14. Francesca
Cassio began removing his shirt, and I helped pull the wet fabric from his freezing skin. Once discarded on the floor, I looked back at him and tried not to freak out. I bit my tongue as hard as I could to keep me from crying. His entire abdomen was coated with blood and to make matters even worse, a large bruise was starting to form on his ribs and on his hip bone.
“It’s not mine,” he repeated for the fifth time since I helped him to the bathroom.
Even with him carrying most of his weight, it took us a long time to reach my room. Cassio grunted all of the way here which gave me cause to think the wound on his abdomen wasn’t the only thing wrong with him. When we finally arrived, it took me another few minutes to shove him inside my bathroom. He wanted to lie down on my bed, but I strongly refused him.
“Well, I have to clean it either way,” I snapped, I couldn’t help myself, I was scared.
I stepped back trying to look at his wound, assessing what the hell I was supposed to do. Thankfully, it wasn’t large, but I didn’t know if it was deep. Dread filled me when I realized I would need to touch it. Before I could move, Cassio pressed his fingers against it, and groaned loudly.
“What are you doing!” I swatted his hand away.
“It’s not that deep. Do you have band-aids?”
“Band-aids, Cassio? You want me to give you band-aids?” I asked, unbelieving.
“Adhesive tape works, too.”
I ran my hands across my face. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I whispered so only I could hear.
Having no clue what to do, I began searching through my mini first aid kit and took out all of the things I thought could be useful. Cassio was now shivering beside me which added to my growing list of worries.
I didn’t stop to think anymore, I just set myself to work. I took the cotton swabs and the antiseptic–hopefully, Grey’s taught me something– then I set them aside again, remembering I needed to clean my hands. The act was hard since he was taking almost all the space in the bathroom. Once I was done, I dried them quickly on the towel and picked up the swab again. Swallowing hard, I pressed it against his wound. Cassio let out a hiss, and I looked back at him.
“Sorry,” I apologized but there was nothing I could do.
I focused on the process of cleaning it as best as I could, and eventually, he stopped hissing. Once I judged it to be clean enough, I sprayed the antiseptic, earning a new hiss. From there, I took the largest band-aid I found and placed it over his wound, then opened another one and did the same.
Cassio was still covered in blood, I needed to clean him up, so I moved toward my shower stall and turned on the faucet and left it there so it could warm up. Once I turned back to him, I noticed he was looking at me, his face was blank as if he were miles away and not here.
“Cassio, you need to warm up,” I spoke softly reaching for him. The only indication that he heard me was a slight nod. He didn’t move as I had expected him to. “You need to remove your clothes.” I pointed out.
Cassio didn’t move, so without any hesitation, I began removing his clothes. With his shirt gone, it only left his pants and shoes. Face blazing, I knelt on the floor and began unbuckling his belt and then unzipped his jeans.
Thank God Cassio was somewhere deep in his head, lost in his thoughts. I wouldn’t be able to do all this if he were one hundred percent conscious. There was a lot to look at which made it really hard not to do so.Despite his situation and the wound on his abdomen, Cassio was beautiful. Toned abs, strong arms, and powerful thighs, all of them defined like he had been made of stone instead of flesh and bone.
When the time came to remove his boxers, I froze but he needed to shower, and I needed to clean his clothes, so he had something to wear. Closing my eyes, I reached for his boxers and pulled them down. I had seen Paolo naked before, it shouldn’t have been a surprise, but Cassio was a manly man. Thankfully he said nothing as I took his briefs and set them together with the dirty clothes.
The mirror was beginning to fog, and I could see the small puffs of steam coming from the shower. I quickly tested the water so that he wouldn’t scald his skin. Sliding my arm underneath his good side, I helped him into the shower. Most of the water hit me first but I didn’t care. Once I was done helping him in, I stepped back out, already sodden. He closed his eyes once the first jets of hot water fell over him. I looked at his band-aids and they were still firmly attached to his skin.
I glanced at his clothes and then at him, unsure whether or not it was a sane idea. “Cassio, I need to wash your clothes, I’ll be right back, okay?”
