Chapter 73 Bloodline
Chapter seventy-three
Bloodline
Marco
When I regain consciousness, I’m being wheeled into the trauma bay.
I’m attached to breathing equipment, and the oxygen whooshes in my ears much like the adrenaline earlier tonight.
It’s loud and chaotic. Bright, almost blinding lights.
The high-pitched wail of sirens. The beeping and bleating of monitors.
The indistinct shouts of people. So much noise.
Medical staff surround me, calling out my vitals at the same alarming speed that I’m being pushed down a long hallway.
I can’t catch everything they’re saying, just bits and pieces.
“Male. Twenty-nine.”
“Gunshot wound to the back.”
“Left side.”
“Wound has been packed, but he’s lost a lot of blood.”
“Needs surgery.”
“We need to stabilize him first.”
“Has anyone notified his family?”
“They’re on their way.”
I try to talk, but it’s just a jumble of garbled sounds behind the oxygen mask.
Where’s Sophia? Is she okay? Then I feel it.
The familiar stroke of her soft, delicate fingers as they lace through mine.
Relief mixes with all the other sensations assaulting me.
She squeezes my hand, her voice breaking over the cacophony of chaos.
“I’m here baby; I’m here.” I try to focus on where the voice is coming from, to turn my head in the same direction, but everything still feels so heavy.
Then she comes into view, the same angel who was with me before everything went black.
She lowers her face directly in my line of sight so she’s all I see as we move through the busy hospital.
She’s crying, the black of her makeup keeping track of just how many tears have fallen, clearing the path for the ones still coming.
She’s still the most gorgeous thing I’ve even laid eyes on.
A glint of metal catches the light, bathing her in a golden glow. I realize it’s my necklace.
“We need to operate to remove the bullet.”
“He needs a blood transfusion. Anyone know his blood type?”
Noise and time are starting to fade in and out again. I just want to close my eyes
“Mother said AB negative. But she’s not a match.”
“Rare. We’re going to need more units.”
“Any family or friends here we can test for a blood type match? There’s no time to wait. We need blood now.”
“Yes, me.”
There’s some more talk, but I am trying to work out who that other feminine voice belongs to. It’s strained with emotion, but still, the lilt of the accent feels familiar.
“Name?”
“Chiara Gigioliotti.”
More questions, and low hum of her answers.
Sophia’s still got a hold of my hand, squeezing and stroking, helping to keep me here.
I fight hard to stay conscious so I can hear Chiara’s answers to the doctor’s rapid-fire questions.
Some words are garbled, but I don’t miss the last ones, which hit like another bullet.
“Test me. I’m his first cousin on his biological father’s side.”
Then the darkness takes me again.