There’s a scrape of metal against the stone floor as Matti moves a chair beside me. Vin keeps a hold of my wrist, his thumb moving in slow circles, as I sit down.
Dr. Rossi clears his throat. “I’ll give you a minute, but then I’ll need to—”
I wave him off. God, this man is weird, so freaking robotic.
I look at the blood on Vin’s shirt, the shirt I chose for him, and pluck at the sleeve.
“You took the blast,” I say. “You were standing in front of my father.”
“It’s hardly heroic, Sophie. It’s not like I knew it was going to go off.”
“Why were you talking to my father?”
He closes his eyes, but maintains his grip on my wrist.
“You’re not leaving the estate,” I say.
“Bossy.” His voice has a note of a smile to it. “I tell you I love you and you think you’re in charge now.”
“Vincenzo, don’t try me right now.”
He’s so quiet, it’s hard to hear him. “Don’t tryme, Sophia.”
His thumb continues its slow circuit across the inside of mywrist.
The pavilion is still burning somewhere above us. I can smell the smoke distantly, muted by the thick stone walls. Outside there are voices and movement and the sound of machinery. In here it is quiet.
So much for ‘just one day.’
38
VIN
Dr. Rossi pulls the needle in and out of my side, sewing up the cuts that wraps around to my back. I don’t make a sound.
I’m on my stomach on a sterile bed on the estate in a med room separate from my house. Sophie sits quietly by the bed, holding my hand. I can’t take my eyes off her, even when Dr. Rossi’s needle hits a nerve.
Zero bedside manner, this fucking guy, which is how I prefer it. He says nothing when I grip the blankets, my knuckles white. He threads and pulls and I fucking deal with it until he’s done.
There were 17 pieces of metal in my back and left shoulder. Rossi has removed 11 of them. The other six are deeper and requiremore time and patience than I have. My left ear is still ringing. My ribs feel like someone drove a truck over them.
But fuck those Irish fucks. I’m fucking alive. And soon they won’t be.
The door bursts open and Matti appears in the doorway, Tommy right behind him. They both stop when they see Rossi’s instruments laid out on a cloth, the small tray of metal he’s already removed from my body. Matti’s grimaces. Tommy’s expression doesn’t change, but he spins the ring on his left hand.
“Keep it brief,” Sophie says, squeezing my hand as she rises from her seat.
Matti steps to the side as she moves to the door. My energy is draining fast, but I half smile hearing the authority in my queen’s voice. This is her castle, and she knows it.
“He needs rest,” she says to Matti and Tommy. “Vincenzo, I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”
“Okay, princess.”
When she’s gone, Matti and Tommy come to stand by the bed.
“This doesn’t look good,” Matti says.
“Looks worse than it is.”
