Chapter Twenty-Three #2
I was bleeding through my socks.
“Fuck,” Venezio snapped, reaching for me and scooping me up off my feet in one swift motion, making my belly swoop.
Just then, there was another beep, and then two more men rushed inside the building.
Like Venezio and Salvatore, they were handsome. Unlike Venezio, who was in sweats, and Salvatore, who was in pajamas, these men were in suits. The look made them practically ooze ‘mafia.’
“Venezio,” the man in front with the darker hair said.
“Boss,” Venezio replied. “Just let me get her in an exam room,” he added.
“She okay?” the boss asked, his concerned gaze moving over me.
“For someone who almost died half a dozen times in the past day, yeah. But Sal needs to take care of her feet.”
At that, the boss looked at said feet. Seeing the blood, a muscle ticked in his jaw.
“Should I call in Brio?” he asked, looking at Venezio.
I had no idea what that meant, but Venezio gave his boss a tight nod before he fell behind Salvatore as they led me to an exam room.
“I’m so fucking sorry,” Venezio said, brushing some of my wet hair out of my face. “And don’t you dare say it’s not my fault. We both know it is.”
“It’s okay,” I told him.
“Alright. I got some towels and dry clothes,” Salvatore said, stacking them up on the counter. “Why don’t you two get changed, then I can get to work on her feet? Sweetheart, don’t take the socks off. Let me do that.”
With that, he moved into the hallway.
Venezio made quick work of stripping, drying, and putting on the new set of sweats, this one all in black.
Then he turned to me.
“I think I should cut the pants off so the cuffs don’t pull on the socks.”
“Okay,” I agreed, trusting him.
I watched as he located scissors, then got to work carefully cutting me out of my pants and then my shirt before helping me into fresh ones, mine in gray.
He carefully dried my hair, then dried off the table before helping me up onto it.
“Better?” he asked.
“What happens now? How is he going to work on my feet? They hurt…”
Pain sliced across his eyes at that.
“Salvatore will give you a local. You won’t feel shit but the quick prick of the needle.”
“Okay. Good. Not to sound like a baby…”
“A baby? Babe, your slippers are full of blood. I know how bad they were before all this shit tonight. I think we both know you’re not being a baby.
The only reason you were still even on your feet was the adrenaline.
So don’t worry about being a baby. Take whatever the fuck Sal has to give you for the pain. ”
“Decent?” Salvatore asked from the other side of the door.
“Yeah, we’re good.”
“If you don’t mind, sweetheart,” he said, moving into the room with a plastic container in his hands, “some people out there have questions for Venezio.”
“I’ll stay if you want,” he offered.
“I’m okay. But you need to get looked at too.”
“Those baby bruises?” Salvatore said, waving a hand. “He’s fine.”
“Thanks, man,” Venezio said, getting a smile out of the other man. “You’re in good hands, babe. Don’t be a hero.”
As he left, the last of the adrenaline seemed to leach from my body. Then the pain intensified.
“I’m not going to lie to you, sweetheart, I got a feeling your feet are going to be really ugly.”
“I have a feeling you’re right. I had blisters covering like half of my feet before the running tonight.”
To that, he nodded.
“Believe me, it won’t be nearly the worst I’ve seen. But I’m gonna tell you to go ahead and lay back and stare at the ceiling because you might not wanna see it.”
“That I can do,” I agreed, shifting onto the exam chair and leaning back.
“I’m gonna give you a local. You won’t feel anything. I’m gonna numb them both at once just so you don’t feel the pain anymore.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
“Had a night, huh?” he asked, cutting the tops of the socks away before moving casually around, putting on gloves, then rolling up my pant leg to press the needle into my skin.
“You could say that.”
“Just three quick pricks per foot.” He made quick work of that before discarding the needle. “Some relief incoming,” he promised. “How long were you out in the cold and wet like that?” he asked.
“I’m not sure. We kind of lost all track of time. But it wasn’t like yesterday.”
“Yesterday?”
“I was out in Central Park in a gown and… nothing else.”
“During the snow?”
