Chapter 19 – Sage
S taten Island?
Why was Noah on Staten Island?
It’s been a little over a week since New Year’s. Elias and I spent two whole days together before he had to leave to take care of mafia business.
Nearly a whole week of him being gone most of the day, only to return at night when I’m tucked in bed. I’ve been bored as fuck.
I texted Noah this morning to see if she wanted to hang out today, but now it’s nearly nine at night, and she still hasn’t answered me back—which isn’t like her.
I pull up the tracking app to pinpoint her whereabouts.
It shows me everywhere she’s been today, and she was out on Staten Island for about half an hour .
Now her location is no longer showing up, and her phone is going straight to voicemail. Del and Elias aren’t picking up either.
I have a bad feeling.
I’ve attempted to grill Elias’s security men but either they know nothing, or they’ve been instructed not to say anything. I’m two seconds from fighting these fuckers and leaving to track down my bestie and my—wait, how do I label this relationship... mafia boyfriend?—when the penthouse doors open.
I’m coming in hot as I approach the front.
“Where the hell have you...”
My words trail off and my steps slow when I take in his appearance. He looks like he’s been hit by a truck.
“What happened?”
I reach up to take his head in my hands, and he closes his eyes before wrapping his fingers around my wrists. He says nothing as he lifts my hands away to kiss my palms, one after the other.
“Elias?”
“Let’s sit down.”
“What. Happened?” I repeat. Pressure builds behind my eyes, and my throat pinches with the threat of tears.
“Noah…”
I rip my wrists out of Elias’s grip and step back, shaking my head.
“No. NO! ”
“Sage.” Elias moves toward me, but I step back again. Hurt fills his eyes, but he’s quick to shake it off.
Staten Island.
Oh, God.
Was today the day they went through with their plan to take down the Lords?
“Tell me. Is she…”
I can’t even say the words as tears begin falling.
“She was hurt. She’s in a coma.”
I cover my mouth with my palm and turn away. I hate how much I cry around this man.
Except he’s never been turned off by the emotional mess that I am. Not like Chase was. Instead, Elias comes up behind me and wraps his arms around me.
I turn and bury my head in his soft chest.
“There was a shootout at the Lords Mansion, and Noah was taken by surprise by one of the members. He stabbed her. The doctor said she’ll make a full recovery, but they had to put her in a coma to help her injuries heal faster.”
“Did I do this?”
“What? Why would you think that?”
“I told Chase—”
“No. Sage, listen to me. There’s no way Chase would have known the details of our plan or the day we were going to confront Finn.”
I let out a relieved sob, and Elias squeezes me a little bit tighter. I don’t even care that I can barely breathe. I would let him suffocate me right now to silence the worry taking over my thoughts.
We stand there for a few minutes while this big, scary mobster soothes me. A part of me feels like I don’t deserve his gentle touches. The way he rubs his large hand up and down my spine. How he kisses the top of my head. How I feel safe in the hands of a man who uses them to end lives.
Out of all the women who walked through the doors of his club in Park Slope, he chose me. I mean, sure it was all about fucking at first, and yeah, he’s a little stalkerish.
But he’s my obsessive stalkerish mafia boss.
I pull out of his embrace... and immediately notice fresh blood on my arm.
“What the hell? Elias, are you hurt? Is this your blood?”
I start patting him down. He’s wearing all black, which makes it difficult to locate the wound.
“Sage, I’m fine.”
I ignore him and graze my fingertips up and down his chest and stomach then to his arms. He hisses when they skim over his right shoulder. I pull my hand away and find blood on the fingertips. Without saying a word, I take him by the wrist and drag him to the bathroom.
“Why didn’t you go to someone to get this taken care of?” I ask, sitting him down on the toilet seat.
“One of my medics got the bullets out. I wouldn’t let him stitch me up.”
“Why the fuck not? ”
“Because I needed them to treat my soldiers who had far worse injuries than me.”
He says it so casually like his life isn’t as important.
I know that’s a trauma response of always being in charge and having no one to take care of him, especially growing up. It hurts my heart that he’s never had the gentle touch of someone who cares about him.
At least, not since his mother died.
I don’t know his relationship history, but I’m going to guess that he hasn’t let anyone get close to him.
I have to wonder why I’m different.
The bandage that was slapped over the bullet hole in Elias’s shoulder is doing nothing to stop the blood. It’s soaked through the dark shirt he’s wearing.
“Elias, you need stitches.”
“I know.”
“Can’t you call that doctor who came over to help with your allergies that one time?”
“He’s a doctor who makes home visits to Johnny Goode, business owner, not Elias Carter, mafia boss.”
“Then what was your plan?”
“Stitch myself up. The wounds aren’t that bad. Mostly superficial.”
Shaking my head, I turn to the closet in his bathroom. A first aid kit sits on the middle shelf. It’s not your typical first aid kit. It’s bigger with a lot more supplies.
Because he gets injured all the time .
The thought both angers and saddens me. I remember seeing the scars on his other arm and shoulder and on the right side of his stomach. I counted five little circles total.
And that doesn’t include scars from stab wounds and the ones he’s yet to tell me about.
“I don’t know how to do it,” I say, my breath barely a whisper.
Surprisingly, the blood hasn’t grossed me out yet. I think my concern over Elias is masking that.
“I can show you.”
He sets supplies out on the counter including a suture kit with a packaged curved needle, the sutures, and scissors, some antiseptic and saline solution, soap, gauze, and bandages.
Picking up the needle first, he takes it out of the packaging and strings the thread through the eye. “It’s just like sewing. Do you know how to sew?”
