The driver’s side window is down. I see the flash of metal and hear a gunshot. Bracing myself for the hit, I blink in confusion when Fred’s gun falls to the ground and he screams in pain. Two more gunshots ring out, and Wade and Gino drop, bullet holes in the middle of their foreheads. As Fred reaches for his gun with hisleft hand, there’s another gunshot. He screams again, cradling both his bleeding hands to his chest.
The car comes to a screeching stop in front of us.
And now I’m absolutely convinced I’m hallucinating this whole fucking thing because my tiny warrior goddess, my avenging angel, my wife, steps out of it. Just like the first time I saw her, she takes my breath away.
But there’s no way she’s really here. Marco and Dad wouldn’t put her in danger like this. I want her safe at home. Confused and conflicted, I simply stare.
“You fucking cunt! You stupid little bitch princess!” Fred spits as she stalks toward us.
“Shut the fuck up, Fred, you’re done.” She raises the gun in her hand and shoots him between his eyes without missing a step.
Then she’s there kneeling in front of me, pulling the shirt she’s wearing—my shirt— over her head and pressing it against one of my wounds.
“I’m here, I’ve got you, Beefcake.” My body sags even as I smile at my wife. She wraps her arms around me but can’t hold me up, and we both slip to the ground.
“Daddy, help!” Ariana screams. Her face comes into focus for a moment. The fear in her eyes makes my heart drop.
She came for me. My miracle girl came to save me. There’s so much I want to tell her. So many things I want to do with her. But I’m losing the battle with the shadows creeping into the edges of my vision.
“I love you, Minx,” I whisper as everything goes dark again.
Chapter 85
This sucks ass
Ariana
The DeVilles go to the hospital about as often as they go to the police station.
Which is almost never. None of us have been since I got arrested after starting a bar fight and beating the crap out of a guy who was harassing Lil when we were seventeen.
Dad showed up, and I was un-arrested quickly. And apologized to.
As for the hospital, obviously I spent a lot of time there once. Then Doc had Dad take me and Lil after she totaled the Porsche and my head went bouncing around.
There’s no question about whether or not to take Luca there now. Ford drives a big black van over. The large doors and seatless back make getting my husband into it a lot easier than into a car, but it’s still not exactly an easy task. Dad, Anthony, Lil, Doc, and I all jump in the back, and Ford takes off. I cradle Luca’s head in my lap, running my fingers through his hair and whispering to him. Over and over, I tell him the things he’s told me when I’ve beenlost. “I’m here. I’ve got you. I love you.” My tears fall onto his cheeks. “Stay with me, Luca. Don’t you dare leave me.”
I focus on his face—his swollen, bruised, and bleeding face. But his shirt has been cut away, and I can see his torso out of the corner of my eye. Everyone else tries to stop the bleeding from the stab wounds. I have no idea how long it takes to get to the hospital. It feels like years have gone by when we pull up to the ER doors. It’s the same ER as seven years ago. I look up and meet Dad’s gaze, the agony in my heart reflected in his eyes.
But this time is different. Luca’s breathing. His heart is beating. He already has a better chance than I did. Within seconds, he’s on a gurney and being wheeled into the building.
Usually, being Marco DeVille’s daughter opens doors for me, but today, being Luca DeVille’s wife does. I follow behind as they take him to a room in the ER and start working on him. But when they whisk him away to surgery, I move to the waiting room where our family is.
Lil sits on my left, our pinkies locked together. The spot on my right becomes the musical chair, and if I wasn’t scared out of my fucking mind, I might find it funny how often a different person is sitting there. Dad was at first but then went to get some of the terrible coffee from the machine down the hall. I drank it because it’s coffee, and he loaded it up with sugar for me. As soon as Dad stood up, Anthony sat down with a sigh, taking my hand in his. When Anthony got up to pace, Mom sat down. Becca took the chair when Mom went to the bathroom, then Ford was there, and then Sully. They cycle through as if no one can stay in that chair for more than twenty minutes.
But Lil doesn’t move. My best friend, my sister, one of my soulmates, sits in an uncomfortable chair next to me for an eternity.
I lean over and rest my head on her shoulder. “We shouldhave brought a flask,” I whisper. I’ve had two cups of the shitty coffee but could really use a shot of something in the next one.
“Right? We brought a fucking sniper rifle we didn’t end up needing, but neither of us thought to grab a flask.” My gaze collides with Dad’s a few feet away. His jaw is clenched, and his arms are crossed. He doesn’t know whether to be pissed at us or proud of us. Which is pretty normal for him where we’re concerned, but never on this grand of a scale. He looks away when Mom walks up to him.
Lil and I fall back into silence, the sounds of the hospital echoing around us.
“Lil—” I start, but she interrupts me.
“He’s going to be okay, Ari.” She brings our joined hands up and kisses mine.
“What if he’s not?” The words are painful like they get stuck on the way out of my throat.
