I shush her, cradling her face with shaking hands. “Don’t talk,” I murmur, trying to keep the roaring panic at bay. “Save your strength.” I scoop her into my arms despite the way the movement makes fresh blood pulse from the wound. “Danny!” I roar. “Danny!”
He appears beside me, his face going white when he sees the blood. “Holy fuck?—”
“We need to go.Now.” I’m already running toward the exit, cradling her against my chest like she’s made of glass. “Get the car. Hospital. We need togo!”
The choice surprises even me. Three years of planning revenge, and when I find out who the culprit is, when he’srightthereescaping through that back door, I chooseherinstead. Choose getting her to safety over pursuing him, over everything my revenge-obsessed self would have demanded.
Because I’ve realized that losing her would destroy me more completely than Marco’s death ever did.
“I’ve got you,” I whisper against her hair as Danny runs ahead to bring the car around. “I’ve got you,cara. Just stay with me. Please, just stay with me.”
Her lips move, forming words I can’t hear over the ringing in my ears from the gunfire. I bend closer, desperate to catch whatever she’s trying to say.
“—sorry,” she whispers, her voice so faint I almost miss it. “I’m sorry?—”
“Don’t.” My voice breaks. “Don’t apologize. You saved my life. You…” A sob works its way out. “Why would you do that? Why would you?”
“Love you,” she breathes, then her eyes roll back and she goes completely limp in my arms.
“No!” I shake her, terror making my whole body shake. “Gigi, no. Wake up.Wake up!”
Danny has the car running, back door open. I slide into the backseat with her still cradled against me, her blood soaking through my clothes, her breathing so shallow I can barely feel it.
“Drive!” I roar at Danny. “Fuckingdrive!”
The trip to the hospital seems to take no time at all but then way too much time. I keep my hand pressed against the wound, trying to keep pressure, trying to keep her blood inside her body where it belongs. But it keeps seeping through my fingers, warm and sticky andwrong.
“Don’t leave me,” I whisper against her temple, my own tears mixing with the blood on her face. “Please, Gigi. I know you hate me. I know I don’t deserve you. But please don’t leave me. I can’t—I can’t survive losing you too.”
Her pulse is thready beneath my fingers, barely there. Her skin is pale as death, her lips tinged blue.
“Drive faster!” I scream at Danny, my voice raw.
“I’m going as fast as I can!” comes his response, but there’s panic underlying it too.
“It’s not fast enough! She’s dying—she’s dyingand I can’t?—”
The hospital emergency entrance finally appears, thankChrist. Danny barely stops the car before I’m kicking the door open, stumbling out with Gigi in my arms.
“Help!” I scream. “She’s been shot!”
Medical staff swarm immediately. Nurses, doctors, someone bringing a gurney. They try to take her from my arms, but I can’t let go. I can’t release her to these strangers who might let her die.
“Sir, you need to let her go,” someone says to me.
I tighten my grip. “I can’t.”
“Sir,” another voice says loudly, “we can’t help her if you don’t?—”
Danny’s hands are on my shoulders, pulling me back. “Boss, let them work. Let them save her.”
I release her onto the gurney with a sob that sounds inhuman even to my own ears. Watch as they wheel her away at a run, shouting medical terminology I don’t understand. A doctor in scrubs and a surgical mask turns back to me.
“Are you family?”
“Husband,” I manage faintly. “I-I’m her husband.”
“Name?”
