Chapter 37 Bruno
brUNO
What fresh hell is this?
Hot pain radiates across my chest and throbs in time to the sluggish beat of my heart.
It feels like someone is sitting on my chest while digging their knuckles into my ribs as if trying to find some sort of secret buried there.
I groan softly and shift to try and ease away from the sensation but it follows my movements.
How irritating.
Opening my eyes, a warm glow radiates from the lamp beside me, bathing the entire room in soft, golden light. The blinds on the windows are pulled closed and beside me, several machines beep in time to the rhythm of my heart.
Where am I?
What the hell happened?
The last thing I remember was… was… Shit. It’s cloudy in my mind. I blink slowly and focus on more things in the room. A vase of flowers sits on the table at the end of my bed next to a jug of water. There’s a book resting next to it. To my left is… Saoirse!
She lounges with her head down and her nose buried in a book, seemingly unaware that I’m awake and for a few quiet seconds, I’ll take that.
She looks… good. Healthy. Alive. That’s the most important thing because the last time I saw her was—shit, the lighthouse. My father shot me. Twice. I went down like a fucking sack of bricks and then Saoirse was over me begging me to stay with her.
Did I succeed? Is that why I’m still here?
Saoirse suddenly glances up from her book and when our eyes meet, she does a double-take and immediately abandons the book and rises. “Bruno!”
“Saoirse…”
“You’re awake! I was worried you were never going to wake up.” She moves to the side of my bed and perches on the edge while running her eyes over me. “How do you feel?”
“Uhm…” My dry throat closes up around my words. “K–kind of like a potato skin with all the flesh scooped out.”
Saoirse scoffs softly and reaches for the water. Pouring me a small cup, she adds a straw and scoots closer up the bed then offers it to me.
I can’t take my eyes off her as she eases the straw past my lips and the first rush of cool water washes down my throat.
She looks… good. Dark circles shadow under her eyes, bruises are still healing and some wounds are still visible, but she looks much better.
Alive and healthy. Her attention stays mostly on the glass until I finish drinking, then she sets it aside and sits.
“Better?”
“A little.” My voice is much smoother now. “What… what happened?”
“Do you remember getting shot?”
I nod.
“Before that, I know you told me to wait, but I couldn’t.
I went to find Cian and I tried to get him out, but he was too weak.
By the time I got outside, Domenico was there with Sarah and he was so angry.
After you went down, I killed Domenico with Rocky’s gun.
Overkill, some would say, but he deserved every single bullet I put in him.
After you passed out, I thought you died…
Cormac turned up with a fucking helicopter and a small army.
I don’t remember much myself, though. I was taken to the hospital, and Cian was rescued from the stairwell and I had our baby. ”
Our baby.
She said that before, I think. Maybe I dreamed it. Wishful thinking. It’s a lot to unpack so I start on what sticks first. “Are you okay? And the baby?”
“I’m fine. He’s doing really well. He’s strong despite everything.”
He.
A boy. A baby boy.
I have a son?
Immediately, I’m hit with a sharp fear that I’m set on a path to repeat the sins of my father. What kind of dad can I be when I had that bastard as a role model?
“He’s okay?” I whisper as warmth stings at my eyes. “Really?”
“Yes. It was touch and go in the immediate beginning, but he pulled through quickly. He’s getting bigger day by day.”
“How long?”
“ A couple of weeks. It’s Halloween tomorrow.”
“Shit.”
“I know. Time flies.”
“And my dad is…”
“Dead,” Saoirse replies tightly. “Yes.”
“I…” A strange mix of emotions swirls in my chest. Sadness initially, but then anger. Anger that I couldn’t be there to see him suffer, or ensure he got what he deserved. “Wait, Mary!”
“She’s fine!” Saoirse rises slightly and shifts further up the bed. “She’s safe. She’s alive. Cormac’s people were able to rescue her thanks to Sarah, and she’s been staying with Rocky ever since.”
I slump back down, my heart racing. “Thank fuck.”
“It’s all okay. Everyone is okay.”
“Even Cian?”
Saoirse nods. “His recovery will be tricky and he’s pretty pissed off at the world, but he’s fine. They kept him heavily drugged so on top of healing and facing the pain of learning to walk again, he’s also in withdrawal.”
“Shit. I’m… It feels so worthless now, but I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
“I’m really fucking sorry.”
“Bruno.” Her hand lightly covers mine. “You can’t keep beating yourself up over this.
You need to heal. You had a lot of surgeries because one of the bullets tore your lung and you were struggling for a while.
And blaming yourself for all of this…” She takes a deep breath and straightens her shoulders.
“Look… you fucked up and we acknowledged that. It was pretty disastrous, but I can’t fully fault you for choosing family.
And then being caught with your sister’s life dangling in Domenico’s hands like that…
I would do anything for my brothers. I would.
So as angry as I am, I can’t blame you for doing what you could to protect her. ”
It’s becoming harder and harder to keep the tears at bay. “You don’t hate me?”
“I did at first. Back in that cell until you told me the truth. And then I hated how much I understood your actions because I would have done the same. It’s a coin flip, isn’t it, this life?
As strong as you think you are, all it takes is a blade to the throat of a loved one and then it’s all over.
You’re nothing but a puppet.” She lifts her other hand and rubs at her temple.
“Sometimes there’s no winning. But you also saved my life.
If I’d been sold and shipped overseas, then I’d be nothing right now. ”
“Is it over?”
“The human trafficking?”
I nod.
“Partly. Rocky’s been working to dismantle all of Domenico’s business with the Triads as well as killing a large number of them to try and get information on the third leader.
