Page 39 of The Don

“Oh my God,” I whisper and rush ahead into the room. “Ruben’s hurt.”

In only the few moments I’ve been in the bathroom, the doctor has a collapsible table extended and has set out all the things he needs to help Ruben. “Gloves.” He pointedly looks toward two sets of surgical gloves individually wrapped in sterile packaging. The area has been transformed into a makeshift emergency hospital room. The doctor disappears just as Ruben’s being lifted onto the table.

His eyes flicker open and he sees me as I pull the gloves on, then open the other pack for the doctor. “Amorina, you need to leave,” Ruben says between groans. His white shirt is now half crimson from all the blood that’s soaked into it. He has some cuts on his face too.

“No, I’m not going anywhere.” He cringes as he tries to breathe. “What happened?”

“None of your business,” one of his men abruptly replies.

“You don’t talk to her,” Ruben spits as he attempts to stand from the makeshift bed. I rush over and place a hand to his chest to calm him.

The guy takes a step backward. “Sorry,” he murmurs and turns away. His lips move as if he’s whispering something not audible.

Ruben catches the guy’s silent grumble and he looks around the room. “What is it?” I ask. “What do you need?”

“Dante.” I run out of the room to search for him, but he’s not here. Dante is always wherever Ruben is, so where is he? I run back to the room and shake my head. I hope he’s not hurt.

“Alright, Mr. Sacco. What’s happened this time?” Josiah asks as he enters the room like he doesn’t have a care in the world. He holds his hands out for me to help slide the gloves on him. “Dante said you were stabbed.” The doctor cranes his neck, gesturing toward Ruben’s shirt. “I need you to cut that off,” he instructs me.

I look at all the tools he’s set out, and there are two pairs of scissors. “The bigger ones?” I ask the doctor.

“Yes.” I pick them up, and even though my hands are trembling, I cut the fabric away so the doctor can get a better look. “Turn him on his side,” he instructs two of Ruben’s men.

Ruben is so much stronger than I could ever be in this situation. He’s not yelling or crying, he’s taking the pain and other than grunts and groans and screwing up his face, he’s not really responding to it. Dante enters the room, and pushes the guy who told me off out of the way. “He and I need to have a talk,” Ruben says as he pointedly looks at the guy. “Get out.”

Dante advances toward the guy, grabs him by the collar, and throws him out of the room like he’s a damn rag doll. The guy falls backward, punching a hole in the hallway wall with the force of Dante’s throw. “How bad is it, Doc?” Dante asks once he’s back in the room.

Josiah holds his hand up as he examines the wound, then gestures for me to come over to him. “See this?” He points to the wound, and I nod. “The guy tried to go for the kidneys, but judging by where the wound is, it looks like Ruben turned, which means it’s more shallow than a deep wound.”

“Why is there so much blood?”

“Why wouldn’t there be?”

I keep looking at the entry point and narrow my eyes. “It doesn’t look like it was done with a knife. Could it have been something like a screwdriver?”

“It was,” Dante replies.

“I should get you to the hospital to make sure it didn’t puncture any organs.”

“Stitch me up,” Ruben says.

“If it’s nicked an organ though, you’ll need surgery,” Josiah says, trying to convince Ruben.

“Stitch me up,” he repeats.

Josiah looks to me and says, “We’re not going to need an IV drip, but I’ll get everything ready to stitch the wound.” He taps Ruben’s leg. “Don’t blame me if you need surgery and bleed to death.”

“Can you be any more dramatic?” Ruben scoffs. “It’s just a scratch.”

“A scratch that’ll need at least ten stitches,” Josiah adds. “You’re going to have to take it easy for a week so you can heal.”

Ruben’s face contorts in pain, but he holds in the low grumble. “Patch me up, I’ll be fine.”

“Sir,” Dante says and looks between the doctor and Ruben. Ruben turns his head so I can’t see his face, but the fact that Dante nods, then looks over to the doctor tells me Ruben’s silenced him and won’t entertain the thought of going to the hospital.

“Let’s get this started.” Josiah heads over to everything he’s laid out on the table and picks up a syringe and a small vial of something. “I’ll give you a local anesthetic so you can’t feel me sewing you up.” He looks at me and pointedly gestures over toward the equipment he has set up. “You’ll find a vial of lidocaine, and a syringe.” I walk over to the tray and find three vials.

“Got it.” I lift the lidocaine.

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