“Not anymore. I did as a kid, though. I sewed patches on my Girl Scouts sash.”
“Perfect. It’s like riding a bike.”
“I fell off my bike all the time.”
“I just mean stitching up a wound is as simple as sewing on your patches.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s not and actually my patches fell off because I sucked at sewing.”
“Sage,” he sighs. “If you don’t want to do it, it’s fine.”
“Just… Tell me what to do. ”
He searches my eyes for a few seconds before pointing at the needle in my hand.
“Douse that with antiseptic first, then take the gauze and pour saline solution on it to clean the bullet hole.”
“Not alcohol?”
“A misconception. Alcohol can cause tissue damage.”
I swallow hard and nod. I won’t let my nerves show. He needs me to be strong. Besides, I should get used to him coming home injured—
Did I really have that thought?
I’m talking as if we’re married, and I’ve moved in.
Haven’t I, though? I haven’t stayed at my apartment since before Christmas.
“I can do it, Sage,” he says, his voice soft and understanding.
He holds out his hand for the needle, but I shake my head. “I’m fine.”
He cups my cheek. “It’s really not that bad.”
I playfully try to bite his fingers, getting a hearty chuckle from him, which lightens the heaviness resting on my shoulders.
“Blood is leaking out of you, and your arm is soaked.”
“Some of that blood is not mine.”
I hold back my gag and close my eyes, inhaling slowly before letting out a long stream of breath.
Then I get to work .
After washing my hands, I disinfect the needle and his arm as Elias instructed. Willing my hands to steady, I focus on the bullet hole. I sink the sharp tip into his skin. If it hurts, he doesn’t let it show. In fact, he’s on his phone, texting with one hand while I literally stitch him up.
I hate to admit that he was right about the ‘riding a bike’ remark.
I even found sewing human skin together easier than sewing Girl Scout patches onto a sash.
Or maybe I’m more motivated because if I fuck this up, I could nick a vein, and Elias could bleed out and die.
Or it could get infected, and he could die.
Okay, maybe I’m being dramatic. There aren’t any major blood vessels in shoulders. I don’t think. Whatever, I’ll Google it later.
By the time I’m done, I’m sweating, and my heart is beating a mile a minute. I use the scissors to cut the stitch and tie a little knot. I don’t even know if I was supposed to tie a knot but how else would the stitch not come undone?
Elias looks down at my work.
“Impressive.”
I roll my eyes and wash my hands in the sink. “Now what?”
“Use soap and water to clean the wound again, then cover it with the bandage.”
Since the hard part is over, I’m ready for him to start talking.
“Tell me what happened. ”
Surprisingly, he doesn’t hesitate and spills, telling me about showing up at the Lords Mansion on Staten Island and the plan to take down the crime organization. He went through every minute, including Noah killing Finn O’Connor and the shootout that injured him and Del, and Noah getting stabbed.
Fuck.
My best friend is in a coma.
I need to go see her.
“So what happens next?”
“Well, the Lords will be dissolved. I have my men out there now questioning any members who survived. We’ll offer immunity to those who provide insider information that will help absorb their organization.
They’ll be vetted, watched. We can’t trust them, but the more they cooperate, the better chance they’ll live. ”
I scrunch my nose at the thought of him and his men ending a human life. I may not agree with it, but I’m not entirely put off by it.
“And what about Noah’s father? Is he the one who ordered your mother’s death twenty years ago? I know you suspected it, but you needed evidence.”
“We’re still working on that part. Once Noah has recovered, she’s going to snoop in his Manhattan office.”
I pause putting on the bandage and frown.
“What happens if her father did it? What happens to the Empire? ”
“That’s something Noah and I will have to discuss. I’m under the impression she doesn’t want to follow in her father’s footsteps. If that’s the case, I will gladly take over both organizations. I’ve already cleaned up the QBM. I could do the same for the Empire.”
I smile and return my focus to his arm, gently putting the bandage over the cleaned wound.
“You’re a good man. You know that right?”
“I literally kill people.”
“People who deserve it like Chase and whoever he’s working with to kidnap humans to sell for sex.”
He grinds his teeth, his nostrils flaring. “I’m going to really enjoy torturing those fuckers.”
“Okay. All done,” I say, turning to clean up the mess on the counter.
“You’re a natural. Want to do that again?”
“No. Not really.” I snort while scooping up the empty medical packages to throw in the trash.
He stands and hobbles over to the counter where I placed the first aid kit.
Wait... he’s hobbling? Was he doing that earlier? Now that I think about it, he did say bullets, not bullet when talking about his injuries.
“Elias, what the hell is wrong with your leg?”
“Nothing.”
I narrow my eyes at his back. “Did you know when you lie to me, your voice goes up a pitch? ”
“It does not.”
“It does not,” I say, mocking him.
He slumps his shoulders and leans up against the bathroom counter. “I may have another bullet hole in my thigh. Allegedly.”
I cross my arms and raise a brow. He holds up his hands in surrender.
“Get the fuck on the counter,” I demand, and after giving me a mischievous smirk, he complies, like the good big boy he is.
He might pretend to hate when I boss him around, but I see the way his eyes light up anytime I bark an order at him.
He’s been in control for far too long. He doesn’t trust anyone with it.
Maybe I can be the one he falls to his knees for.
Maybe I can convince him to let me be in charge.
Maybe I can take away all the horrible things that have happened to him, even if it’s just for one night, and replace those memories with ones of love, care, and pleasure.
Love.
It’s crazy to think I could give my heart out so easily to another man. Especially since it’s still being repaired after Chase abused it. But for Elias, I would be willing to risk the chance of another heartbreak.