Page 8
My mind fills with thoughts of my baby, how it will never even get a chance at life because its mother is such an idiot and something springs to life inside of me. The fight that left my body when I saw Gio plunging that knife into the other man’s chest returns with a vengeance and I know I can’t go down without a fight. My baby isn’t able to fight for itself yet so it needs me to do it. I struggle against Luca, hoping I don’t end up injuring myself more in the process but my movements take him by surprise and the knife pulls away from my skin for just a second but it’s enough. Bucking my hips, I shove him and somehow manage to get my foot between us, kicking him off of me as the blade slices through the air.
He lands on his ass a foot or so away from me, disoriented, and I don’t waste any of the few precious seconds I have as I scoot away from him and scramble to my feet again. Black spots dance in front of my vision as I take off running again but I block them out, focusing on the street in front of me. Just a few more feet… I just need to get there.
Luca’s silence unnerves me and my feet falter as I risk taking a peek back at him. He’s sitting where I left him, his expression murderous and full of one singular dark promise. It tells me everything I need to know. A man like Luca, who does whatever it is that led him to this scene tonight, won’t just let me walk away.
I saw too much.
I know too much.
That thought rings in my head as I burst onto the sidewalk, scaring the hell out of a group of guys standing around and bullshitting with each other. I collapse against the restaurant, the spots in my vision getting bigger as the guys approach me.
“Yo, you okay?” one of them says but I can’t muster up the energy to answer him and as the world spins around me, all I can think about is my sweet little baby and the life it will never get to lead because I’m such a damn moron.
Chapter Four
Isabelle
“Okay, sweetie,” Katie, the nurse who has been taking care of me this evening, says as she walks into the room with a clipboard in her hand. Her smile is soft and I’m sure it’s meant to be comforting and probably is to most people but after everything that has happened to me tonight, it doesn’t bring me any peace. “I’ve got your discharge paperwork right here and as soon as I get your signature, you’re free to go.”
She turns the clipboard to me and hands me a pen. I take it silently and scribble my name by the “X” at the bottom of the page before handing both back to her. She glances down at it and nods before looking up at me again with that same kind smile. I really wish she would stop.
“Remember to take it easy this week and rest as much as possible. Your body has been through hell and it’s okay to not be okay.”
I nod. “I will.”
“And…” She pauses, placing her hand on my uninjured shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “For what it’s worth, I’m so sorry this happened to you.”
It’s not worth much.
My eyes burn with unshed tears, pissing me off, and I sink my teeth into my bottom lip to keep it from wobbling as I struggle to keep a grip on my emotions, dropping my gaze to the floor. Agony rips through my chest like a wildfire, leaving nothing but charred flesh in its wake as I flash back to the fear I felt as I ran down that alley with Luca on my heels. The comfortable numbness I was settled into when I first arrived at the emergency room is quickly fading, letting everything else in and it’s beginning to swallow me whole.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice hoarse with the onslaught of emotions I’m struggling to hold back.
“Feel better, hon.”
I simply nod, unable to say anything else. My throat is tight with the tears I’ve been holding back for way too long and the only thing she can do to help me now is leave. I rub my hand up my arm and down again, the soft sweater the hospital provided me with after the paramedics had to cut my flowy tank top off sends goose bumps racing across my flesh and my muscles twitch with the need to leave this place. I need somewhere familiar, somewhere safe.
“Do you have a ride home?”
Shit.
No, I don’t.
When I collapsed on the sidewalk outside of the restaurant, the guys called an ambulance for me and sat with me as I faded in and out of consciousness. My next clear memory is being loaded onto a stretcher by two paramedics and rushed off to the hospital so my car is still back at the scene. I have no way home. Thoughts of crawling into my bed and bawling my eyes out until I fall asleep fill my mind and I clear my throat as the tears threaten to fall again.
I have to get out of this place.
“Yeah, I do,” I lie, refusing to meet her eyes. I have no idea what I’m going to do but the one thing I know, for sure, is that I will figure it out. And I will not break down here, surrounded by people. She gives my shoulder another squeeze and I look up, hating the compassion shining in her eyes as she studies me.
God, just stop.
I feel like a fucking lab rat in here, with everyone watching me and waiting for me to show some kind of emotion to the trauma I’ve experienced but I refuse. My strength may be waning but I have just enough to keep myself together until I’m alone and I can let it all out. Finally, she nods, accepting my answer and I release a breath.
“Come on. I’ll walk out with you,” she tells me, extending her arm so I can support myself to slide off the table and I shake my head.
“That’s okay. I can make it on my own.”
Glancing up, I meet her gaze and she looks like she wants to argue with me about it but she doesn’t, nodding, and taking a step back from the exam table.