Cassio nodded, just like he had been doing all this time, but he didn’t talk. I waited a few more minutes just to make sure he wasn’t going to collapse inside the bathroom. I closed the glass door and picked up his clothes from the floor. Quickly, I left the bathroom, leaving the bathroom door open was a good idea, I needed to hear him if something happened.
I ran from my room and into the laundry area, shoved his clothes in the washing machine, and threw washing powder inside.
“Fuck!” I cursed when the machine didn’t turn on quickly enough. By the time it did, my nerves were already eating me up.
“Cassio,” I called, once I reached my room once more.
Nothing.
“Cassio,” I tried again.
I reached the bathroom in record time but halted once I saw him sitting on the floor. Why was I so stupid?! I shouldn’t have left him. I should have brought my phone with me, I needed to call 911, and I didn’t care about the consequences. I opened the glass door bracing for the worst.
Cassio was sitting with his head bowed between his knees. Water poured over him, the skin on his back was gleaming in an angry red. I stepped inside the shower cursing when the scalding water touched me. Quickly, I turned the cold faucet on. I had turned it on. I recall making sure the water wasn’t too hot.
“Cassio.” I crouched beside him. The sight of him was haunting. His powerful frame seemed so small right now.
I placed my hand on his upper arm, his skin burning. Slowly he turned toward me and when he opened his eyes, I finally allowed myself to breathe. I knew he was alive, but the thoughts of something worse happening just kept coming back. I looked at the white tiled floor and noticed the water was still coming out in a pinkish hue.
“I’m going to wash you, okay?” Not waiting for his answer, I reached for a loofah and began cleaning him up.
“I killed them.” He finally spoke again, startling me.
“Who, Cassio?” I asked as I cleaned him.
“All of them.”
Okay. Breathe, Francesca.
My heartbeat increased, and I tried to ignore it. I knew what Cassio was, and I knew what being Capo meant. You didn’t get to rule the Outfit unless you were worthy of that title, and I knew Cassio didn’t keep it by being nice.
“I lost it, Francesca, I killed his men.”
“Who’s, Cassio?” I asked worriedly.
“Grigori Petrovich. I found them at a bar and killed them all,” he whispered.
“It’s okay,” was all I managed to say. What he was telling me was definitely Outfit business, but for me, it was all gibberish.
“No, Francesca, you don’t understand! I killed his men today,” he said and that was all of it.
When I was done washing him, he finally stood up, almost towering over me. I yanked the towel from the bar and began gently patting him, avoiding the area where I had patched him up. He didn’t complain but neither did he speak.
“To bed now,” I ordered him, and he didn’t complain either. I led him toward my bedroom and pulled the duvets on my bed.
Out of respect, I looked away from his nakedness, but mainly because I was a coward. In the end, I took one small peek at his peach-shaped ass and then quickly closed my eyes.
“You can look if you want,” he said with a smile. My eyes widened; he was facing me. I did everything not to look down. “What’s pretty is meant to be seen.”
“God,” I rolled my eyes. “You must have hit your head pretty hard. Go to bed, Cassio.”
He sat on the edge and slowly slid in. His wince was the only indication that he was in pain. I pulled up the blankets covering him up carefully. The amount of time it took me to turn off the bathroom light was the amount of time it took him to fall asleep. I sighed deeply, not knowing what to do now. Reggie and that big heart of his curled right beside Cassio and closed his eyes, too.
5:08. The clock read.
I sat on my sofa, foot tapping anxiously against the floor. Forty minutes ago, I had put Cassio to sleep. More than one hour ago, he stormed into my apartment. My head snapped toward where the stains of blood had been.
After he fell asleep, I managed to clean the mess left in his wake and also changed from my wet clothes. The moment I sat on the sofa it all came crashing down. I was shaking, and I couldn’t tell if it was the fear of what just happened or if I wanted to use. Who was I kidding? I knew that both options were correct.
Thankfully there was nothing in my apartment that I could use, but on the downside, I had no painkillers he could take once he woke up.
My mind was still trying to wrap around the fact that none other than Cassio was sleeping in my bed. Today I experienced a kind of fear I hadn’t experienced in a long time. The kind that had crushed me once.
I couldn’t lose anyone else, not like I had lost Arabella, my best friend. It was undeniable that I still obviously cared for Cassio. I would always do so, no matter what he’d done to me, a part of me would always care. I don’t know what I would have done if he had?—
“No,” I whispered.
