Page 38 of The Don

Storm straightens and barks several times.

Shit, what’s going on? Who’s here? Is it him? Has he come to take me?

My breathing is loud, and I try to calm myself so I can be quiet. But the harder I try, the more my heart thumps and the pounding in my ears is amplifying all the noises.

I think I’m going to be sick.

Storm backs up to the bed, he stands protectively in front of me. “What is it?” Storm bares his teeth as he continues staring at the door.

I take several deep breaths, and with every ounce of courage I have, I push the sheets off of me and stand. Tiptoeing over to the door, I place my ear to it, hoping to hear something other than the loud and scared thumping of my heart.

Storm tries to push me back, but I stay where I am, listening.

My breath evens as my panic eases. There’s yelling from downstairs. I try to listen to what’s being said.

Something about a doctor. And I think I hear someone say the word shot.

Pain radiates through my body. Who’s been shot? Is it Ruben? No, it can’t be. I tear the door open and fly down the stairs. The house is overrun with a lot of men in suits. “What’s going on?” I ask as I stand at the foot of the stairs, watching their frantic states.

“Get her out of here,” someone yells.

One of the guys tries to physically move me, but Storm goes on the attack. I give Storm the command to let him go, and the guy pulls his gun on Storm.

“Don’t you dare,” I say as I stand in front of Storm, who was fighting to protect me.

“The fucking dog attacked,” the guy yells with his gun pointed at Storm.

“You’re lucky I told him not to. Now, what the fuck is going on?” The cursing isn’t something I usually do.

“Mr. Sacco’s been hurt.”

All the air leaves my lungs, and I stumble backward and grip the banister. “Hurt?”

Maria approaches and swings her arm around my waist. “The doctor will be here soon, as will Signore Sacco.”

“What do you know, Maria?” Her robe is pulled tight around her body, her hair up in an easy bun. Maria’s eyes are wide as she looks around the flurry of activity in the room. She’s worried about Ruben, and that concerns me. “Is he going to be okay?” I ask in a small voice.

“Where’s Mr. Sacco?” a man carrying a medical bag asks. Clearly, he’s the doctor.

“He’ll be here in thirty seconds,” one of the other men replies.

I wrap my arms around my torso, just watching what’s happening in the foyer of this beautiful, big house. Ruben has a cavalry of men all working together, but now all waiting too.

The doctor heads down the hallway where there are a few rooms and Ruben’s office. I follow him and see he opens the door two down from the office. “Can I help?” I ask.

He startles back and places his hand to his chest. “You frightened me, young lady.” He lifts his medical bag and places it on one of the shelves. He looks me up and down and asks, “Do you know your way around stitches and bandages?”

Stitches? How badly hurt is Ruben? My heart feels like it’s sitting at the base of my throat. “I’ve stitched up my share of cuts.” Too often.

“You must be Eliza,” the doctor says.

I step further into the room and offer my hand. Storm extends his neck to sniff the doctor. “Josiah,” he says and quickly shakes my hand. “I need you to set up a saline drip. Do you know how to do it?” He looks like what I imagine a Josiah to be.

“Storm.” I turn to him and give him the instruction to stay to the side, where I know he’s out of the way. I walk over to his medical bag, and find the extendable silver thing to hang a saline bag on. “This?” He glances at me while he’s preparing everything and gives me a nod.

“I need you to go wash your hands thoroughly, then return. I have gloves for you. Don’t touch anything after you wash your hands, not even the faucet.”

I nod and rush to the bathroom where I spend a few minutes scrubbing and washing my hands. I’m careful not to touch anything, but when I leave the bathroom my stomach twists when I see a few of Ruben’s men carrying him in.

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