Page 16 of A Sinner's Virtue
Gio fills a glass with Cinque, without bothering to pour me one. As if on cue, or more likely they’ve been summoned, two of my brothers walk into the room. Look at me and stop.
“What the fuck?” Santo asks. I shake my head. There’s no point telling them the story until Gabe arrives because I know Gio’s called them all here.
The doc is the next one to come through the door. He doesn’t ask questions, just sets his bag down at my feet and gets to work patching me up.
“What the fuck happened?” Gabe growls when he enters the room a few minutes later.
“You should see the other guys,” I repeat. And once again, no one appreciates my humour. These fuckers really need to learn how to take a joke.
They’re all staring at me. I get it. I’ve looked better.
I hiss when the doc presses on my chest and lower abdomen. “I don’t need an x-ray to tell me there’s at least one cracked rib,” he says.
“Yeah, figured. Hurts like a fucking bitch,” I grit out between clenched teeth. My fists clench as I embrace the pain.
Gabe pours himself a whiskey, and again, no one fucking bothers to get me one.
“Just stitch me up, Doc. I gotta get back out there and find those fucking assholes,” I grunt. I was planning on doing that tomorrow, after I’ve recovered a little. But now, my anger is building, and I want to find them and put a bullet between their eyes.
“You should take a few days, at the very least, to recover,” Doc says.
About twenty minutes later, the doc finally packs up. He hands me a bottle of pain pills and tells me to chill the fuck out. That’s not fucking happening, though.
As soon as the doc is out of the room, I push myself off the sofa and onto my feet. “I’m going to fucking kill them all,” I hiss through the pain.
“Who?” Gio asks.
“The fucking Russians,” I yell out.
“The Russians jumped you?” Gabe asks with a raised brow. We’re not on friendly terms with them, but we don’t just start fights with each other either.
“Yes,” I tell him.
“Where were you?” Gio pins me with that look, the one that would have most men pissing their pants.
I break eye contact first, walk over to the bar, and pick up a bottle of Cinque. Pulling out two of the pain pills the doc gave me and washing them down with the whiskey before turning back to my brother. “It doesn’t matter where I was.”
“Actually it does. Where were you, Marcello?” Gio repeats.
I feel four sets of eyes on me. “I was at Varka,” I admit.
“Why the fuck were you at a Russian club?” Gabe asks.
I shrug a shoulder. And immediately regret it. Shit hurts. “Looking for someone.”
“You’ll do nothing to retaliate. You shouldn’t have been there. You’re lucky they left you fucking breathing. Whoever she is, she’s not worth this,” Gio says while gesturing a hand towards my face.
“I agree with him. No chick is worth… that,” Santo spits.
“Why?” This comes from Gabe.
“What do you mean why?”
“Why were you looking for someone in a Russian club?” he clarifies.
“It doesn’t matter.” I fall back onto the sofa.
“Well, I’d love to stay and chat but I got shit to do,” Vin says before walking out of the room.
