Chapter 12
KARINA
My husband hasn’t opened his eyes for more than five minutes in two days.
I blink back tears as I squeeze his hand, watching him take shallow breaths as he lies unconscious in the hospital bed.
I’ve barely left his side since he was moved here from the ER.
His head is bandaged, both eyes black and blue.
He’s got two IV lines in his one arm and a blood pressure cuff on the other.
Monitors beep steadily beside him. The room is comfortably dim.
When I saw Marco’s car wreck at the racetrack, I thought I was watching him die.
Now that he’s hooked up to all these machines, unresponsive and broken, I still think he might die.
The crash left him with a severe concussion, a broken clavicle, four broken ribs, severe lower limb bruising, a neck sprain, and a dislocated shoulder.
The orthopedist took care of the clavicle and the shoulder, but Marco’s brain needs time to heal.
Nobody can say how long it will take. I keep hearing about how lucky he is, but this doesn’t feel like luck to me.
The doctors also said it may be a while before Marco is fully aware of his surroundings.
We have to keep the lights down, and noise to a minimum to help him rest. We can’t risk overstimulating him.
Which is why the rest of the Bellantis and I have been taking turns sitting quietly by Marco’s bedside, one at a time.
When my shift is up and I know it’s Dante or Armani’s turn to come in, I don’t want to give up my spot. I don’t want to share my husband with anyone. And I can’t shake my guilt.
I’m afraid I might be the reason he’s in the hospital right now.
I don’t have any proof, but I’d bet anything that my Bruno family is responsible for what happened.
This whole thing screams Uncle Sergio, and Pietro’s stink is all over it too.
I haven’t said anything to Dante or Armani—admittedly, it could just be my nerves putting my mind into overdrive—but this wouldn’t be the first instance of someone trying to tamper with Marco’s race car.
I just don’t understand how this happened.
The crew checked the car. Everything was fine.
Marco was driving like a dream. It was supposed to be fine.
Tears spill down my cheeks. Leaning my elbows on my thighs, I put my head in my hands and try to breathe through my emotions.
I’m so tired, but I can’t sleep. The most I’ve done is doze off for a few minutes at a time in the waiting room.
I’m afraid something bad will happen to Marco if I go to sleep or leave the hospital, so I’ve just been camping out here.
Frankie keeps telling me I need to go home and take a shower and eat a proper meal, and I will, but… not yet.
Every time I close my eyes, I see flashes of the accident all over again.
Seeing Marco’s car roll four times and slam into the side wall was the most terrifying experience of my life.
It was like a scene from a movie, how it happened in slow motion, each second completely clear and completely horrifying.
What was it like for Marco inside the car?
My gut clenches as I imagine him trapped by the restraints as the car spun out of control, flipped, and slammed into the sidewall before bursting into flames.
Thank God they got him out of the car in time. If not for the quick action of the emergency crew, he would have burned to death. Or probably asphyxiated first. Jesus.
“Karina.”
Someone lightly touches my shoulder and I jump. I look up and find a concerned Dante staring at me.
“You should take a break,” he says gently. “Go get something to eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
He sighs. “You’ve been saying that for two days now. You have to keep your strength up. For Marco. I know Frankie’s been getting on you about it, too, but…we care about you.”
Running my hands over my face, I straighten in the chair and look at the ceiling. “So both of you are guilt tripping me now?”
He grins, but there isn’t much humor in it. “Is it working?”
“No. But you’re right. I should eat something. The caffeine isn’t working anymore.”
He takes my arm and helps me up. I’m unsteady on my feet and he supports me until I find my balance.
“Seriously, Karina. You can’t keep going like this. Food and a nap. If you don’t listen to me, I’ll have the doctor give you a sedative so you can sleep.”
The look he’s giving me says he isn’t kidding.
“Okay.”
“I’ll sit with him until you get back, okay?” he says. “Go. Please.”
Somehow, I find the strength to go back out to the private waiting area that Dante arranged for the Bellantis.
There’s a small fridge for beverages and a cabinet loaded with snacks, including some instant chicken noodle soup and crackers.
I manage to get a mug of it down, and then force myself to eat half a banana to get my blood sugar up.
The fluorescent lighting is giving me a migraine.
It seems so bright after spending so much time in Marco’s dim room.
Laying my head on the table, I close my eyes for a few moments. Now that my stomach has something in it other than vending machine coffee, my brain is a bit more willing to rest.
“Karina.” Dante’s urgent voice cuts through my dozing.
“What is it? Is he—” I’m already out of my chair.
“His blood pressure’s up and the doctor ordered an emergency scan to make sure everything is good with his brain. They’re being extra cautious since this is his second severe concussion in such a short time. You know, from when Jessica…when we lost Jessica.”
The soup threatens to come back up. It takes a second to fully process what he’s said.
“I thought you’d want to be with him before he goes into the scanner,” Dante adds.
