Page 2 of Diavolo

"Even if I manage to get him through the next few hours, shit can still go south while he's in recovery. Infection. Blood clots. Internal bleeding. Trust me, he needs a fucking hospital."

Angrily, Stefano argued, "Does it look like we have time to drive him there? He's half-dead. You're his only hope now."

"Don't let him die," Mikey warned.

Threats no longer fazed her. She heard them so often. Elyse taunted softly, "Or else—what?You’ll kill me?"

Stefano let out a snort of laughter. It was a raspy, unpleasant sound. "If this bastard doesn't survive, we won't be the first in line to bury you. Just know. He's very important toCosa Nostra."

Elyse recognized this chilling entity.Cosa Nostrareferred to the Sicilian Mafia. Stefano and Mikey didn't belong toCosa Nostra. They answered to the Mancini family here in Queens. The Mancinis were vicious and brutal, but their crimes were child’s play compared to the atrocities thatCosa Nostrawas known for. Her cool expression wavered.

Stefano growled, "Anything happens to him tonight? His men will be ready to sink a bullet between your pretty green eyes. You'll be a stain on the ground before you can even blink."

She fell silent for a moment, contemplating the weight of his words. Stefano had never threatened her in this way. At least, not in the sense she might die from a bullet that didn't belong to his Glock. She took the warning to heart.

"Bring him inside," Elyse murmured. "I'll do my best to keep him alive."

The three large men entered her small apartment. Elyse rushed to her closet and pulled out the heavy-duty tarp kept for this sort of situation. Bloodstains were a bitch to clean up. The square of blue plastic was spread across the floor. Elyse then set up her surgical supplies. She always maintained a generous inventory on hand for the injured criminals that Stefano dumped on her. Such as this stranger with a hole in his stomach.

She glanced over. "Were you with him when it happened?"

"Yes."

"How many shots did you hear?"

"Just one. Once we started firing back, the shithead ran off."

This meant there would only beonebullet to worry about.Good. The man's chances of survival ticked up. But she couldn't relax yet. Low, intermediate, and high velocity GSWs required very different levels of care. Oftentimes, it was safer to leave the bullet inside the patient's body. Elyse needed to pinpoint as many details as possible to determine the best course of action. Such as the make and model of the firearm. Or the approximate distance between the shooter and victim. And whether or not there might be an exit wound. There was no time to waste. Every second was precious.

"Tell me everything you remember," Elyse demanded.

After answering the onslaught of questions she fired at them, Stefano and Mikey lowered the bleeding man onto the tarp as though he was made of glass. Never had she seen these two brutes look so anxious. Elyse tried not to let their nerves rattle her. It appeared her new patient wielded some clout inthe underworld, which meant the less she knew about him, the better.La curiosidad mató al gato, and she wasn't keen on being shoved into the Hudson with a sack of bricks tied to her ankles.Curiosity killed the cat.

Elyse took in a deep, shaky breath to get in the zone. Out in the real world, this stranger was likely a killer who wouldn't think twice about slitting her throat. But inside her apartment? He was a patient who needed care. Nothing mattered except his survival. She couldn't lose herself towhat ifsandGod forbids. Not now. Not ever.

Without wasting another second, Elyse snapped on surgical gloves and got to work. A lamp was turned on. Under the light, Elyse cut away her new patient's clothing to inspect the bloody mess up close. Clean wound edges. No bone involvement. Relief eased the tightness in her chest. The bullet sat relatively close to the surface of his skin, and, somehow, by the grace of God, it hadn't shattered on impact. The little fucker could be removed in one piece with minimally invasive surgery. Judging from the position of the entry wound and the shallowness of it, his internal organs seemed to be intact. A promising sign. Of course, without a CT scan or X-ray, she couldn't be sure.

Perhaps, she'd be able to perform a miracle, after all.

In a steady, reassuring voice, Elyse addressed the fading man, "My name is Dr. Elyse Romero. I'm a trauma surgeon from Sawyer Memorial Hospital in Queens, New York. I'm here to help you, and I'll need your cooperation if you want to survive the night."

She instructed Mikey to turn on more lights. As the living room lit up even more, the man's eyes flickered open for a brief moment. Their gazes locked. Her mouth parted in surprise. His eyes were very different colors. The right one was fiercely dark. Almost black. Grim as death. The left was bluish-gray. It reminded her of calm seas after a storm. Such duality wasperplexing. If eyes were windows to the soul, Elyse couldn't tell whether she was about to save a sinner or a saint.

"Angelo..."he whispered.

Was he calling her an angel? She frowned at his sorry state. Sinner or saint, the man's olive-toned skin looked too pale, his breathing was becoming labored, and blood loss was making him delusional.

"I'm no angel," Elyse mumbled as she picked up her scalpel and forceps, "and you'll probably call me a fucking devil by the time I'm done. A warning, my friend, I don't have anesthesia. This shit’s going to hurt like hell."

The man closed his eyes as though in resignation. He replied in heavily accented English, "Do your worst,angelo."

2

Stefano and Mikey helddown the man as Elyse removed the bullet from his body. She operated with the precision of a machine. Lacking anesthesia, all she could offer the poor bastard was a towel between his teeth to dampen the hellish experience. To the stranger's credit, he made every effort to lie still during the operation and only released a handful of groans as Elyse disinfected the area, descended upon his wound, disinfected the area again, and stitched him up.

When the most grueling part of her job was done, she relayed in clipped tones, "That's the best I can do. For now. The rest will be up to him."

At this point, Elyse was only talking to Stefano and Mikey. Her patient had passed out cold. Most likely from pain or fatigue. His vitals were steady, though.Gracias a Dios. Thank God.The stranger had lived. She might live, too.

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