Page 60 of Fragile Union

“Boz and Reilly are home, the bullets were through and throughs. Makenna made them go home and rest. I’m sorry, doll face, Malachy didn’t make it.”

God, why would anyone do this? It makes no bloody sense. I can’t wrap my head around the destruction they caused.

I lick my lips as my gaze darts between the two men who mean the most to me in this world. Both of whom have pained expressions on their faces, no doubt from my tears. “Who took me?” I don’t know his name; I have no idea who or why he did it.

“He’s the head of the Mexican organized crime family. They deal more in drugs than anything else,” Da explains.

I frown and pain explodes between my eyes at the movement. God, even moving my brows is painful, that arsehole sure did some damage. “Why? I didn’t think either the Irish or the Italian’s were at war with them.”

I need to understand why this happened.

“That’s something we’re not entirely sure about. See, neither of us are at war with them, or weren’t,” Rome tells me, his jaw clenched. “But we do know that he and Georgina were in it together.”

My blood runs cold at his words, and then I remember what the man said to me. “Pussy is only good when the woman is soft and sweet to the outside world but a whore between the sheets. Pussy that’s filled with venom on the outside and used between the sheets is fucking useless. That motherfucking bitch played me like a fiddle.”

“He didn’t know about you,” I tell Rome. “He kept calling me Ms. Gallagher.” My voice is shaky as the pain throughout my body intensifies. “When I told him that I was Mrs. Bianchi. He lost his mind. He had no idea we were married. Georgina played him,” I explain to them, but neither look like they care. “Is he dead?”

It’s Romero that answers, his voice thick with anger and darkness. “Not yet, we needed to be here. Make sure that you’re okay.”

The blackness is pulling at me as sleep tries to claim me. “Make him pay,” I slur as my eyes flutter close.

I hear movement, the scraping of a chair against the floor. Then there’s hands on me. A light kiss against my forehead. “Sleep, Baby-girl. I’ll be back later,” Da promises me and he pulls away from me.

Then Romero’s scent fills my nostrils and I inhale it, fighting against the pull to stay awake, to be here with my husband. His hands frame my face, his lips lingering on mine ever so softly.

“I’ve got you baby. I’m going to make it hurt; I’m going to make him regret hurting you,” he vows as he whispers. “No one hurts you.”

“Love…” I breathe, “you.”

His forehead rests against mine, just as the darkness takes me, the last thing I hear him say is, “I know doll face. I love you too.”

* * *

Gunshots soundand a scream lodges in my throat.

Granda’s lying on the ground, a bullet hole in his face, blood seeping out of it. “Hol…” The gurgling sound is too much. I can’t help the whimper that escapes me.

“I’m so sorry,” I weep, this should have never happened. He should be alive and happy, ready to meet his newest grandchild.

“Ah, Ms. Gallagher,” the man sneers as he lifts his gun and aims it at me. The sound of the gunshot is loud and reverberates around my head.

I suck in a deep breath as I lurch forward, my eyes opening widely as I try and fight the pain. It’s then I realise I’m in the hospital, the memories return, and sadness hits me deeply, cutting through the pain of my injuries and adding to them.

There’s a beeping noise which breaks through the heartache, I glance around the room and see it’s the machine I’m hooked up to going crazy. The door opens and a nurse walks in, a beautiful smile on her face.

“Hey, there darlin’, are you in pain?”

I nod, unsure if I’m able to speak right now.

“Let me take a look and see if I can help with that.” She reaches for my chart and begins to flick through it.

The door opens once again, and I smile when I see Edwina pushing Jade in a wheelchair. “Aww, good, you’re awake, I checked in with you earlier, but you were asleep, and I didn’t want to disturb you,” Edwina tells me as comes to a stop beside my bed.

Jade instantly reaches out and curls her hand around mine. “I was so worried,” she tells me, her lips pursed as anger rolls through her eyes.

“I’m okay,” I assure her, and I feel as though I’ll be saying that for a while now.

The nurse gives me some painkillers and tells me to call her if I need anything.

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