I don’t say anything as I dart past him and race back to Marco’s room. A technician is moving him onto a gurney when I enter. She smiles at me as I take Marco’s hand.
“I’m here, love. And I’ll be right here when you get back.” I kiss the back of his hand and squeeze it tightly. “You got this. Just hang on.”
I follow as a nurse wheels Marco down the hall and then wait outside the room while they perform his scan.
Crossing my arms tightly over my middle, I can hardly stand still while I wait.
My mind strays to the worst-case scenario.
What if his brain swells and he has a seizure or something? I can’t lose him.
He’s not just my husband—he’s the only thing I have in this whole world. Fresh tears spill down my face and I don’t even try to stop them. Marco is my whole world.
The door opens a little while later and the technician rolls Marco back into the hall. He’s so still, so quiet, his eyes closed, his face drawn. I know they’re giving him pain meds, but I wonder if he’s uncomfortable. The thought makes my anxiety a hundred times worse.
Dante is waiting when we return to the room.
“Can you sit with him? I’m going to get the nurse. I think he’s in pain,” I fret.
He pats me on the shoulder. “I’ll go to the nurses’ station. You can stay.”
Once Marco is gently moved back into bed, I resume my place by his side but find that I can’t just sit and do nothing while I wait for the test results to come back. It’s starting to feel stuffy and claustrophobic inside the room.
After pacing for a while, I give him a kiss on the forehead and stand in the hallway so I can take a breath. I can see the family waiting room at the end of the hall. The door is open, the room empty. Armani must have gone with Dante. I wonder when they’ll be back with a nurse.
I’m just about to go back inside Marco’s room when I see someone approaching from down the hall. He’s big, broad, dark-haired, and intimidating. Is it one of my uncle’s men?
My pulse skyrockets, but I’m frozen in place. He nods as he comes up to me.
“Mrs. Bellanti,” he says, as if we’re old friends catching up.
“I don’t know you,” I say bluntly, scanning the hallway for help. But there’s no one.
He leans against the wall beside me and smiles in a way that turns my stomach. “It was a tragic accident, what happened to your husband. Most unfortunate.”
“I have to go,” I say, starting to back away. The guy isn’t outwardly threatening, per se, but something about him is setting off alarms in my head.
His eyes burn into mine. “You know…this is the kind of situation, for a wife, where she might have the urge to confess something.” He drops his voice just low enough for me to hear. “But I’m strongly encouraging you not to do so. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
I just shake my head, terror making my blood run cold, because I don’t know how to respond. Did my uncle send him here to harass me?
At the sound of footsteps approaching, I whirl to see Dante strolling up, leveling the strange man with a stare. Shit. How much did Dante just overhear?
“I won’t ask you to leave, because you’re already on your way out,” Dante says coolly, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. “Unless you need directions.”
The men square off, tension in the air, neither of them budging.
But I know Dante won’t hesitate to throw a punch if he needs to.
I can tell he’s ready to fight by the way his shoulders are set, his spine gone rigid.
Maybe he heard what the man said to me, and maybe he didn’t—but either way, he’s picked up on the fact that I’m being harassed. And he doesn’t like it one bit.
He moves closer toward the man, hand moving under his jacket where his gun is holstered, and the message is clear. It’s comforting to feel the power and protection of the Bellantis like this, but I wish it wasn’t happening under such awful circumstances.
The strange man shrugs, smiles, and walks away. I watch him go, my adrenaline finally starting to dissipate. I hope Dante doesn’t start asking me questions about what the man said.
“Are you okay?” Dante says gently.
“I’m fine. Thank you for that.”
“I can’t believe that scumbag was hitting on you in the middle of the TBI ward. Unbelievable.” He glances at the man’s retreating back with a deep frown. “The nurse is coming to check on Marco next. She said they can give him another dose of the pain meds.”
I nod, relieved that Dante isn’t more suspicious about the strange man. “Good.”
He hesitates for a moment and then says, “He’s going to be okay. I promise.”
“You can’t promise that. No one can.”
Something flickers across his face as if he agrees with me but can’t bring himself to admit it. “Listen, Karina. I’ve been meaning to ask you—”
“I should get back to Marco,” I interrupt, afraid to listen to what he has to say.
Twisting my wedding ring, I turn to go, and then one of Marco’s doctors comes toward us with a clipboard in her hand, saving me the trouble of having to bolt in a panic.
“Doctor,” Dante says. “The scan results are back?”
She nods and tells us that there have been no changes. Nothing new to explain the spikes in his blood pressure. We just need to give him more time, more rest.
Armani arrives just in time to hear the good news, and then the brothers leave me alone with Marco again.
I feel like I’m going in circles as I sink back down into the chair next to his bed, in the dim, overly quiet room with only the monitors beeping to keep me company.
Leaning over Marco’s bed, I take his limp hand in mine and rest it against my cheek.
“Come back to me,” I whisper to him. “Torna da me.”
I can only pray that he will.