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A force knocks me out of my rage, literally on my ass. Through my hazy gaze, I spot Francis who is frantic.
“She’s dying.”
“What the fuck did you just say?” I snap.
“Get it together, Atticus!” He screams, “She’s dying!”
My head snaps to where she lays, Luca over her body, doing something I can’t see. I called him as soon as Joseph hung up the first time.
I didn't need back up but I might have needed some life saving surgery.
Luca looks up to me, eyes panicked for the first time, ever. I shake my head, trying to get it together. Trying to remember how we got to this point.
I walk slowly, finding her dress split, skin pale as Luca digs inside her. I sink to my knees, grabbing her hand and kissing her bloody knuckles.
“This isn't good,” Luca whispers. Moving a tool inside her before removing a bullet. I hear a groan behind me and stiffen. “I’ve got him, sir. Stay with her.”
I listen for the first time in my life. I don’t move, watching Luca move his hand inside her. “We need to move her, she needs a hospital. I don't feel any damage to her organs, but I can't know without an ex-ray machine. Are you fucking listening to me, Atticus? God damnit, we’ll lose her if we don't move now.” He hits my arm and my eyes snap up. “Help me move her.”
I nod, not bothering to allow him to help me as I carry her to Luca’s helicopter.
Getting seated, I move her bloody, golden hair out of her face. “You would wait for me to become a better person to leaveme,” I mumble, holding the cloth at her wound. And we just have to wait. Because I had to live on an excluded island in the middle of the goddamn ocean.
She’s beenin the operating room for hours as they try to put her back together. From what the nurse has told me, they’ve had to bring her back twice and her body is very weak, very tired, but not to give up hope.
Fuck hope.
I’m not living without her. I fucking refuse. I’ll nose dive right off this building if she decides to call it quits.
“Mr. Prescott.” I don't usually give people my full name but I'd give them anything to fix her.
I turn, clenching my jaw to keep from snapping at the poor woman. “Yes?”
“She’s stable.” I let out a harsh breath. “For now. She’s in a medically induced coma while her body heals, and after her vitals are better, we’ll slowly bring her off, and hope for the best.”
“Hope for the best?” I growl.
The woman crosses her arms, glaring. “She’s a fighter, okay? Give her time to heal. She’ll decide if she wants to stay or not. Now, if you follow me, I’ll take you to her room.”
The sight of her body so small and frail nearly brings me to my knees. I walk numbly, taking a seat next to her bed as the ventilation machine jerks her frame with each breath it forces into her body.
I wrap my hands in hers and rest my head on the bed.
I hadJoseph brought to Seattle. Held up in the basement of my gambling ring he loves so much. I wanted him close. So, I had something to do besides strangle nurses and doctors.
She’s been in her coma for three days now and being patient has never been my virtue. Never.
So with so much pent up hostility, I aim it at a more worthy target.
Fucking Joseph.
For the past forty eight hours, I’ve had him strapped down to a table with a slow drip of water repeatedly hitting the middle of his forehead. I’ve taken great pleasure in watching him slowly lose his mind on my phone.
He’s weak. I’ve seen lesser men last longer.
The fun part is, I’ve just begun.
Francis greets me, taking it upon himself to keep guard of Joseph. “How is she, sir?”
