Page 40 of The Don

“What are you, Ruben? Two hundred pounds?”

“Two-twenty,” Ruben corrects.

“He’ll need two injections, so bring it over.” I take the vial and the syringe to the doctor. “Draw five mils.” I look at him, confused. What the hell is “mils”? “Milliliters. The number on the side of the syringe.”

“Ah.” I look and see it’s clearly marked. With shaky hands, I take the cap off the needle part, poke it into the top of the vial, and draw the liquid to the measurement he specified. “Here you go.” I offer him the syringe. He takes it, and while holding the wound closed, he begins to inject it into Ruben.

He hands me the empty syringe and I repeat the process.

“How long does it take for it to work?” I ask as I watch him inject Ruben with the second dose.

“Not long. Maybe thirty or forty seconds. By the time this is in, the first lot will already be numb.”

“Wow,” I whisper.

“You’re not grossed out by all of this?”

I guess I should be, but I’ve patched myself up so many times that I’m somewhat used to it. “No, not really.” He hands me the now empty syringe, and I place the cap over it and throw it in the trash.

I stand back and take a breath. In the moments of craziness, I didn’t really take notice of the tattoos on Ruben. His entire side is covered in something that I can’t quite work out because I can’t see it in its entirety.

“Dante, grab me that seat.” Josiah looks to the office chair in the room. Dante rolls it over, and Josiah sits. “Can you feel this?” He stabs the needle he’ll use to stitch him near the wound.

“No.”

My eye twitches when he repeats it a few times. “This?”

My skin erupts in goose bumps as I watch the doctor. “No.”

“We’re good to go.” The doctor spends the next half hour stitching up Ruben while I assist where I can and watch the remainder of the time. Storm lies on the floor, watching me carefully.

“Looks good,” Josiah says when he finishes with the last stitch. He stands and takes a step back, looking at his stitches. He rips his gloves off and walks over to where he’s laid everything out. “You need to take these to stop any infection that may happen.” He places a yellow bottle on the table. “And, I’m also giving you these.” He takes a white bottle out of his medicine bag and places it next to the yellow one. “Painkillers.”

“I don’t need those,” Ruben says adamantly.

Josiah shakes his head. “You might change your mind when the lidocaine wears off. I’ll leave them just in case you do. Take them or don’t; it’s up to you.” He packs his bag, then collects all the things he used in stitching Ruben up. “Keep it clean and dry. I’ll be back in a few days to check on the stitches. And for the love of God, Ruben, don’t do anything strenuous that could make them pop. If there’s any nausea, vomiting, or excessive pain, call me.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ruben flicks his hand at the doctor as Dante helps him up.

“I’ll be back in a few days.” He takes his medical bag and starts toward the door. “You should think about going into the medical field, Eliza.”

My face splits into a massive smile. That’s the best non-compliment compliment I think I’ve ever received. “Thank you.”

He tips his head and walks out of the room.

“You should rest,” Dante says to Ruben.

“I’ll be fine.” Ruben slides off the table and begins to take off his shirt. “I’m going to take a shower, then we have work to do.”

I stand back and watch as they all file out of the room, leaving just Storm and me behind. The room is a mess. There’s blood on the foldable table, gauze on the floor where the doctor cleaned Ruben’s wound. I inhale deeply and assess the chaos in the room.

“Eliza.” Maria appears at the door, looking at the mess. “You should go and see if he’s okay. I’ll take care of this.” She sweeps her hand to gesture at the room.

“I can’t leave this for you.”

“He won’t let me in there, but you, he will.” I bite on the inside of my cheek and lower my gaze. “Just check that he’s okay, that’s all.”

Nervousness floods me as I wring my gloved hands together. “O-okay,” I whisper. I swallow the dryness lodged in my throat as I peel the gloves off and throw them into the trash. Storm stands and follows me out of the room. The clicking of his toenails on the marble floors tells me he’s right behind me. I climb the staircase, turn toward Ruben’s wing, and hesitate. But I push past my own insecurities and head down to his suite to check on him. The door is wide open, and I stand at the opening looking in. “Hello?” I say in a tiny voice. My body moves from foot to foot as I fiddle with the hem of my t-shirt.

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