Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Santo
I stare out the window at the churning sea and sit up. I stifle a groan.
Jesus, I forgot how much it hurts to recover from a gunshot wound. Bullet tore through my chest and caused damage to my lungs but missed my heart. Could’ve been fatal.
“Dodged a bullet,” Mario quips when I finally get back home to The Castle for our in-house doc to tend to me.
“When I get outta this bed I’m gonna kick your ass for that,” I tell him.
“I look forward to it,” he says with a grin.
They did an X-ray and an ultrasound to assess the damage and proclaimed me “lucky.” Blood test showed no infection and proper kidney function, and an endoscopy showed no further internal damage.
The bronchoscopy was a bitch of a test, but thankfully no damage to the lungs that’s irreparable. I’m told they almost lost me that first night. I don’t remember much of anything.
They did surgery the first night and again the second. I have a vague memory of Rosa and Romeo, but they felt distanced and worried. I couldn’t open my eyes, but I heard their voices. And I felt Rosa with me.
It was the fourth day when I could finally open my eyes, and the eighth day they reluctantly sent me home.
Romeo can be persuasive.
And our doctor at The Castle knows his shit.
“You’re lucky, Santo,” the doctor says to me when I wake after being transported home. “You’re damn lucky.”
My entire body’s on fire with pain, and breathing hurts. I can whisper to talk but not much else. I don’t feel that lucky, but I can draw breath. That’s what fucking matters right now.
“They gave you a tetanus shot, and you got a blood transfusion,” he explains. “Almost needed an endotracheal tube but you’re stubborn. You breathed on your own and didn’t need help from a respirator.”
I don’t want help from anyone. I’ll do whatever shit I can on my own to get better.
“They did surgery to repair damage, to clean the wound, and retrieve the bullet,” the doctor explains. “But found it was a clean entry and you’re remarkably unharmed.”
I wonder what harmed would feel like. Unharmed feels like fucking shit.
Still, I’m thankful.
I nod and don’t reply. It hurts to talk.
“You’ll have to follow my instructions for recovery,” he continues.
“No sex for a month and you can’t smoke or drink,” Mario says from across the room.
“Can I kick his ass?” I ask the doc.
“Four more weeks before you do any ass kicking.”
“Better watch your back, motherfucker. Long time to plan strategy,” I tell Mario. My voice sounds like it’s been dragged through hell and back.
“You’ll do the breathing exercises illustrated here,” he says, waving a white sheet of paper at me and placing it on the bedside table. “Once you’re able to get up and about, you’ll walk two or three times a day. This will prevent clotting and help you heal, but it’ll be painful.”
Pain can be fucked. I’ll do it.
“No lifting anything heavy and Mario’s right about one thing, do nothing that will cause physical stress for the first three weeks. Do what you can to sleep comfortably. No lying on your belly while the injury heals. Sleep with your head propped up to aid with better breathing. My assistant will be in here three times a day for dressing changes and wound care, and you’ll take sponge baths during that time.”
“Sounds fantastic,” I lie. “Thanks.”
He pats my hand. “You came out of this alive, Santo. We’re all thankful. Now we gotta keep you alive.”
I nod. “Yeah. Sounds like a good idea.”
He gives me a heavy dose of painkillers, then leaves me to my brothers, who surround me like worried little hens.
“You guys are practically fuckin’ clucking,” I mutter, and close my eyes. They feel so heavy.
Romeo chuckles. “Worth it,” he says.
My eyes fly open. “Jesus, I forgot you were out. God, what have I missed?”
“A lot,” Romeo says with a sad smile. He shares a look with Orlando and Tavi. “But you gotta rest for now. It’s best for you.”
I nod and don’t move. I want to know where Rosa is, if I can see her, but I won’t risk revealing anything. Not now, when I need to make sure she’s secure.
“Natalia?” I ask. “She okay?”
“Marialena and Natalia are fine, thanks to you,” Romeo says. He sits at the side of my bed and leans forward, his elbows on his knees and fingertips pressed together. “You took a gunshot from the Campanelle camper,” he says. “I’ll explain it all later. Campanelles made a deal with the Regazzas, but the Regazzas ratted them out.”
Tavi speaks up. “Elise had a word with a cousin, who came to her. Won’t tell us his name, but says he knows what they’re planning and it’s an inside job for them. They never forgave you for killing one of their own, Santo, but Romeo’s making them an offer they can’t refuse.”