“Yeah. I think I was close to unconsciousness when Venezio grabbed me and got me warm.”
Salvatore made a clicking sound. “Open up,” he demanded, then pressed a thermometer under my tongue. “No talking until that beeps,” he commanded as he brought over a rolling tray and seat and moved in at my feet.
He poked at my feet but I felt nothing.
With that, he peeled off my socks and got to work.
“What’s that saying?” he asked when the thermometer beeped.
“Ninety-seven point eight.”
“Alright. Good. Nothing to worry about there. But I want you to stay warm for the next few days, okay? Your body has been through a lot.”
“Am I going to be able to walk?” I asked, thinking of the charity, of all the work that still needed to be done.
Salvatore moved his head side to side. “I don’t want you to be walking. As much as possible, you need to be on your ass. But I get that you’re going to need to get to the bathroom and such. So I might be able to create a makeshift cushion situation at the edges of this.”
He glanced up at me, a ghost of a smirk on his lips.
“Know when a woman has her gears turning when I see it. I know Christmas is a few days away. You got shit to buy, to wrap, to bake. And I’m telling you that you gotta let someone else make Christmas this year if you have any hopes of avoiding a serious infection here. ”
“I don’t have anyone else to make Christmas,” I said, my belly twisting.
“What are you talking about? You’ve got Venezio.”
My heart swooped at that. And I didn’t realize until that moment how much I wanted that to be true. That he wouldn’t just disappear once this was all over.
“Sweetheart,” Salvatore said, waiting until I glanced down at him. “You have Venezio.”
He said it with so much certainty that I started to believe him.
“Maybe I can rent a wheelchair or scooter to stay off my feet,” I said.
“That’s a woman for you.”
“What?” I asked, brows scrunched.
“Listen, I tell a man he needs to stay off his feet, he plants himself on his ass and lets himself be taken care of. I tell a woman to stay off her feet and she finds a way to still do all the things while not being on her feet.”
“That’s not inaccurate,” I agreed, giving him a little smile. “How bad is it?”
“About as bad as I was expecting. The skin is still attached, sort of. And it’s really important you don’t try to remove that.
If it comes off, it comes off. But don’t help it along.
It works as a sort of natural bandage for now.
That’s good. I am going to be checking on these feet every few days, though. ”
“I could go to my doctor if—”
“I will be checking on your feet every few days,” he cut me off with a warm look in his eyes. “And Venezio will be in charge of changing the bandages once or twice a day.”
“I don’t know if Venezio will—”
“Don’t know if I will do what?” Venezio asked, coming back into the room.
His face looked a little cleaned up, but the bruises were getting worse as time settled them in.
“This pretty girl here isn’t sure you’re up for the job of changing her bandages.”
“That’s not what—”
“And she’s also worried she won’t be able to stay off her feet with all the things she has to do for Christmas.”
“I got no problem changing the bandages,” Venezio said, walking toward my feet to check out the damage. His face gave nothing away.
“And Christmas?” Salvatore prompted. “She seems to think she will just get herself a scooter and continue to do it all herself.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I have things to do.”
“Like lay your ass in bed and recover, yeah,” Venezio said, sighing.
“If it makes you feel better,” Salvatore said, “Venezio is an awful patient too.”
“How often am I changing bandages?” Venezio asked, neither agreeing with nor denying the allegations.
“Probably twice a day at first. I’ll write down a whole list, step by step. And give you all the supplies.”
“Pain meds included?”
“I don’t need—”
“Of course.”
“Is this a thing with you guys?” I asked, looking between them. At their blank looks, I added, “Talking over someone like they haven’t said anything?”
“Only when what they’re saying is stupid,” Venezio supplied, making a surprised laugh escape me.
“Fine. I’ll take the pain meds.”
“Good girl,” Salvatore said. “I’m just wrapping up. You wanna make sure you got a way to get her home?”
“Yeah. I’ll be right back, babe.” He gave my wrist a squeeze. “Then we’ll go home.”
We.
My heart squeezed.
And this time, I went ahead and let the hope swell.
Maybe I did have someone after all.