Chapter 79
“Luca!” she shouted again as she saw the dark red spreading beneath his shirt, blooming fast and merciless.
Vito, pale and shaking, finally moved. He scrambled to the floor, frantically kicking guns away from limp hands, dragging them out of reach. His breathing was loud, panicked, guilt dripping off him thicker than sweat.
Vee rushed to Luca’s side, catching him as his knees threatened to give. She guided him into a chair, her hands trembling but firm, her mouth moving faster than her thoughts. Blood stained her fingers.
“No, no, no,” she whispered, already digging through her bag, panic clawing up her throat. She yanked out her phone, fingers fumbling.
“What are you doing?” Luca asked.
“Calling 911,” she snapped, tears streaking down her face now.
Luca let out a breath that almost sounded like a laugh, though it hurt like hell. “Wrong number, darling p>
He pulled out his phone with a shaking hand, unlocked it with his thumb, and pressed it into her palm. His blood smeared the screen. “Send two-one-two to Marco. Don’t call. Just text it p>
She stared at him, horrified. “You’ve been stabbed p>
“Yeah,” he groaned, shifting slightly before immediately regretting it. His hand closed around the knife still buried in his side, fingers slick, jaw tightening as another wave of pain hit.
He turned his head toward Vito, eyes hard despite the pain. “I’m sure you have some vodka in this house, seeing as you are a fucking piece of shit p>
Vito nodded rapidly, bolting toward the kitchen.
Vee dropped to her knees in front of Luca, clutching his phone, her hands shaking so badly she nearly missed the keys. She sent the text. Two-one-two. Nothing else. A silent scream into the dark machinery of Luca’s world.
She looked up at him then. His dark hair was damp with sweat, his face drawn tight, but his eyes were still on her, still sharp, still there.
A moment later Vito rushed back in, clutching a half-full bottle of vodka.
Luca snatched it from him, holding it out with a sharp tilt of his chin. “Open it,” he ordered. Vito fumbled with the cap, twisting until it finally gave way. Luca lifted it, and drank deeply. The alcohol burned its way down his throat. He coughed once, then swallowed again, jaw flexing, before setting the bottle beside the chair.
Luca turned his head and found Vee staring at him. Her skin had gone pale, her lips parted like she was afraid to breathe too deeply. Panic sat in her eyes. She looked small in that moment, not weak, just terrified. Terrified of losing him.
“I didn’t know you cared,” he said softly, a crooked smile tugging at his mouth despite the pain.
“Stop kidding,” she snapped. Tears clung to her lashes, threatening to spill.
“I’m not,” he murmured, then sobered. He glanced down at the knife still embedded in his side, the handle slick with blood. “Listen to me. I need to pull this out. And when I do, it’s going to bleed. A lot p>
Her breath hitched.
“So you have to put on those bad ass pants I know you have,” he continued, eyes locking on hers. “And you have to hold pressure. Hard. Don’t let go. Just stall it until Marco gets here p>
She nodded too fast, panic warring with determination. “Okay. Okay. I can do that p>
She scrambled to her feet and grabbed the nearest towel from the hallway closet. She dropped back down beside him, knees hitting the floor.
Luca flexed his fingers around the knife. His teeth clenched.
He yanked the knife out.
Blood surged instantly, spilling over his fingers and soaking his shirt. Vee cried out, a broken sound torn from her chest, horror flashing across her face as she watched it happen. Her hands trembled violently.
“Now, Bambola,” Luca said sharply. “Now p>
She pressed the towel to his side with both hands, hard, just like he said. The fabric soaked through almost immediately, red blooming beneath her palms. She swallowed a sob and leaned in closer.
“I’ve got you,” she whispered. “I’ve got you p>
“Is that all you got?” Luca said through clenched teeth.
Vee sucked in a shaky breath and pushed harder against the wound, her arms trembling. The towel was already soaked through, blood warm and slick beneath her palms. Her jaw locked as she prayed silently. Marco. Hurry. Please hurry. The living room still held threats, unconscious men scattered.
“If this doesn’t kill me,” Luca continued, “Nonnina definitely will p>
“What?” Vee snapped, eyes never leaving his wound.
“She hates it when I get stabbed or shot,” he added.
Despite herself, a broken laugh escaped Vee’s throat. “You’re joking. You have to be joking p>
“I wish,” he murmured, eyelids fluttering for a fraction of a second before he forced them open again.
Vee swallowed hard, her throat tight. “I’m guessing,” she said quietly, “this isn’t your first time p>
“No,” Luca replied simply. “But it’s the first time I’m bleeding out in your father’s living room p>
Before she could respond, the front door burst open. Heavy footsteps followed. Marco appeared in the doorway, expression grim, eyes scanning the scene in seconds. Relief hit Vee so hard her knees nearly gave out.
“Oh thank God,” she breathed.
Marco moved aside immediately as a man stepped forward. He was at Luca’s side instantly, gloving his hands, tools appearing by his side.
The doctor took over from Vee, assessing, fingers probing.
A few men followed Marco inside, already lifting bodies, collecting weapons, erasing evidence. This was Luca’s world.
“I need to move him,” the doctor said. “Somewhere flat. Clean. Now p>
“My bedroom,” Vee said immediately, not even thinking, already shifting her weight to help.
Together, they moved Luca, his arm slung loosely over Vee’s shoulder. He was heavy, solid muscle and blood and will, his breath warm against her neck. She felt his weight, felt the vulnerability he would never show anyone else. His hand tightened briefly in her shirt, a silent acknowledgment.
They laid him gently on her bed. The doctor went to work immediately, cutting Luca’s blood-soaked shirt away, exposing the wound. Vee turned her face slightly.
Luca caught her hand before she could step away. “Watch,” he murmured, lips pale.