Chapter 13
Constance
“Melissa said they might let her go home this evening if her dizziness has resolved. She was having trouble getting from the bed to the bathroom yesterday and last night due to some lingering issues,” I tell Maximo after reading Melissa’s text.
We’ve just climbed into the back seat of the SUV while Joey and Trenton get comfortable up front.
“You hear that, Joey? Go ahead and take us over to the hospital,” Maximo says.
“If she’s still having symptoms like that, it might be best if they keep her another day,” Maximo remarks as he turns to me.
“She must have had one hell of a concussion. Poor woman. I hope you’re not blaming yourself for what she’s going through,” he adds after seeing whatever expression is on my face.
“I know rationally that all of this is on the Volkovs. I know it. They threw the first rock down the mountain that started this avalanche. But that doesn’t absolve me of guilt for how I’ve reacted, Maximo. If I hadn’t shown up at your house demanding revenge…”
“If you really want to go down that road, follow it all the way to the end,” Maximo interrupts me as he reaches over and takes my hand.
“If you hadn’t shown up at my house demanding revenge, you’d be back at the restaurant, overseeing the rebuild and trying to put the fragments of your life back together.
We wouldn’t have had a chance to be together. ”
“That’s the thought that keeps me going,” I admit as I give his hand a squeeze.
“I feel guilty because I don’t regret anything I’ve done.
I mean it, Maximo. I would do it all again, every bit of it.
I love you, and I’m glad I came to you. Not just because you allowed me to get revenge for my father, but because of who you are. ”
“Melissa doesn’t blame you, and I think she’s happy for you,” Maximo tries to reassure me. “I mean certainly she would rather not have gotten her face cracked…”
“Maximo!” I try to pull my hand away, but he tightens his grip. “That’s an awful way to phrase things,” I say as I glare at him.
“What I’m saying is that it could have been worse,” he clarifies with a smirk.
“Look at what you’ve endured. You and I have both been shot and have had multiple attempts on our lives.
I’ve lost family members in this war. You and I, though, have come through everything only a little bit worse for wear.
Melissa loves you, Constance. She’s your best friend.
She wanted to be by your side to help you through your grief.
She doesn’t blame you for being injured any more than I do. ”
“I know all that. You’re right, of course. That’s what I mean when I say, rationally, I know that I’m doing, and have done, the right thing. You’ve lost so much more than I have pursuing justice for my father. It just doesn’t make it any easier to see a friend get hurt,” I explain.
“No, it doesn’t,” Maximo agrees as he sets my hand in my lap and lets it go, before patting it gently.
“It never does. If I had any advice to offer, Constance, it would just be this: Cherish the guilt. It means you still have a conscience. It means you haven’t become the monster that you’re trying to fight.
I can guarantee you Irina Volkov hasn’t shed any tears for the people around her she’s gotten hurt or killed while coming after us. ”
“I bet you’re right,” I agree after thinking it over. “We’ve got to see this through, for all that we’ve both lost so that we can start looking toward our future together.”
“You know that’s everything I want,” Maximo agrees. “One second,” he adds, holding up a finger to me as his phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out and says, “It’s Sergei. He’s sent me a photo of Irina he says was taken in the last year, as well as the last phone number he has for her.”
Maximo holds the phone where I can see it so that I can study the picture.
The photo is of a blonde woman who has just a hint of gray hair at her temples, clearly visible with her hair swept back in a ponytail.
She has a long face and an unpleasant smile that doesn’t reach her narrow eyes.
Her arm is thrown around a man in a suit that I recognize as her dead son, Kirill.
At my nod, Maximo passes the phone up front to Trenton.
“You and Joey get a good look at this woman. That’s supposedly Irina Volkov,” he tells them.
“Supposedly?” Trenton snorts. “You think Sergei might send you the wrong picture just to fuck with you?”
“I wouldn’t trust the Bratva to tell me it was day or night without looking outside myself,” Maximo retorts. “But I’ll admit, given that Kirill is in the photo, it’s probably her. Unless that boy just had a thing for hanging out with older women.”
“I mean, I’ve got a thing for that,” Trenton says as we pause at a stoplight and he holds the phone up for Joey to see the photo. Once Joey grunts in acknowledgement, he passes it back to Maximo.
