Chapter 12 Harper
Aweek and a half goes by smoothly. Ivy doesn’t bother us in that time.
I like Ava. I ended up helping her with her math homework almost every day while she was here.
She’s been texting me after school when she has questions.
With another week starting it’s been quiet without her in the house. I actually find myself missing her.
On Wednesday, Nic has to go out of town.
Apparently, I can be trusted to go to school alone every once in a while.
Though for some reason that makes me feel odd the whole day.
I found myself wanting to send irritated looks to Nic while the teacher spent half the class recapping the last class only to look at an empty chair.
The most upsetting thing is that Nic not being here leaves me and Vin to figure out what to do for dinner on our own. I look at him, and he looks at me. “Sooo… Do you know how to cook?” he asks me.
My lips roll in, “I guess so, if we’re counting ramen noodles.”
He frowns like I’ve offended him. Apparently, that doesn’t count. He folds himself into a seat at the island. “Do you like sushi?”
I grin, “Yes! But only if it’s cooked.” I hate the texture of raw fish.
Vin stands up and reaches into his pocket to pull out a set of car keys. “Let’s go get some then.”
I blink at him for a moment, “You’re driving?”
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?” He holds his hand to his chest like he’s been offended.
“I know you can drive. You just usually get picked up by a driver,” I explain.
He shrugs, “It’s more of a power play than anything else.”
I’m not sure exactly what that means, but I don’t ask for clarification.
I really don’t need to know. It’s not like we’re friends or anything.
I do find it strange that he’s got the money to afford a driver, but not a cook.
Though after having Nic’s magical cooking, I wouldn’t want to hire a chef either.
“Come on. Let’s go eat.” He reaches over and clasps my hand with his.
I freeze for a moment, but he pulls me behind him. I hadn’t expected Vin to hold my hand like Nic does. It was surprising, but I try not to think about it or the flutter that goes through my stomach at the action.
We park across the street in a reserved parking section for the restaurant and have to cross to get there.
I suddenly feel out of place. It looks like a fancy place, and neither of us are dressed for a place like this.
When he walks up to the hostess stand, there’s no strange looks in our direction; we’re just whisked away to a small private room.
We’re left with menus and the soft sound of trickling water from a fountain in the corner of the room. I look around at all the pretty decorations. “Isn’t this a little much for a random Monday?”
Vin shrugs, “It’s special. It’s the first time I’ve gone out to eat with you.” My cheeks heat, and I have no idea what to say to that. “Oh my god. Are you blushing? You’re totally blushing.”
I slap my hands over my cheeks, “I am not! It’s just warm in here.”
Vin laughs, and I stop moving. Hell, I even stop breathing to watch how bright and happy he looks while he laughs.
While he and his brother are identical, they act so differently.
Seeing Vin laughing like this makes a pang go through my chest. He doesn’t do it nearly enough.
I don’t even notice that I’m staring at him until his face falls, and he tilts his head at me. “What?”
I shake my head, “I was just thinking about something.”
His brows lower over his eyes, “About what?”
I bite the inside of my cheek. Gah! It’s not like we’re friends, so what’s he going to do if I ask a question he doesn’t like? Set me free? Oh no…
Seriously, oh no, I don’t want to have to pay rent again.
“Come on. Just say it,” he prompts.
“I was just wondering why Nic’s always so carefree while you’re always so… serious.” I manage to find a more polite way to express what I’m thinking.
Vin frowns, looking down at the table between us.
“Well, our family was very traditional. I was born first, even if it was only by a few minutes. So, I’m the one that took over when the rest of the family was arrested.
I shielded Nic from everything I could since we were kids.
It pisses him off to no end that I don’t let him help, but I just don’t want the bad things I do to touch him.
We may be the same age but he’s still my little brother. ”
I practically melt at the thought of this man loving his brother so much that he would take on the darkness of their existence just so he can live in the light. Is that what having a real family is supposed to be like?
I wouldn’t know. My mom has always been… complicated.
When the waitress comes in, I realize that I haven’t even looked at the menu.
That doesn’t matter, though, because Vin just orders for the both of us.
I order a soda, and he orders a Japanese whiskey.
