Page 91 of Salvatore

Apollo backs away, his face turning as white as Lucca’s. “Aedry,” he calls. “Aedry!”

She and Autumn race toward us as I cross into the foyer. Aedry screams when she sees us, stumbling to a stop.

Autumn charges forward, lifting Lucca’s opposite arm only to freeze.

“He’s been shot,” she says, at the same time Aedry asks me what happened.

“You’ve been shot?” Aedry says, rushing toward me.

I looked down, realizing I’m soaked with Lucca’s blood. “I’m fine,” I say, my gaze shifting to my brothers. “Pack your suitcases. We’re leaving now.”

“But . . .” Apollo begins.

“I said now!” I snap.

“Let’s go,” Gianno tells him tightly. He hooks his arm, leading him back to their room, meeting my face with anger and fear.

“What happened?” Aedry asks again, her hands skimming all over my body.

I drag Lucca to the couch, speaking fast. “Lucca works for Vin. Vin gave him a vacation just like he did us.” I lay Lucca across the leather sectional with Autumn’s help. “He went out, broke down, and was attacked. I found him like this when I drove out to help him.”

Autumn takes off into the kitchen, rustling through drawers.

“You found him like this?” Aedry stammers.

I look up from where I’m putting pressure on Lucca’s shoulder. Her voice is barely audible. She doesn’t believe me. I try to make her. “I swear to Christ this is how I found him.”

“I was robbed,” Lucca mumbles.

I thought he was unconscious, but he heard enough.

Autumn returns with towels and a first aid kit. Strands of her hair fall away from the make-shift bun held together with a pencil at the top of her head, and her glasses are dangling on the tip of her nose. But her voice is steady and so are her motions.

She shoves a folded towel against Lucca’s shoulder and gets to work on unbuttoning his shirt. But as she runs her hands down his thigh, she freezes.

She lifts her blood-soaked fingers, ignoring the smears coating her light blue dress. “Sal, your friend has been stabbed and shot in the leg. He needs a hospital and emergency surgery.”

“No,” Lucca bites. “We need to get the fuck out of here.”

“You’re not going to make it to morning unless you’re treated,” Autumn insists. “You’re losing too much blood.”

Aedry’s hand cups my shoulder. “Sal,” she says. “We have to get him to a hospital.”

She barely gets the words out when the side door whips open. In one motion I stand, my piece out, pointed, and ready to fire.

Aedry and Autumn scramble to stand as Devan stills in place with his hands out. “The main roads are flooded,” he says. “There’s no getting to the airport or the hospital tonight.”

“Then call for help,” Autumn snaps, showing me a side of her I’ve never seen. “This man needs treatment.”

Devan’s gaze passes along Lucca before returning to me. “There’s no getting out,” he repeats.

I house my piece. “He was attacked when his car broke down,” I say. “They took his money and left him on the road like this.”

Devan doesn’t miss a beat. “There is a local gang responsible for attacking tourists. The police don’t do anything. Half their profit goes to them.”

It’s bullshit and I know it. Neither Aedry or Autumn appear to notice. Aedry kneels in front of Autumn as she resumes her inspection of Lucca’s injuries. “Do you think you can help him?”

Autumn works fast, cleaning Lucca’s wounds. “Not with what I have.” Her eyes widen when Lucca removes his hand from his shoulder and a gush of blood seeps out. She slaps a fresh towel against the wound, ordering Aedry to keep the pressure on it.

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