Page 62 of Casino King

I press harder against his wound and look up at Alec who’s staring at me with those same cold eyes.

“Alec! He needs help!” I yell, my voice breaking at the end. He doesn’t do anything, though. He just stands there holding the gun at his side. My eyes sweep around the group of men behind him, all of them with the same blank, emotionless expressions.

I look Alec in the eyes again. “Alec,” I repeat, “if you don’t get him help, I’ll never forgive you. I trust him to protect me. I don’t give a damn if you think you need to prove anything to these men.”

“I’ll be fine, T,” Enzo says weakly, blood spurting through my fingers as I try and keep the pressure.

“Yes, you will be,” I tell him. “Alec!” I yell, but he just turns and walks away, handing the gun back to the man and telling him something in the process.

The guard takes his phone out and dials a number. A few minutes later, Joe, the doctor who checked me over after I was attacked, comes running from the other side of the garage.

“Please help him,” I beg. Looking down at Enzo, his eyes are closed, so I slap his cheek softly. “No, wake up! Stay here, E!” I keep patting his cheek, then slap him harder, and he groans, opening his eyes.

“Jesus, T. Ow.”

I give him a smile as Joe gets to work. He digs in his bag and comes out with a wad of gauze and replaces my hand with his.

“We need to get him up to the room. Help me with him,” Joe orders, and three men step up to lift Enzo from the floor and carry him to the elevator.

“Is he going to be okay? Where are you taking him?”

“To the medic suite in the hotel where I’ll do everything I can to save him.”

Sitting back on my heels, I feel the rough cement digging into my legs, and I realize once again that I’m still dressed in my show costume.

I look down at my bloody hands and don’t know what to do with them.

“Here,” Joe says, handing me a small towel from his bag. “You did good, Tessa.”

“Thanks,” I whisper, rubbing my hands on it, the stark white turning a vivid red. I didn’t do good, though. Enzo is dying because of me.

The elevator dings and the doors open. “I have to go,” he says quickly, grabbing his bag and running to the waiting elevator car.

I look after him, and I’m surprised to see Leo is still here, looking at me with what I think is respect in his eyes. But I don’t care. I’m done. I want to leave.

“I need to go home,” I tell him.

“I’ll take you.” Lifting his chin at the man he called Alfie earlier, he gets back behind the wheel and Leo opens the back door for me.

Standing on shaky legs, I grab my bag and look back at the closed elevator doors. “Will he be okay?”

“Joe will take care of him.” He nods, and I return it with a small one of my own before climbing inside the car.

I give Alfie my address, and when we pull up to my apartment building, I look down at my costume and blood-stained hands.

“Alfie will walk you up. No one will bother you,” Leo tells me.

“Right. Sure,” I answer in a daze. I don’t feel anything right now. I just watched a man who’s been with me every day for the past month, or two if you count the one I didn’t even know about, get shot in front of me. It was too reminiscent of watching my brother getting shot and bleeding out on the sidewalk.

I couldn’t help him.

I couldn’t do anything to stop the bleeding from the shot to his chest while people just stood around and watched me scream and cry for help.

Help arrived too late for James.

“Give me your phone,” he says, but when I look inside my bag, I realize I don’t have it.

“It was taken at the party and I left before getting it back.”

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