“Consider it done,” Carmine says.
A scream has me sitting up and staring at Nicky. Alex is taking the poker to Nicky’s gunshot wound, and since it’s a through and through, there’s no bullet to fish out.
Nicky punches Alex in the face and then passes out, both men falling unconscious.
“Jesus,” Matias sighs, sagging against the floor.
Everyone is tired. Exhaustion fills the room, and we sit in silence for minutes, maybe hours, I’m not sure. I’m too tired to care.
“Gianni, dispose of the bodies. Matias, settle your brother in an upstairs room so we can check on him as needed. Victor, deal with those two idiots.” Carmine points to Nicky and Alex. “I’m taking care of Delilah. Marie?”
“Yes, Mr. Milazzo?” her voice is steady as if she’s seen disasters like this before.
“Get cleaned up and go rest. I’ll hire a crew to repair the house and clean it.” Carmine slides his arms under me and lifts me. “Sweetling, you impress me so much. Let me take care of you.”
I don’t have the energy to fight him.
The reason is, though, I don’t want to fight him at all. Not anymore.