Someone in the Middle East or Europe. It’s difficult to pinpoint but I believe Anastasia, the Russian Godmother, is also helping.
She feels responsible, I believe, for not ensuring something like this could never reignite.
It turns out that Rocky went to Italy after his honeymoon and actually discussed growing distrust about Domenico with his father. ”
“Shit… Rocky was suspicious?”
Saoirse nods slowly. “Cormac and Rocky have a… complicated friendship and Cormac kept reaching out to Rocky to try and fix things. Eventually, they had drinks at the Black Ox, and Cormac’s defense of me was enough to ignite some suspicion in Rocky, nothing concrete, but enough that he wanted his father’s permission before he acted. ”
“And he needed it in person.”
“Exactly. He couldn’t risk their communications being hijacked. That’s why he left and why Domenico was left in charge for so long.”
“Shit.” I turn my eyes to the ceiling. “No wonder Sarah was telling me to tread carefully. She didn’t want me to fuck up what they were working on.”
“I guess.” Saoirse sighs deeply. “But it’s going to take a lot more than one drink and some dead Triads to repair the relations between the Irish and the Italians. There’s a lot of unsettled behavior.”
“I don’t blame anyone. We haven’t exactly been good allies, have we?”
“You can’t talk.” Saoirse smirks slightly. “You were in prison for years.”
“And look at the mess I caused when I got out.”
“It’s not all a mess.” Her thumb strokes over the top of my knuckles. “You have a baby now.”
“Do I?”
She frowns. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean, after everything, do you even want me around him?”
“Bruno…” Saoirse shakes her head. “How I feel is… complicated. I’m jumping at shadows.
I can’t lock the door because I’m scared it will never open.
I’m texting Cian constantly because I’m worried he’ll vanish.
But… These past few days when I’ve come in here to sit with you hoping you would wake up, all I could think was that we never got a chance.
Not a real chance. We were sneaking about and struggling against shit we didn’t even know was there until it was too late.
And the baby… I ignored it for so long and then was so angry that I didn’t tell you.
Maybe if I did, things would have been different. ”
She pauses and her nose wrinkles slightly.
“My point is… we never had a chance to be us. We hurt each other badly. We’ve fought and injured and cursed each other out. But we’re still here and we still have a baby together. And I still… like you.”
“Liar,” I murmur with a soft smile as her words paint a better future than I ever could have hoped for. “You love me.”
Saoirse’s eyes snap to mine as pink warms her cheeks. “You… you heard that, huh?”
“Yup.”
“Maybe I was just saying that because you said it first.”
“I was dying. I have an excuse.”
Her eyes narrow. “So you didn’t mean it?”
“No,” I say as I turn my hand to take her hand in mine. “I definitely meant it. I just never dared to hope that you have any good feelings left for me.”
“I do.” She threads her fingers through mine. “I’m not saying it will be easy. Maybe it won’t work. Maybe there’s too much bad blood, but… I’m open to trying.”
“Me too.”
Her smile widens and her next sigh is one of satisfaction. “Good.”
It takes a few more days before the doctor permits me to visit my baby.
There are some rumbling concerns about my strength, but there’s no motivation quite like the primal urge to meet your baby.
So, by the end of the week, I’m able to pull myself into a wheelchair and Saoirse brings me to see our baby boy.
He’s scarily small. Seeing him in an incubator is pretty terrifying with how tiny he is and for a long while, I’m too scared to bring myself any closer.
“Come on,” Saoirse says with a smile, motioning me with her hand as she sits by his side. “Come and say hi.”
“I don’t want to hurt him.”
“I know. I was scared too. But I promise you that you won’t.”
Hard to believe when my very presence seems to be the catalyst for disaster, but I choose to put my trust in her. Wheeling closer, I bring myself as close as I dare and study every inch of his tiny body.
He’s real.
A real person.
My baby.
My son.
“Wow,” I breathe out slowly. “He’s perfect.”
“Isn’t he?” Saoirse glances at me. “He’s a fighter just like his father.”
“How… how long does he have to be in this?”
“I think another month or so, depending on how he develops. He’s been amazing so far, but he was born three months too early, so…” Her voice cracks slightly and I reach for her hand, squeezing lightly.
“You did an amazing job for him. Keeping him safe, protecting him.”
She rolls her eyes as they sparkle with tears. “I was so terrified that I ruined him or didn’t protect him. A doctor told me that having a cryptic pregnancy was the luckiest thing because it also protected him. A terrible, alarming situation, and look at him. He’s just… living.”
“I love him already.” It’s alarming how certain I am in that feeling. This heavy, warm sensation in my chest just blooms hotter with each second I spend by his side and when I look in Saoirse’s eyes, I know she feels the same.”
“We have to name him.” She glances at me. “I’ve been calling him Clover since he was born because y’know, Irish luck. But he needs a real name.”
She waited for me to pick a name? I’m surprised but very grateful. “Do you have any ideas?”
Nodding, Saoirse sniffles slightly. “I want to name him Liam. It’s a good, strong name. Irish. And I wanted to include my brother, Brenden. So Liam Brenden Del Prete?”
“Gifford,” I correct quickly.
Our eyes meet. “But he needs something of you.”
“He has everything he needs from me. And my name holds nothing but pain. He doesn’t deserve that.”
“Bruno, it’s also your name.”
“I know. Unless you agree to marry me in six months.” I chuckle. “But I’m serious. He needs strong names. Gifford is as strong as it gets.”
“Are you sure?” The disbelief is clear on her face, so I lightly squeeze her hand.
“So sure. He’s a survivor, strong and resilient like his mother. He’s a Gifford through and through.”