Page 57 of Ruthless Guardian

“Raf!” Isabella’s cry sends my heart leaping up my throat. I spin around and see her crawling out into the open.

“What the hell are you doing?” I lunge for her and jerk her back a second before another bullet speeds by.

“Jeff’s been hit.” She points at the intern huddled beneath a table, his hand pressed to his stomach. “We have to help him.”

“You aren’t going anywhere until the shooter is down,” I growl.

“But I can help him!”

“And die in the process? Fuck no.”

“Then come with me!”

“What good am I to you, if I’m dead, too?”

“Raf, please! I can’t just leave him there.” Her eyes are wide, pleading, and fuck me, I can’t say no.

“Cazzo, Isabella, you really are going to be the death of me.”

CHAPTER 28

HOLD ON

Isabella

Adrenaline rushes my veins as I crawl toward Jeff with Raf draped over me. It makes our movements painfully slow trying to move in unison with the barrage of bullets spraying the air.

“Stay down and stay close,” Raf growls in my ear.

“I am. You’re literally on top of me. How much closer do you want?”

A devious grin twitches at the corner of his lip, but it’s gone before I can fixate on it.

“Just keep moving,” I hiss. I’m cursed. There is no other explanation. How is it possible that I can’t even have one night of fun without all hell breaking loose? And in Rome? Which of my father’s enemies even knows I’m here?

I fix my gaze to Jeff, the pallid green of his complexion and the sweat beading his brow, and my heart wrenches. And now he’s paying the price… I’d been stupid and selfish to think I could come here and there’d be no consequences. As the damnedKings’ mafia princess, I didn’t get to have normal, even across the whole damned Atlantic Ocean.

When we finally reach the table Jeff’s huddled beneath, Raf pushes me under the tablecloth and arranges the two chairs in front of us like a makeshift barricade.

“Bella… what’s happening?” he mutters.

“I don’t know, but you’re going to be okay,” I whisper as I take his hand. “We all are.”

“The bullet penetrated my abdominal cavity,” he rasps out. “If it tore through my stomach, it could create a hole, leading to leakage of stomach acids and partially digested food into the abdominal cavity, which can cause severe inflammation and infection.”

I press my palm to his flushed cheek and do my best impression of a reassuring smile. “Relax, Jeff. Now is not the time to be regurgitating textbook material. I’m going to do my best to stop the bleeding, then they’ll tend to the wound when we get you to the hospital. You’re going to be okay, I promise.” I ignore the tremor in my voice and inhale slow, measured breaths to decrease the manic pace of pulse.

“I don’t know…”

“I do, so just hold on.”

The sharp rip of fabric tearing sends my heart leaping up my throat before Raf hands me a strip of white cloth he’s stolen from the table. He’s already ripping through another one with his teeth. “Wrap this over the bullet wound and around his waist to slow the blood flow.”

“Right.” I should know this, damn it. What kind of an emergency room doctor am I going to be if I get flustered in the chaos?

I draw in a deep breath and focus on all the years of studying, the endless labs and countless tests. I can do this.Assess thesituation, stabilize the patient, control the bleeding, prevent infection… My professors’ words echo in my mind.

“You got him?” Raf asks, eyes wild but voice as steady as a surgeon’s hand. Damn it, why can’t I be like him, so cool and collected?

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