We pull into the hospital’s parking deck a few minutes later and Joey circles it a few times until he finds a spot large enough for our SUV.
Once we’re parked, Trenton and Joey lead the way towards the main entrance of the hospital.
We first have to pass the emergency room entrance, and while walking past an ambulance that’s parked at the admitting bay, Joey comes to an abrupt stop and turns back towards Maximo and me.
I don’t know what has caught his attention at first until I look back and hear an engine roaring and the sudden sound of brakes squealing as a white cargo van pulls past us and comes to an abrupt halt.
“That’s her!” Joey says just as the rear doors fly open and two men with rifles leap down from the back. He has just enough time to draw his pistol from his suit coat when I see the flicker of flames from the barrels of the rifles and the thunderous retort of gunshots.
Joey staggers backwards and drops his gun as Trenton backpedals, shoving both Maximo and me back behind the ambulance.
“Get down!” Maximo roars at me as he shoves me in the chest, causing me to fall flat on my ass. He crouches down by me and shoves me under the ambulance as his free hand draws the revolver he always carries. Trenton has his gun out as well and is returning fire over the hood of the ambulance.
“Stay back, goddammit!” Trenton yells at Maximo.
I see one of the shooters from the van stagger backwards and collapse as Trenton keeps firing.
Then I watch in terror as Maximo gets to his feet and advances around the ambulance.
I can hear his revolver as he opens fire and can see the other shooter fall to his knees, still firing his rifle.
Maximo keeps shooting until his gun clicks empty.
As I scramble out from underneath the ambulance, Maximo drops to one knee, then topples over onto his side. A bright pool of blood immediately begins spreading from underneath him as he clutches at his right hip.
“Fuck!” Trenton roars as he keeps firing until the slide on his pistol locks open, signifying his magazine is empty too.
The van’s engine roars again and the tires squeal as it begins to pull away.
Trenton runs over to where Joey is lying, but instead of checking on his friend he snatches up the pistol lying beside him, then fires at the fleeing van until that gun runs out of bullets too.
As the van screeches away and careens into traffic, I rush to Maximo’s side. He’s on his side with his arms wrapped around himself, and his face has turned ashen. “Are you all right?” Maximo manages to gasp as I move his hands away from his lower belly, trying to see where the blood is coming from.
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” I babble. “Oh God, Maximo. There’s so much blood! Where is it all coming from?”
“Caught a bullet…here,” he gasps. He pulls his bloody hands back enough for me to see that his pants are sticking to a wound high on his right hip. As he shows me more blood pours from the wound, and I grab his hands to press against it, using my own to add more pressure.
“Get some help! Trenton, damn you, go get some fucking help!” I screech at the man, who has walked back towards us and is standing over Joey.
“Yeah, yeah, of course.” Trenton shakes his head as he lays the pistol down on Joey’s chest, then runs inside the emergency room.
“You’re going to be all right,” I tell Maximo. “Please, God,” I add my plea as we try to hold in the blood spilling from him.
“Constance, listen to me,” Maximo manages to choke out. “Take my phone. It’s got Irina’s number. You know…you know what to do.” His voice becomes a whisper as his head falls limply to the side.
“I need help!” I scream towards the emergency room. “Someone, please!” It feels like an eternity passes as I keep pressure on Maximo’s hip, but in reality, it’s only seconds before people come flooding out of the automatic doors.
Security guards with drawn pistols, the ambulance personnel with a gurney, nurses, and a woman who must be a doctor swarm around me and lift Maximo from the pavement, rushing him inside. I’m left leaning against the ambulance, gasping for breath.
“Ma’am, are you injured? Ma’am?” one of the nurses demands as she confronts me.
“No, I’m…I think I’m fine,” I tell her while staring in wide-eyed horror at my wet, blood-slicked hands. “It’s his blood. It’s his…” I feel a racking sob rip through me, and a burst of tears that I can’t control.
Trenton appears at my side and throws an arm around me. “You’re okay though, right? Tell me you’re okay, Constance. Maximo will kill me if anything happens to you.”
“There was so much blood.” I clutch at Trenton’s suit coat, leaving awful smears and stains on it and his shirt. “No one can lose that much blood…” I trail off as another sob rips through me.