Then he smiles at me once the waitress leaves, “If you don’t want to drive home, I can call my driver to pick us up. ”
I smile and shrug, “Well, it wouldn’t be the first time I took you for a drive.”
He laughs, “Yeah. To be honest, though, I’m kind of glad that it happened. We got to meet you.”
Okay… Something in me is definitely broken. Why the hell does that make me happy? Maybe I should book the room next to my mother in the mental hospital.
Our drinks are brought in shortly before the sushi. I realize that he mostly ordered rolls with cooked fish or crab. I try a bit of all of them. The fish is fresh, and I would hate to see the bill for a dinner like this.
When we finish, we both sit back in our seats with a sigh. “That was really good. Thank you for dinner,” I tell him.
A small, shy smile spreads across his lips. “You’re welcome. Now, do you want dessert?”
I shake my head, “I’m so full I might literally explode if I try to eat anything else.”
Vin laughs, “Okay then. Let’s head back home.”
He stands from the table, and I do the same but then pause, “Don’t we need to pay first?”
He waves his hand, “Nah. We own the place, so they’ll just subtract it from our net profits for the month.”
My mouth opens at that, but nothing comes out. I don’t know much about their ‘organization’ from what I do know, it’s some kind of mafia or criminal network kind of thing. If it’s passed along down the family, that makes me lean toward mafia.
What the hell have I gotten myself into? I seem to be asking myself that question a lot lately.
Secretly, a part of me just wants to get a look at their books. I want to see how they’re making all their less-than-legal income look legit. They’ve got to be cooking the books somehow, and I just want to see if I can spot the lies.
I follow Vin out into the cool night. He holds the keys out for me, and I accept them. Grabbing my hand, he stops at the curb. We have to wait a few minutes to cross for cars to pass. Next to the car, I reach for the handle of the door at the same time Vin does.
We smile at each other. We’re too busy smiling at each other like fools to notice the car slowing with their window down. Vin notices first, glancing over as a hand sticks out of the window holding a handgun pointed directly at me. The world seems to slow down, and I can’t seem to make myself move.
Vin yells something before he grabs me by the shoulders and takes me to the ground. The noise of the gun is still loud in my ears. Nobody really tells you that a silencer doesn’t completely silence a gunshot.
“You’re okay. You’re okay. It’s all going to be okay,” Vin practically chants as he continues to hold me.
I don’t feel any pain besides where my back hit the pavement. Vin’s hand is holding the back of my head to protect it. I feel a warmth trickling down my arm. I pull it free from between us to find blood smeared all over me. Oh shit! Did I just get shot?
Vin winces, and I realize that I’m not the one that was hurt; he is.
Running my hands over him, I realize his shirt is soaked with blood.
I roll him off of me and onto his stomach as gently as I can to find the bullet wounds.
He was shot at least twice. I don’t even think about it as I rip my T-shirt off over my head and press it to the bleeding wounds over his left shoulder.
“Fuck. It’s gonna be fine,” I tell him.
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I dial 911 while keeping pressure on the wounds with my other hand. I put the phone on speaker and put it on the pavement next to us so I can use both hands to put as much pressure on his shoulder as I can.
“911, what is the nature of your emergency?” a man’s voice says from the speaker.
“Please help! We need an ambulance. He was shot. There’s so much blood!” I don’t even know what I’m saying, the words are just coming out of my mouth.
“What is your location?” he asks, and I can hear typing in the background.
“We’re in front of a restaurant.” I look up and read the sign. “It’s called Oishii. I don’t know what road this is. I can’t see any signs from where I am.”
“Are you in Manhattan?”
“Yes!” I shout, still putting all my strength into keeping pressure on Vin’s shoulder.
“Okay, ma’am, help is on the way. Have you administered any CPR? Is he breathing?” I take a deep breath to calm myself. Someone was coming to help. “Ma’am?” the operator calls out when I don’t answer right away.
“He’s breathing, but I don’t think he’s conscious. I put my shirt over the wounds and am applying pressure,” I tell him.
“Good. You’re doing good,” he tells me with a calm voice. “Just keep holding pressure until the paramedics get there.”
“Okay.” The sound of sirens reaches my ears. “I can hear the sirens!”
