‘Twelve stitches, no bullet,’ I said. ‘Lucky me.’
‘Congratulations!’ His smile was all teeth. ‘Your first official Mafia wound. And twelve stitches. That’s impressive.’
‘Is it?’ I pulled the blanket tighter around my arms, covering up all the skin that had been marred with blood.
‘Don’t,’ he said, coming into the room. ‘Let me see.’
Reluctantly, I dropped the blanket, revealing my heavily bloodstained arm. There was a thick gauze plaster covering the wound on my shoulder.
He whistled. ‘Whoa. That’s intense.’
I smiled weakly. ‘Tis but a scratch.’
‘You’re hardcore, Soph.’
My head was starting to swim. I didn’t know what Elena had given me, but I was going all bendy and light-headed. ‘I feel very soft and squishy right now,’ I said. ‘And also, bloody. Very bloody.’
‘Hang on.’ Nic left the room, returning a moment later with a hand towel. He sat down beside me and took my hand in his, laying it across his knee. I just sat there, all floppy, as the painkillers slipped into my system and my lids grew heavy, and watched as he pressed the wet towel against my arm.
‘Thanks, Nic,’ I said, watching him clean the blood away, bit by bit. His head was bent at an angle, his dark brows pulled together. His touch was so gentle I barely felt it.
‘It’s kind of sexy,’ he said, taking my fingers in his, and carefully scrubbing the towel across them, removing the dried blood in my fingernails. ‘All this blood.’
I smiled blissfully at the crown of his head. ‘That is such a stupid thing to say.’
His laugh was a low rumble in his chest.
‘Did Luca speak to Valentino yet?’
‘He’s briefed him,’ Nic answered without looking up.
‘Was Valentino angry?’ I asked.
Nic shrugged. ‘Valentino’s always angry. Luca wants him to push for a truce. Valentino is considering it.’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah.’ Nic snapped his head up. ‘Stupid, right?’
‘What did Luca say?’
‘I guess he just can’t believe they all showed up at a high school. I mean, that’s so messed up.’
‘Yeah,’ I echoed.
‘Luca says there are no rules any more, no shred of honour left between our families, and if we don’t agree to a truce now, then we’re all going to suffer for it.’
It was too much to process. I could only hang on to one thought at once. ‘What happened to Zola Marino?’ I asked. ‘We left her unconscious in a hallway.’
‘She’s been taken into police custody,’ he said. ‘They’re calling her a lone shooter on the news.’
‘Will she talk?’
A mirthless smile. ‘Not a chance.’
‘Will she get bail?’
‘If Donata has anything to do with it. She’s got half of Chicago PD in her pocket.’ He pulled the towel away and lifted my hand to inspect it. ‘Tonight was a disaster.’
‘It won’t be like that next time.’
‘There might not be a next time, if they get their truce.’
‘No,’ I said. ‘We can’t cower, not now.’
‘Tell that to Valentino and Luca,’ Nic said, his tone clipped.
‘There’s no speaking to them when they get like this.’
‘I don’t want a truce, Nic.’
‘And you think I do?’ he said, incredulous. ‘We deserve revenge. You deserve revenge. Tonight was difficult, but you escaped. Donata ended up losing, not us.’ He rolled his eyes, frustration gathering in the corners of his puckered mouth. ‘I don’t know why Luca can’t see it like that.’
‘I’ll have a gun next time. We’ll be better prepared.’ I don’t know why I was fighting so hard. I suppose beneath the fear and the pain and the sudden realization of my own precarious mortality, there was a feeling of strength, of my own determination. I was strong. I had survived tonight. I had helped Luca. And I would survive again. We all would. ‘I’m not afraid, Nic. I’m not afraid of what they’ll do, and I’m not afraid of what I can do.’
He smiled at me, a slow curl of his lips. ‘See,’ he said. ‘You are hardcore.’
He moved the cloth up my arm, brushing the inside of my elbow, his fingers inching around my wrist.
He slid his arm back down. Without meaning to, he was holding my hand, and my fingers were curled inside his. We were much closer than I realized. He was tracing small circles around the wound in my shoulder with his free hand, tenderly cleaning off the dregs of disinfectant and blood.
‘What are you doing?’ I was suddenly so unbearably tired.
He took his hand away, folding the cloth in his lap. ‘I’m proud of you, Soph,’ he said earnestly. ‘You were amazing tonight. A true Falcone.’
I smiled at him. ‘Thank you.’ The words slipped off my tongue, husky and far more intimate than I intended. ‘You smell like a forest.’
The corner of his lip flickered. ‘Looks like the pain meds are kicking in.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
ONE HUNDRED GRAVES
‘What unique brand of violent romanticism is this?’ I snapped my head up to find Millie standing in the doorway to my room. ‘Because I do not love it.’
‘It’s called friendship,’ I said, pulling back from Nic, realizing in a moment of fleeting clarity that perhaps it did look like something different, something I didn’t intend.
She strode into the room, her heels and dress still miraculously intact, the black fishtail trailing behind her. ‘I have now been fully debriefed and suitably threatened by Valentino as per your request, Mr Falcone, sir.’
‘I didn’t tell him to threaten you,’ Nic said. ‘I told him to calm you down. You were getting hysterical.’
‘Huh,’ Millie mused. ‘Well, I guess he threw that part in for free. Anyways, consider my lips sealed. I do want to see my parents live into old age, you know.’
Nic ground out an unintelligible curse. ‘Did he really threaten your family?’
Millie smiled sardonically at him. ‘Only a smidge. May I have a word with my best friend now, please?’
Nic got up, muttering something to Millie before taking his leave and shutting the door behind him.
Millie wheeled around and flipped her hair away from her face. ‘A blood war,’ she said.
It felt like my head was floating several inches above my neck. My fingertips were a little numb. I nodded.
‘Are you freaking kidding me, Soph? Is this some sort of cruel Halloween prank where you dress up as someone I don’t know?’
I flinched at the implication. If only she knew what the real disguise was – the person who had been hanging out with her these past few months, forcing smiles and feigning interest in a future that was no longer within reach.
‘You’re in a blood war!’ she repeated. ‘When the hell were you going to tell me? Or was I supposed to just join the dots at your funeral?’
I raised my hands in the air, trying to placate her. ‘I’ll explain, Mil.’
‘You can definitely try, but I doubt you’ll talk your way out of this.’