Chapter 7
Chapter
Seven
Luna
I startle, bringing my arm to my head, but something restricts my movement. Snapping my eyes open, I panic when I find myself in an unfamiliar bed, hooked up to an IV.
“Hey there, Luna. It’s alright. I’m Nicky, nurse practitioner for the family.” A beautiful woman dressed in scrubs appears beside me.
“Where am I?” I ask, trying to sit up.
She adjusts pillows behind my back, propping me up. “Vince’s house. You gave him a bit of a scare when you passed out.”
“Passed out?” The last thing I remember was Vince being a dickhead and me puking. And puking. And puking some more. And then some more.
Nicky nods. “You had a pretty severe case of dehydration; I gave you an IV of fluids. How are you feeling?”
“Better, but I still feel like crap,” I say with a scratchy voice .
“I’m not going to lecture you on the dangers of binge drinking; I’m guessing your mother of all hangovers is a lesson in and of itself,” Nicky tells me.
I groan in agreement.
“But next time, if there is a next time, a good rule of thumb is one alcoholic beverage per hour, one glass of water between each alcoholic beverage.”
“I don’t even want to think about it.” I shudder.
“I’m not defending your behavior, but I still chewed Vince a new one for refusing to give you water,” she informs me.
“Really? I would’ve liked to have been awake for that,” I say with a little laugh, but immediately regret it, bringing my hand to my tender head. “Oww.”
“Come on, let’s get up and walk to the bathroom.”
I close my eyes. “I’m not going anywhere unless it’s the morgue.”
“Luna, I need a urine sample from you,” she says firmly.
I snap my eyes open to find her holding a cup. “Oh my God, is Vince making me take a pregnancy test?”
Nicky shakes her head. “I need to track your urine output. But do you need a pregnancy test?” she asks gently.
“No, I’m on the pill to help with period cramps. Besides, I’ve never had actual sex.”
“What is ‘actual’ sex?”
“Like PIV.”
Nicky looks confused. “Sorry, I need a translation.”
“Penis in vagina sex,” I whisper. “Can I tell you something between us since you’re a doctor?”
“I’m not a…” She pauses. “Yes, go ahead.”
Looking around to make sure Vince isn’t lurking in the corner, I admit, “I hooked up with a guy, and I’m really confused why oral is so hyped.”
She pats my arm. “One day, when you’re with the right guy, you’ll understand the hype. Come on.” She helps me up and guides me to the bathroom, toting the IV on wheels along with us.
Peeing in a cup is trickier than it looks, but I’m just thankful urine comes out this time; I guess that whole not being able to pee thing should have been a red flag.
I place the cup on the sink and wash my hands. Nicky knocks and enters, examining the specimen and doing some kind of calculation on a notepad. “Your urine output is good,” she tells me.
“Thanks, I guess?”
Nicky smiles as she guides me back to bed, and I gladly lay down; walking that short of a distance was freaking exhausting. Grabbing a glass from the nightstand, she holds it up for me. “Drink.”
I do as I’m told, and she sits the glass on the nightstand. “I’m going to remove your IV, but only if you promise to hydrate and rest,” she warns, putting on gloves.
“I promise. Wait, what about my chess tournament?” I ask in a panic.
Nicky shakes her head. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“Vince won’t be happy,” I warn her.
“Vince can take it up with me,” she says, matter-of-factly. There’s a slight sting as she removes the IV, placing a cotton ball on the crook of my arm before she sticks a bandage to my skin. If she notices the scars on my wrist, she doesn’t comment. “I’m going to take your blood pressure.” She wraps a cuff around my arm and pumps until my arm’s being strangled. “It was low earlier; this an improvement,” she announces when she stops pumping the little ball thingie and the pressure subsides.
My eyes land on this woman’s ginormous diamond ring. A strange feeling gnaws at my chest, but I can’t put my finger on what it is. “Are you Vince’s wife?” He’s never mentioned a wife, but then again, we don’t exactly discuss things other than chess and mob loan percentage points .
She shakes her head, unwrapping my arm. “I’m engaged to Romeo.”
“The boss,” I say on a shaky breath, having heard his feared name whispered.
She winks at me. “Get some rest, and I’ll be back later to check on you.”
Vince
“Knock knock.” Nicky sticks her head in my home office.
“How is she?” I ask.
“Luna’s asleep. Her vitals are good. Other than needing rest and electrolytes, she’ll be fine. But you’re not taking her to play chess this weekend.” Nicky points her finger at me.
“You think I’m an asshole,” I say, rubbing the back of my head.
“Were you being an asshole?” She leans against the door jam with her arms crossed.
“Yes, but it was for her own good. Luna’s old man was an alcoholic. I don’t want her going down that same path.” A path that leads to a construction pit and a corpse, put there by me.
“Not appreciating your limits with alcohol is a rite of passage—one she checked off before she ‘legally’ should have, but we’re all rule-breakers around here, aren’t we?” Nicky points out. “Yes, there can be a genetic component to alcoholism, but unless this is a pattern of behavior affecting her school and chess, I wouldn’t jump to that conclusion.”
“She’s finished at that school; I’m pulling her,” I announce, having made up my mind .
Nicky arches an eyebrow. “Have you talked to Luna about this?”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” I say dismissively.
She shakes her head with a disapproving look. “You sound just like Romeo.”
“Sorry to interrupt,” Enzo says, appearing beside Nicky. “Boss needs you back at the house.”
“Why? Is there a problem?” Nicky asks, her voice laced with concern.
“Boss says, ‘Nicky’s been gone long enough. Bring her home.’” Enzo reads the message on his phone.
She snorts. “Now that sounds just like Romeo. Vince, let Luna rest for a few hours, then encourage her to drink something. If she’s hungry, go for bland food like a banana, crackers, or toast. If she’s not hungry, that’s fine too. Liquids are the most important thing for her right now.”
“Thanks, Nicky. Tell the boss I said hello.”
“Will do,” she says.
“Enzo,” I say.
“Vince.” He nods, and the two walk out.
Firing up my computer, I send an email to the dean, letting her know of Luna’s immediate withdrawal from school.
Is Luna going to be mad about this? Ab-so-fucking-lutely.
She can add it to her ever-growing list of reasons why she hates me.