Page 112 of Skin Deep

“Kee, he’s—”

“You don’t get to tell me what he is! Give me your phone! Now!” She held out her hand, and Owen set his phone in her palm. “Keep an eye out,” she told him while she dialed a number. She asked for Mac and then shouted, “Put him on the phone!” He must have answered, and she said, “Your uncle—” Another cry left her mouth, and she put a hand over her lips to cover it. It stained her face red with blood. “I need him. Here. My husband is dying!”

She’d called Mac begging for Tito Sala. She knew if anyone would give her husband a fighting chance, it was the Italian doctor who seemed to have healing hands for gangsters. She must have forgotten about my wife. She could have called him, too. But she wasn’t thinking straight.

After a minute, the phone fell from her hands and she muttered, “Ten minutes.”

For ten minutes that felt like ten fucking years, we all kept pressure on the spots that seemed the worst. They had come close to butchering him. And then Dr. Sala hurried onto the scene. Another doctor was next to him. Dr. Carter. They started working on the sidewalk. We all looked at each other when the word “artery” was mentioned. Susan had come close to nicking it.

My eyes found my wife again. She was standing in the doorway, the gun finally down. She met my eyes.

“I’m okay,” she said.

I nodded.

An ambulance arrived a minute later, the lights going around and around, lighting up all the faces of the dead on the street. My phone pinged a second later. Mac had texted me an address—I knew it was one of their places. The same kind of place they had taken Lach and Owen to when they’d been wounded. I put my arm around my sister as they lifted Kelly and set him on the gurney. Dr. Sala and Dr. Carter ran with them, shouting out orders.

Kee went to run behind them, but I kept her in place. “This is where we need to go.” I showed her my phone.

“What hospital?” Her teeth chattered, and I held onto her tighter.

“Kee,” I whispered, everything in me hurting for my little sister. “They have their own places. Places that are set up with all the equipment they need. Even the ambulance belongs to them. C’mon. I’ll drive you.”

We stopped when Mac and Rocco started to make their way toward us. I shook Rocco’s hand first. I hesitated, but only for a second, then offered my hand to Mac. I could feel my wife’s eyes on us. He took it.

Mac looked around. “How many archers are there in New York City?” The feathers from Kee’s arrows were trembling with the slight wind. They were all stuck in bodies. “Ones that can do this much damage?”

All three of us looked directly at her as Lach, Declan, and Owen came to stand next to us.

“We will clean this up,” Rocco said, nodding. He touched my sister on the shoulder. “My uncle will do what he can for your husband. Go now and be with him.”

I held out my hand for my wife as we headed toward my car. She took it, holding on to me as tightly as I was holding on to her. She sat up front with me as we went in search of the address Mac had texted. Her eyes lit up with the screen on the phone. She told me where to turn, and I nodded.

She touched me on the arm. It was so fucking gentle and warm that I felt like a piece of me had melted into it. “My uncle will do what he can for your sister’s heart,” she whispered.

Kee grabbed for the pendant around her neck, holding onto it like it was her only lifeline.

“If you die on me, you bastard,” she whispered, “I’ll never forgive you for not showing me what’s inside of this heart!” Then she whispered words, more words, and I was starting to wonder if she was in shock. She refused to look at me through the mirror.

“Here—” Georgina whispered but pointed hard. “This is it.”

It was a relief that it only took us a few minutes to get there—that meant it had only taken Dr. Sala a few minutes to get Kelly where he needed him. From the outside, the place looked like an abandoned warehouse. One of the Faustis let us inside.

The place had been transformed. It was the equivalent of an emergency room, but maybe better equipped. Kelly had been brought to a room, and whatever was going on inside seemed chaotic.

Dr. Sala made eye contact with us and then told a nurse to shut the door. My sister’s eyes refused to move away from the room. I took her by the shoulders and led her to a chair. Part of the place was set up like a waiting room. A glass of water seemed to appear in my hand. One of the Faustis had handed it to Georgina to give to me. I tried to hand it to my sister, but she shoved it away.

Georgina handed it back to the man with a whisperedgrazie, then she told him something in Sicilian and squeezed my arm. Her strength felt like it was keeping me up. I hadn’t even had a chance to fully comprehend what she’d done for me. She saved my life.

We took seats next to my sister, my wife’s grip still solid. As the clock ticked on the wall, more people started to arrive. My brothers. Mari. She took Keely by the hand and held on tight. More Fausti men, who told my sister they knew her husband and respected him.

Mari told Kee something after the last one headed toward an area that seemed like a kitchen, and I could tell she was close to losing it.

Lachlan nodded toward an area of the warehouse that was dark and quiet. I squeezed Georgina’s hand and told her I’d be back in a second. She nodded, resting her head against the wall, closing her eyes. Her mouth was moving—whispered prayers.

Lachlan ran a hand through his hair. He was soaked with blood, and he smelled like gunpowder. “Who the fuck?” he said, keeping his voice down, stopping with his hands on the sides of his head.

I shrugged. “Could be anyone.”

---