28. Lucy
Lucy
“ I t’s not as bad as it looks,” Adriano says as Luca helps him to the couch.
I stare at my husband’s bloody shirt. He’s got a bandage shoved against his side, and it’s drenched and sticky. Luca looks almost as bad, though I think the blood on him is from someone else.
“What happened?” I ask, unable to move. Fear keeps me stuck in place. I’ve never seen so much blood before in my life.
“Ambush,” Luca says, his face hard. Then his voice softens almost to a whisper. “I should check the guys on duty and make sure none of them are loyal to Frank.”
“Take care of it.” Adriano nods at him, and Luca strides off.
My husband leans back. For a moment, his eyes flutter shut. His face is pale, and he’s clearly in a lot of pain. I’ve never seen this kind of violence before in all my life. Even though my parents were addicts and constantly getting into trouble, they never crossed the line into physical abuse.
I’ve been sheltered. Money and privilege all but guaranteed I’d never see anything like this in my life.
But I married a violent man. I knew it the moment I first saw him. And even though he’s a nightmare and a killer, I still want him, and I still need him right now.
I force myself to move. I’m not Lucy Willing-Morris anymore.
I’m Lucy Marino, the Don’s wife, and I have to be strong for him.
“How bad is it?” I say, rushing to his side.
“Not too bad.” He glances at me and smiles a little. “You look worried.”
“You’re shot.” I gently move his hand and look beneath the towel. There’s a single wound there. “Oh my god, Adriano. You need a hospital.”
“The doctor’s on his way.”
“You need an operation.”
“Then we’ll do it here.”
“This is insane. Adriano?—”
“No hospitals,” he says sharply, staring at me hard. “Listen to me carefully. Frank tried to kill me today, and he might try again. We’re all in danger until we find him. Until then, we’re staying here in the house where I can make sure you’re safe.”
My heart races into my throat. Frank tried to kill him? The old Capo did this? But Frank seemed so kind and loyal, or at least he was always nice to me the few times I met him.
I try to imagine Frank shooting Adriano and find it almost impossible to believe.
But this is his world. Adriano’s life is blood and bullets. If I’m going to survive it and become a sharper, stronger version of myself for him, I have to trust him first.
“What can I do?” I ask, desperate to help him.
He only smiles and takes my hand. “Sit with me. Talk to me while we wait.”
“Should I tell you a story?” I ask, feeling giddy with terror. I can’t believe this is happening right now. My husband’s bleeding on the couch, and one of his most trusted advisors wants him dead.
“You can tell me anything you want.” His eyelids flutter. “Just so long as I get to hear your voice.”
“Stay with me.” I slap him lightly.
He smiles. “How’d you know I like it rough?”
“Because you’ve been inside me enough at this point that it’s pretty obvious.” I slap him again, a little harder. This time, his eyes open.
“Come on, wife. Tell me a story. Keep me distracted.”
“Alright, okay, a story.” I rack my brain, and for whatever reason, all I can come up with is the worst night of my life. “I was twelve when my dad died. I don’t know why I’m bringing this up now.”
“What happened to him?” Adriano asks.
“He was an addict. Both he and my mom used pretty heavily all my life. I understood at a really young age that they had a problem. Grandmother tried to shelter me from it as much as she could, but they were pretty terrible. They stole from her, stole from the family, and would disappear for days and days. Dad died during one of the rare happy periods.”
Adriano takes my hand. “I’m sorry you went through that. If I could go back and protect you, I would.”
“I know you would.” I lean in and kiss his cheek.
“Dad was worse at hiding his addiction than Mom was. She tried to pull it together when I was around, but Dad always slipped up. There was this one week, though, this perfect little week, where they were both keeping it together. I’m sure they were high as kites most of the time, but they were hiding it and acting like parents.
We went to the movies, they took me to the zoo, we did all that sort of stuff.
We watched movies at night. Dad would nod off, probably from the drugs.
“But it all changed when I woke up alone on the couch. I didn’t know where anyone was.
I remember being so confused. Mom and Dad were there one second watching Finding Nemo with me, and then they were gone and the TV was turned off.
I got up and went looking for them, but the house was so quiet.
I found Mom in bed, her limbs half hanging out of the sheets, snoring loudly.
Her gear was right there on the nightstand. Then I found Dad in the bathroom.”
I stop talking. That image is forever seared into my brain. Dad’s skinny body, naked, sitting in a tub of tepid water, pale and dead, a needle still stuck in his arm. His mouth was hanging open. His eyes were staring at nothing.
Adriano leans into me and strokes my thigh. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. You’re here with me.”
I realize I’m crying. I wipe my face, embarrassed.
He’s the one who got shot, and here I am spilling my guts out for no reason.
“He overdosed,” I say, finishing the story.
“It took me a while to wake Mom up, but eventually they called the paramedics. He was gone way before they ever arrived. It’s something I think about a lot, though.
How we had one last good night together.
Everything felt perfect, like we were normal.
And then he was gone, and nothing was the same after that.
Mom spiraled into her addiction even worse, and Grandmother got stricter and more difficult, and it was like the world never recovered. It was the end of everything.”
I stop talking. Adriano kisses me lightly and brushes aside my hair. His eyes are bright, and he’s paying close attention, and I guess my pathetic story did its job at least.
“Nobody deserves that,” he says very softly. “I’m sorry, Lucy. I’m so sorry.”
“It was a long time ago.” I try to smile for him, but it doesn’t feel right. “It just doesn’t matter anymore.”
There’s a minor commotion near the front door. I jump to my feet, heart racing, ready to fight if that’s what it takes to keep Adriano safe. Instead, Luca comes back into the room, followed by a middle-aged man with graying hair and a lean, athletic build carrying a huge backpack.
“I hear you’re nearly dying,” the man says.
“Thanks for coming, Dr. Chen.” Adriano grunts as the doctor moves the towel aside and clucks his tongue. “That good, huh?”
“You need a hospital.”
“No, I need you.” Adriano leans forward, gritting his teeth.
“You need surgery. This isn’t some minor wound.”
“I can’t do a hospital. Think of another option.”
Dr. Chen sighs and rubs his face. “I could cut you open in the bathtub.”
“Fine with me.”
“Absolutely not,” I cut in sharply.
“There’s an ambulatory operating room we could use.” Dr. Chen frowns, head tilted. “We’ll have to move you, but it’s not a hospital. I’ll bring in people I trust. But this won’t be cheap.”
“Money’s not an issue.” Adriano nods at the doctor. “Set it up.”
“Then let’s get going. I’ll make some calls. Luca, help Adriano into the car. I’ll text you the address.” Dr. Chen strides out of the room.
“You heard the doctor,” Luca says, coming around the couch. “Time to go.”
“Well, fuck,” Adriano says. Luca takes one side, and I take the other, and together we get Adriano up to his feet. “This is going to be fucking terrible.”
“Yep,” I confirm. “It most definitely is.”