He’s alive, I reminded myself. He was alive, breathing, and safe. Or at least that’s what I hoped. I had no idea of the extent of his bruises, or if they were serious. Most of all, I had no idea if he was safe. Cassio didn’t just freak me out of my mind—possibly giving me a heart attack—he told me things tonight that were undoubtedly very sensitive. He wasn’t just Cassio, if it were that, then my life would be easier. Cassio was Capo of the Outfit.
I looked at the phone once again.
I shouldn’t, I really shouldn’t, he asked me not to. What if I didn’t? What if something really bad happened and I didn’t do something to avoid it?
I reached for the phone.
The phone rang thrice before it was picked up.“Frankie?” A very sleepy Marie answered the phone.
“Can you put Vitelli on the phone?”
“Frankie it’s,” there was a pause. “It’s 5 a.m. Is everything all right?”
“Marie, I need to talk to Vitelli, now.” I hated to snap at my friend, but it was urgent.
“Francesca,” he called me back to earth.
“Shit.” I cursed; I hadn’t reached this part in my head. In fact, I didn’t even know I was going to call him until two seconds ago. “Okay,” I said more to myself than to him. I heard Marie’s voice in the background, and I knew she was thinking the worst right now. Better end this misery.
“I think Cassio screwed up. Screwed up big.” I heard covers being shifted on the other end of the line.
“What do you mean, where’s my brother?” The worry in his tone was apparent, and I hated myself for being the one to bring him bad news.
“He’s here, but he’s hurt.” There was no reason to lie. A long silence followed then.
“Here where? I’m leaving right now.”
“No. No. No.” I stood up. “You can’t come, he made me promise not to tell you.”
“Francesca.” He growled. “Where’s my brother?”
“He’s in my apartment. He’s safe.” I think.
“Your apartment?” he asked with the same amount of disbelief I was still feeling. Then I proceeded to tell him everything.
“What kind of meds do you have there?” he asked when I was done talking.
“None,” I whined. None since I took my last two pills yesterday. Aside from that, I only had my mini kit, and it was a pitiful little thing.
“Okay, that’s fine.” He assured me. “When you check his bandages make sure it’s not getting infected. If it keeps bleeding nonstop, put some sugar on his wound. That should stop it. Do you have chamomile or turmeric?”
“Hmm, yeah. I have both.”
“Give him as much chamomile tea as you can, it will help with the muscle pain, and make some turmeric tea as well, it should serve as a painkiller.”
How the hell did he know all of that?
“Francesca?”
“Hmm.”
“Don’t let him walk around or anything with too much physical exertion, from what you told me, I think he must have cracked his ribs.”
“Okay.” I made a mental note of all he just told me. “Vitelli, what if it doesn’t stop bleeding?” I asked because it was the one thing that worried me the most.
“Then you take him to the ER and call me. I’ll deal with the rest. It will be all right, Francesca. Just call me when he wakes up. Marie will text you, my number. Okay?”
No. It was not okay.
“Yeah.” Another pause before I sighed again. “Vitelli, one more thing.”
“Don’t tell me it gets worse,” he protested.
“Sorry,” I admitted. “He kept telling me he killed them, over and over again. When I asked him who, he started talking nonsense. He did mention something about a Grigori Petrovich and something about a bar,” I told him almost everything, earning me a long vivid line of curses.
“Fuck!” he shouted. “Okay, I’ll post some guards at your building in case something happens.”
“Will something happen?” I gripped the phone harder.
“I don’t know, we never know with the Russians, just… call me if something happens.”
“Okay,” I assured him and that was the end of it.
I dropped the phone on my sofa and headed toward my door, then locked it once more. It was a foolish thing to do if the Russians wanted to get in, they would, but at least it gave me a sense of safety. I then headed into the kitchen and took a knife from the counter. Turning all my lights off, I headed back to my room where I found Cassio sleeping soundly in my bed.
I checked his bandage, there was no blood seeping from the wound but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t get infected. I stared at his torso and the massive bruise forming over it and then unable to look at it any longer I turned away. Anger boiled in my blood and rage coiled in the depths of my soul. I wanted the men who hurt him to pay.