CHAPTER 18
RAFE
The machines beeping around me were what woke me. I opened my eyes and instantly panicked at the feel of something in my mouth. Instinctively, one hand went to my right side for the knife I always concealed there, while the other went to my face to grab whatever the hell was trying to suffocate me.
My panic only rose further when I found no knife at my side, and tightly tucked sheets stopping me from getting my heavy and sluggish hand to my side.
I started to cough and gasp for breath as I reached both hands for whatever was stopping me breathing and found a plastic tube down my throat.
I sat up, ignoring the fiery pain that ripped through me as I tore tape from my face and ripped the tube out, gasping, fighting, and coughing as it came out painfully
“RAFE!”
The frantic cry had me looking up with alarm, and my panic and fears only rose when I found Cara rushing towards me, looking terrified and so pale. Where were we? What the fuck was going on?
“Rafe, stop!” Cara cried as she raced to me, but the tube was already out and I threw it aside as I moved to get out of the fucking bed and find my knife. I had to get Cara out of wherever we were. She looked so thin and shaky. Had we been captured? Was this Adamian?
I swung my legs from the bed, sheets and all, and was almost to my feet when Cara rushed at me and pushed against my shoulders.
“CAL!” She shouted frantically as she looked up and met my eyes. “Rafe, it’s alright. Please just stay there. You’re in the hospital!” she gasped breathlessly.
“Cara?”
I looked up, grabbing Cara’s arm in an attempt to pull her close, as the male voice had my hackles rising. The room was starting to spin around me and I was fighting to breathe as my chest grew tighter and tighter.
“Rafe! Fuck!”
I looked up again. Where were my men? Dario? Why wasn’t anyone there protecting my sister?
“Rafe, it’s me. It’s Cal. Everything’s alright. Your men are outside and we’re all safe here. You were shot, mate. You’ve been in a coma.”
“Cara?” I gasped. It came out a rough rasp.
“She’s safe. Brax is in the hospital along with two full teams, and two other teams escorted us here and are waiting to take us home. Everyone is safe, Rafe. You need to lie back down now,” Cal told me emphatically.
“Please Rafe. D-don’t hurt yourself anymore,” Cara pleaded.
I dropped my gaze to her, and found tears pouring down her cheeks, her hands, which were still pressing against my shoulders, were shaking violently.
“Dario,” I growled, the word painful to push out through my raw throat.
I sat back on the bed and heard Cara’s sigh of relief. She released me and then Cal was there, lifting my legs back onto the bed and covering me over with a sheet. I was bare chested and wearing only a pair of checked sleep trousers I wouldn’t be seen dead in at home. They weren’t mine.
“I’ll ring him and get him here. Just try to catch your breath,” Cal told me.
“I’ll tell the nurse he’s awake.”
Cara had already fled the room by the time I looked up to protest her being anywhere alone.
I could remember now. The ambush in the car park of the hospital. The gun aimed right at my sister. I’d jumped to push her out of the way, and that had to be how I ended up shot. It wasn’t safe for Cara to be alone.
“Rafe, sit back!” Cal snapped when I moved to go after her. “Dom is right outside the door, and Joey is sat with a clear view of the nurses station. She’s covered.”
“Who sh-shot me?” I bit out, my pain making me even more short tempered.
“We don’t know yet. Dario has everyone working on it, and Kean is helping out, but we don’t have the answer to that yet,” he sighed as he started reapplying the heart monitors I had obviously displaced when I jumped up.
“How bad?”
“Bad enough. The bullet hit your lung. It was touch and go for a while, and you’ve been in a drug induced coma, on a ventilator, for twelve days, to give the lung time to heal. It’s going to take time to get back to your full strength, but you’ll get there.”
“Twelve days,” I ground out with frustration.
Twelve days without retaliation. Twelve days of every player in London eyeing up how they could take power from us while we were looking weak and vulnerable. Twelve days that my sister and my family had been in danger while I was unconscious.
“Give me your phone.”
“No. I’ll call Dario and get him here, but you need to calm down, Rafe. You’ve had major surgery and been in a bloody coma.”
“Callan. Give me your damn phone right now,” I snarled, in too much pain and too impatient to argue with him.
“Fine, but just remember I tried to stop you when this sets your recovery back.”
Cal pulled his phone from the pocket of his jeans, unlocked it, then slapped it into my waiting hand.
The phone barely rang once before Dario answered.
“Cal? What’s wrong?” he demanded anxiously.