“That means they’re close. Let me know when they get there, and I’ll hang up.”
“Okay.” I look down at Vin’s pale face. It’s wavy and distorted. I hadn’t even realized I was crying.
“How is he doing?” the operator asks.
“No change. He’s pale, though. Still breathing,” I tell him.
“That’s good. Keep up the good work.”
I nod like he would be able to see that. A squeal sounds out as the ambulance slams on their brakes beside us. “They’re here!” I tell him.
“Okay, good. I’ll leave you to them then.” The call ends, and two men rush out of the ambulance.
One man crouches next to me while the other gets to work unloading a gurney from the back of the ambulance.
The man next to me looks Vin over and gives me a nod.
“Keep holding pressure.” He reaches into a bag I didn’t even notice beside him and pulls out gauze and pads. “How many entry points?” he barks out.
“T-two,” I stutter.
He nods and does something with the gauze. “Okay, when I say to back up, you’re going to move out of the way so I can pack the wounds.” I nod as he prepares a few things and gets a roll of medical tape. “Now, back up.”
I scramble away from Vin as fast as I can to give him room. I can’t bring myself to look while he ‘packs the wounds,’ not even wanting to know what that entails.
Instead, I look at Vin’s pale face. I don’t know what to do.
Nic isn’t here, and I don’t have a way to contact him.
I should have made sure I had his fucking phone number.
The other paramedic rolls the stretcher to them, and they do some kind of move and put Vin on the thing like he weighs nothing.
I scramble after them, “Where are you taking him?” I demand.
“Bellevue. You can’t ride with us, but you can meet him there. The police will be by in a while to ask some questions,” the other paramedic tells me.
I nod. With one last look at Vin as they close him into the back of the ambulance, I hurry over to his car and start it up. They rush off with the lights and sirens going before I can even get the car into gear.
I don’t even know how fast I drive there.
One moment I’m in the car, the next I’m rushing through the doors to the emergency room.
A nurse sees me, and her eyes widen at the blood all over me as well as the fact that I’m only wearing a bra.
“Where are you injured?” she asks, rushing over to look me over.
I shake my head, “I’m not hurt. I was with the guy that got shot. He’s here, right?” I demand.
The nurse’s face softens, “Come with me. I’ll get you something to wear.”
I keep looking around, “I don’t need anything to wear. I need to know how he’s doing.”
“You can’t walk around like that. Let’s get you washed up first.” I take a second to really look at myself and wince.
Reluctantly, I follow the nurse. She leads me to an area in the back of the emergency room with shelves of things and a sink. She pulls out a pair of disposable scrubs and nods to a door. “Here, honey. There’s a bathroom right there. Go ahead and clean up and put these on.”
I go into the bathroom and lock the door. There’s blood on my bra and my jeans, so I just pull both off and toss them into the garbage. Grabbing a mound of paper towels, I scrub the dried blood off as well as I can before I pull on the disposable scrubs carefully to avoid ripping them.
Leaving the bathroom, I make a crinkly sound, but I do feel a little more human.
The nurse is still waiting where I left her.
She smiles at me, “Okay. So, I asked around, we’ve only gotten one GSW tonight, so I think that’s your guy.
He’s been taken in for emergency surgery.
Is there anything religious that would alter the course of his treatment? ”
I frown, “Not that I know of.”
The nurse frowns at me, “Are you a relative? Nobody but family will be able to go see him.”
I almost freak out and start crying again, “I’m his fiancée,” I say and almost hit myself for it.
Her face softens once more, “Okay. I’ll get you the paperwork. Can you just fill out what you know?”
I nod. She leads me over to a seat in the waiting area and then brings me a clipboard with a packet of papers clipped on. I go through it, only answering the things I know, like his full name, address, and… well, that’s about it.
When I take it back to the counter, the nurse looks over the paperwork and then up at me. “That man is Mr. Moretti?”
I nod my head, “Yeah?”
She pales, “Give me a second, and I’ll get a room set up for him, and you can wait there for him to get done in surgery.”
Wow, they really get things done fast here. I’m sure it has something to do with his last name. It only takes thirty minutes for me to be waiting in a comfortable chair in a large room. I hold my head in my hands and just wait, hoping that everything will turn out okay.