Page 90 of Tesio
He was wearing scrubs, but no gloves, and there was blood on his top, which just had to be Grease’s, right? Oh god! I’d wanted this update so desperately, but suddenly I was so terrified of the words he’d speak, that I wanted him to never open his mouth.
“Okay, he’s out of surgery, love.”
I waited for more, for something good, or bad, but that was it. He nodded, patting my shoulder.
“He’s moving into recovery, so give us a little while to get him settled, and we’ll bring you in to wait with him.”
“Wait. That’s it? He’s really okay?”
“Like I said, it was a simple gunshot, and he’s fine. He took a blow to the head as well, but we’ve done scans, and there’s no issue there.”
“He’s… he’s going to live?”
“It’s just a bullet, dammit, he’ll walk it off,” one of the mafia guys grumbled, but Jeffrey, whose name I just remembered, just rolled his eyes.
“No organs were damaged, although he lost a lot of blood. Now let’s arrange to get you in there before he wakes up. If bikers are anything like the men I know, he’ll be raising merry hell in there as soon as he’s awake.”
A low cheer erupted around the room, with some unsavoury comments I chose to ignore.
“Thank you. My god, I don’t know where you came from, but thank you!”
He nodded, and left the area as rapidly as he’d appeared.
“He’s amazing. He’s the club doctor?”
Micro laughed. “We don’t have one. I mean, the other chapter do, but no, not him. He’s connected to those club guys.”
And they let him help us? Maybe they weren’t so bad after all.
A moment later, that was disproved, as Luca let out a string of curses, while looking at his phone.
“They’re already making demands for favours to be repaid?”
“Who?”
“Those fucking London mobsters. Pair of uncouth assholes. I’ll put them in the ground myself.”
Tesio / Grease / Dead Meat
Waking up in ahospital bed was frustrating, but at least my little pain was right there beside me. She was asleep, with her face on the bed beside me, but she was right there with me. There was nobody else in the private room, and no shadows at the door, so whether there was a mafia presence here, I had no idea. What mattered was that she was here with me.
I didn’t want to wake her, but I found myself stroking her hair with an admittedly heavy arm, as exhaustion seemed to practically pin me to the bed.
“Wha… Grease! Oh my god, you’re awake!” She moved in my direction, and then hesitated, eyeing me with concern.
“What?”
“I want to hug you, but I don’t want to injure your uh… where you were injured.”
“Oh, that’s basically just a flesh wound, baby, get up here.”
Her eyes widened at me. “I most certainly won’t ‘get up here’. I’m too mad at you!”
What the fuck. “Mad at me? What the hell did I do?”
That was so definitely the wrong fucking question. She launched into a high pitched tirade about danger, and mafia, and bullets, and me being a prick, but soon dissolved into tears instead. The poor thing. It might be just another day for a man like me, but this was all too much for someone who’d lived a more sheltered life.
“Aw baby, I’m sorry, come here. Seriously, let me hold you.”
