“I’ve got it,” I muttered.
“No, you don’t,” she retorted.
The door opened again and Dario escorted the doctor to my side. “What have you gotten yourself into this time, Remo.” Bane, an old, respected man, had been our on-call doctor for the last twelve years and earned the right to give us an earful at times, his tone always fatherly. “This looks bad,” he muttered, inspecting my wounds.
“It looks worse than it feels,” I replied, watching Dario trying to comfort Gian without making it too obvious while leading him out the door.
“Obviously you’d say that. Pain means nothing to you,” Alessia retorted, standing behind the doctor, wringing her hands, and glared at him every time he touched me as if she expected him to hurt me more. He cleaned the cuts. Stitched what needed stitching. Pressed on my ribs until a groan escaped me despite my instincts.
“Three ribs bruised, maybe fractured, the cuts are deep but thankfully didn’t hit any major organs,” he explained to my brother like I was fucking incapacitated. “He needs rest. No fighting. No work. No stress.” I rolled my eyes and Alessia’s scowl threatened to kill me if I argued. Bane turned to her. “I’m leaving him in your care.”
She blinked. “Me?”
“I gathered you’re the only one he’ll listen to. Keep his bandages clean. Make sure he eats. Make sure he sleeps. If he shows signs of fever or can’t breathe properly, call me.”
At her nod, Lorenzo added, “I’ll send more men to keep guard. Don’t let him leave. Tie him down if you must.”
“The fuck,” I mumbled.
“I might,” she replied, blue eyes challenging me.
They both left shortly after, the doctor first, then my brother, who gave Alessia a look that simply meant:if he dies, I’ll kill everyone responsible.
When the door shut, silence settled over us and surprisingly, I welcomed the sleep that pulled me under.
I opened my eyes a barely few minutes later to Alessia kneeling beside the bed, lifting my chin gently to check the swelling under my eye.
“You scared me,” she whispered.
When Lorenzo brought her into our fold it was with the intention of rescuing her from her abusive father. Their marriage was one of convenience and from the get-go, he’d warned her she’d never own his heart, only because it belonged to Rayden who he hadn’t seen in almost nine years at that time.
I was tasked to keep her safe when shit hit the fan and my brother knew they’d come after her. Over the time she’d been in our care and regardless of how hard I was on her, she’d grown close to me.
I sighed. “I didn’t mean to.”
“You always don’t mean to,” she griped, referring to my past injuries. “And it still happens.”
“Comes with the territory, Alessia. What time is it?”
“Time to change your bandages, you were bleeding while you slept for all of fifteen minutes.”
“That’s all, ” I muttered.
Her fingers moved with surprising tenderness as she secured fresh bandages around my ribs. I hissed when she tightened them. “Sorry,” The cheeky shit grinned. “Not sorry enough to stop, though.” When she finished, she sat back on her heels, breathing hard like she’d run a marathon. “Remo,” her voice softened. “Please don’t make me bury you.”
I didn’t answer, because I couldn’t make that promise. She stood abruptly, wiping her eyes on her sleeve and grabbed her gloves. “I need to hit something.”
Resting my head on the extra pillow, I watched her stalk over to the punching bag. She hit it hard. Again, and again. But after a minute, the strikes faltered.
“Don’t lock your wrist like that.”
“You’re supposed to be resting,” she threw over her shoulder.
“I am.”
“You’re coaching.”
“That’s resting.”
