Page 100 of Straightened Out

“You got the bullet?” Joaquin asks.

“Sure did.”

“How is he?”

“Critical but stable,” he answers, dropping the tweezer and the bullet back in the dish. He hands it off to Richie and pulls the latex gloves from his hands. “The man needs a hospital and another transfusion.”

“I can give more blood,” I say, holding out my arm. The doctor looks at me before bringing his eyes to my brother, completely dismissing me.

“I gave him morphine for the pain and antibiotics, but—”

I don’t let him continue. I’m too anxious to see him with my own eyes. Too desperate to bleach the memory of him gasping for breath and bleeding out from my mind.

“Can I see him?”

Annoyed I interrupted him, his gaze cuts back to me.

“He’s not conscious.”

“I don’t care. I just need to see him.”

The doctor looks at Joaquin for direction and I watch my brother give him the slightest hint of a nod. Then I take off for the bedroom, leaving the two of them to go over Rocco’s plan of care. As soon as I step foot inside the bedroom my eyes fill with tears. I rush to his side and take his hand when all I really want to do is lay my head on his chest and hear his heartbeat. I lift his hand and press my lips to his wrist, lingering for a moment until I feel his pulse beat against my lips.

Closing my eyes, I silently thank God.

As long as he’s alive, there is hope.

There is love.

Chapter 35

Rocco Spinelli

At the end of a man’s life he won’t reflect on all the scores he settled. He won’t revel in the power he had or the ranks he climbed to get it. He won’t count his wins, but he will measure his regrets. I know this to be a fact because after that bullet hit me, that’s exactly what happened. I stared into Violet’s eyes and I wished for more time. More moments spent loving her and not missing her. Another chance and not to say goodbye, but to make it right.

I’ve never been a man of faith, but when I opened my eyes and saw Violet sitting beside my bed, still covered in my blood, I became a believer. It wasn’t luck that saved me. It wasn’t skill. It was God. He wanted me to be better. To have another shot at this life. To repent my sins.

“You’re awake,” she said, her voice hoarse. There were tears streaming down her pretty face too, tears I wanted so desperately to brush away, but I couldn’t move. I could barely speak. My throat was dry, and it felt as if there was a cinderblock laying on my chest.

She leaned forward and took my face in her hands. Our eyes locked and a sad smile slowly spread across her face.

“You’re really awake,” she whispered.

I forced my lips apart and struggled to say the only words that mattered.

“I…love…you.”

It came out as a whisper, but I was sure she heard it and that was enough for me. I closed my eyes and drifted back to sleep. When I woke again, some hours later, she was still at my side. She had changed her clothes and was sleeping in the chair next to the bed.

“She won’t leave the room.”

I tried to turn at the sound of Joaquin’s voice, but as soon as I moved my head, I felt like I was going to throw up. He must’ve noticed my discomfort and moved to my line of sight.

“Bullet got lodged in your chest,” he reveals, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “Doc was able to get it out, but you lost a lot of blood.” He pauses and looks at Violet. “Did you know the two of you share the same blood type?”

I forced a swallow, biting through the pain and managed a single word.

“No.”

---