29. Matteo #2
“Understood.” He remained outside since he was not one of the two people I’d just named with entry clearance.
Though it was a maximum of maybe seventy feet between the entrance and our bedroom, it felt like a fucking mile. I practically stumbled inside the ensuite bathroom, collapsing onto the padded bench set before the vanity.
There was blood and brain matter coating her skin, staining the blonde strands of her hair, and I needed to get her into the shower. That would be much easier if she were at least semi-conscious.
“Summer.” I jostled her gently in an attempt to rouse her, only to have her head loll against my arm.
Trying again, I tapped her face. “Come on, bella . I need you to wake up for me.”
A moan slipped past her lips. “Matteo.”
“I’m right here.” I pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “I just need you to open your eyes. Please.” My voice cracked on that final word.
Dark lashes fluttering, they finally lifted, and I watched as the memories of her ordeal came rushing back, and she fucking broke down in my arms.
Sobbing, she trembled violently as she clutched at the fabric of my sweater like she was afraid that if she let go, I might disappear. “R-Rico’s dead, and I-I thought—“
“Shh. I’ve got you. Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?
” I tried desperately to keep my voice soothing, even as my heart fractured inside my chest. Any illusion that I might have been able to shield her from the darkest parts of this world I’d selfishly dragged her into was shattered today.
Tying her to my life made her a target, just as it had done to Allegra, and history had almost repeated itself today.
Summer let me strip her down and guide her to the shower. I turned on the hot water, testing the temperature before urging her inside.
She stared up at me with those big doe eyes, fear still swirling in their blue depths. “Don’t leave me.”
Dropping my forehead to hers, I whispered, “I’m not going anywhere. Promise.”
I stepped back and began shedding my clothes. A sharp gasp rang out when my chest came into view.
“Oh my God. You were sh-shot?” Summer’s panicked voice wavered.
“I’ll be fine,” I reassured her, my hand on her back forcing her beneath the hot spray.
The water ran red as it swirled down the drain, and Summer’s eyes remained fixed on it.
Even though I hated that she was focused on the reminder of the day’s fatal nature, I took advantage of her distracted state, working shampoo through her hair and removing all visible traces of the violence she had witnessed.
Her fingers ghosted over the skin of my left pec. “You’re still bleeding.”
“Doc’s on his way. He’ll get me all patched up after he checks you over.”
Wide blue eyes lifted, full of terror. “N-no. Please, no. I can’t.”
My hands cupped her face. “It’s going to be fine.”
“No!” she screamed forcefully enough that I stumbled back in shock. “I have to get out of here.” She reached for the glass door, threw it open, and rushed out of the shower.
“Summer, wait!” I chased after her, cursing under my breath, when my wet feet slid on the marble flooring.
I found her, still naked and dripping wet, backed into a corner of the bedroom, eyes darting around like she was expecting a hidden enemy to jump out and attack at any moment.
The timing couldn’t have been worse for the knock that sounded at the door. It sent my wife into a hysterical fit, her high-pitched cries echoing off every surface.
“Mr. Bellini? Is everything okay?” A concerned voice coming through the wood was barely audible over the ringing in my ears.
“No! Please, no!” Summer shouted on repeat.
I didn’t give a fuck that both of us were naked; she needed more help than I could give her, and she needed it immediately.
Desperate and at my wits’ end, I threw open the door, commanding, “Do whatever it takes.”
Dr. Corsi had been in my family’s employ for decades, had seen all manner of illness and injury over the years, but still, he hesitated when he laid eyes upon the scene of my beautifully broken wife falling to pieces.
Snapping out of it quickly, he reached into his black medical bag and pulled out a syringe. “I’m going to sedate her, but I’ll need help in restraining her to administer it.”
“Of course. Whatever you need.”
Even though it killed me, as Summer fought against my hold like her life depended on it, I banded my arms around her tighter, keeping her still enough that the doctor could thread the needle into the vein on the inside of her elbow.
She continued to thrash, but eventually, her screams tapered off to whimpers, growing weaker by the minute. Then, for the second time in less than an hour, she became unconscious in my arms.
Placing her gently atop the bed, I made sure to cover her exposed body with a blanket before stepping back to run a hand down my face.
“Now that she’s resting comfortably, would you like me to stitch up that bullet wound?” the doctor asked from beside me.
“No. She comes first.”
“Very well.” He grabbed a stethoscope out of his bag. “What is the extent of her physical injuries?” It remained unspoken that the mental distress sustained from the trauma she experienced wouldn’t be so easily treated.
Never taking my eyes off Summer, I pulled on a pair of boxer briefs. “Bruising around her throat from an attempted strangulation. Not sure what else, but from what I saw, she put up a hell of a fight.”
Palpating around the purple marks, he mused, “Clearly, her vocal cords haven’t been affected.
” He tugged on an ear. “But there is still a risk that swelling could be delayed. You’ll need to keep an eye on her tonight, and if her breathing becomes labored at any point, take her straight to the nearest emergency room. ”
My fists clenched by my sides as he peeled the blanket away to do a more comprehensive examination. It made me damn near murderous that someone other than me was seeing or touching my naked wife, but in this instance, it was necessary, so I forced myself to rein it in.
“There’s some light bruising on her ribs.
Not enough to suggest any are broken, but I’ll leave behind some painkillers if she complains of any discomfort.
The back of her head is sporting a nasty bump.
It’s hard to tell if she hit it hard enough to sustain a concussion until she wakes, but I can come back tomorrow to assess her cognitive function.
Other than that, just a few minor abrasions on her hands and knees, what you’d typically see in a case of road rash. ”
“How long will she be asleep?” I asked, brushing the damp strands of blonde hair away from her face.
“She’ll likely be out most of the night.”
Good. She needed the reset.
“Now, can I treat that hole through your shoulder?”
I grunted. “Very well.”
Once I was seated with my back against the headboard, Dr. Corsi prodded at the torn skin around the opening, and I hissed.
“Let me get some lidocaine,” he offered.
“No,” I declined.
“Sir—“
“I said no.” This time, my voice took on a steel edge.
The doctor’s eyes lifted to the ceiling, probably thinking I was a stubborn asshole for refusing the anesthetic, but he didn’t bother to argue further.
I wanted this to hurt. Though I had a feeling the pain of having a needle and thread shoved through my skin repeatedly wouldn’t come close to making up for the suffering my wife had gone through today.
I wasn’t sure anything ever would.