“It’s me,” I rasped. My throat felt like it was filled with shards of glass. It sounded like that too, and I had to fight for every word between gasps for breath.
“Rafe? What the…”
“I’m awake. Get over here. I need to know what’s going on.”
“Jesus, brother. You have no idea how relieved I am to hear you growling at me. You almost fucking died on us.”
“They’ll have to try harder than that to get rid of me,” I told him in a gentler tone.
I could hear the stress in his voice, and knew he had to have had a hell of a time trying to keep everything going on his own, especially when our enemies would have been testing their bounds with me out of action.
“Yeah,” he laughed. “That’s what I thought. Rest up. I’m on my way.”
He ended the call and I handed Cal his phone back. I had no choice but to lay my head on the pillow for a moment, closing my eyes and hoping the room would stop fucking spinning. I didn’t have time for this shit. I needed to get back to my position and show we were as strong then, as we ever were.
We needed to retaliate for what happened, end the situation with Cara, and get revenge for Gia, all while maintaining the peace enough for me to hand the docks off and get the fuck out of this life once and for all. Piece of fucking cake.
I opened my eyes at the sound of heavy footfalls entering the room, then groaned when a doctor in blue scrubs walked in. Cara was right behind him, and she looked to me with her red, glassy eyes, making me feel even more like shit for scaring her so badly when I woke up.
“I’m okay, sweetheart. Please don’t cry,” I told her.
“Just let the doctor check you over and decide that, alright?” she said shakily.
I begrudgingly cooperated with the doctor as he poked and prodded me, but only for Cara’s sake. I didn’t want her worrying more about me.
“Well, I’d say you’re doing remarkably well for a man who almost died a fortnight ago,” he surmised when he was finally finished.
“Your wound is healing nicely and your breathing sounds improved. Your oxygen levels aren’t ideal, but that’s to be expected.
You may have some shortness of breath and difficulty breathing while your lung continues to heal. ”
“I’m fine,” I snapped. “I want to go home. Start the paperwork.” Even just that amount of talking had my chest feeling tight and my breaths becoming short though.
“It’s going to be a while before you can go home, Mr. De Santis.
We want to keep you under observation for several days at least. You were in a coma for twelve days.
Physically you are going to be very weak.
Your muscles will have debilitated in the time you were under, and you may need physiotherapy to become active again.
You’ll find breathing hard because your diaphragm and chest muscles will have been weakened significantly.
You’re looking at an eight week recovery at least, possibly much longer than that,” the doctor droned on.
“But he will recover? There won’t be lasting damage, right?” Cara asked.
“Of course…” I was talked over, which only pissed me off further.
“There are several possibilities that could cause lasting breathing issues for your brother, but full recovery is possible.”
“Enough!” I roared. My temper was the shortest it had ever been and this asshole was pissing me the fuck off! “I’m fine. I can breathe fine. And I already stood. I’ll consult a private physio if I have need of one. Just get me whatever I need to sign to get out of here.”
“Rafe…” Cal tried.
“You’re not leaving, Rafe!” Cara snapped, cutting Cal off. “You were shot! I’ve been sat beside your bed for days, terrified I’d lose you. Now I’ve got you back, I won’t risk losing you because you’re a stubborn idiot!”
“I have to agree. I couldn’t, in good conscience…”
“Get out!” I barked at the doctor, cutting off whatever else he was about to blurt out.
“Mr. De Santis….”
“I said leave! Believe me, you do not want to push the limits of my patience right now,” I threatened.
“Maybe just give him some space for now,” Cal interceded, obviously hearing the death in my tone. “I’ll ask for one of the nurses to let you know when we’re ready.”
I watched on impatiently as he ushered the doctor out of the room I was in, then closed the door behind him, coming back to face me.
“You can’t kill the man who saved your life, Rafe,” he reminded me.
“And I won’t, if he does as told.”
My voice faltered at the end of the sentence and I found myself coughing hard, my eyes watering with the pain it caused to my chest and throat.
“For God’s sake, Rafe! This is why you need to stay in the hospital.
You’re not alright!” Cara worried as she came closer, grabbing a bottle of water from the tall cabinet beside me and cracking it open.
She pushed a straw in the top and held it out to me.
I took a few sips and the agonising coughing finally settled down.
I collapsed back against the pillows then, exhausted.
“Thanks, Gioia,” I whispered once Cara had set down the water and leaned in over me to scowl even deeper.