Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“One way to keep ya awake, huh?” Miko asked, tone calm. “Sal wants me to pack this to hold you over until he gets here,” he explained. “Can’t imagine that’s gonna feel good either. But, hey, pain means you’re alive, right?”
I might have wished a bit for death as he packed shit into the front and back of the wound before they sat me up.
“Here,” Gio said, coming into the room with a bottle of booze. I didn’t even give a fuck what it was, I took it and gulped, feeling it burn down my throat, but knowing it would dull the edges of the pain.
“Okay. Okay. Let’s not add alcohol poisoning on top of everything else,” Saylor said, taking the bottle from me, but taking a quick swig out of it before setting it down.
“I’m gonna be alright,” I told her, even if the wound packing had made a sweat break out across my forehead and intensified the pain a solid threefold.
“Maybe we should move you out of the basement,” Elio suggested. “Kitchen is clean enough to eat off any surface,” he added.
“Think you can move?” Miko asked.
“Yeah,” I said, even if the idea made my stomach lurch.
Miko offered an arm and there was no room for pride as I let him help me off of the ground.
“Sorry about your floor, man,” I told Matej as I looked down at the bloodstain I left there.
It wasn’t until I was sitting on a kitchen chair that I realized Saylor hadn’t followed us up.
“Where’s—“ I started.
“Looking for something,” Matej said, shrugging. “Maybe she lost something in the fight.”
“Can someone make sure she’s not touching the bodies?” I asked, looking at the small crowd around me.
“Don’t worry about the bodies,” Matej said, shaking his head. “I will handle it. No one is going to find them.
“That’s an impressive girl you got,” Miko said. At my blank look, he shrugged. “Took out three of Jan’s guys even though she was outnumbered and knew she would pay for it. Then took out the one who tried to take you out.”
Shit.
That was a big body count.
Was that why she was down there still? Freaking out about it?
As if my thoughts conjured her, I could hear her footfalls as she ran up the stairs. She was still tucking something tiny into her front pocket as she came into view.
“I brought this,” she said, lifting her other hand where she was holding the neck of the liquor bottle. “But small sips,” she demanded as she handed it to me.
It was maybe just five minutes after that when there was the smack of the screen door in the front room, making the Morellis reach for their guns. Just a second before Salvatore came rushing into the kitchen.
“Sal,” I said, offering him a weak smile.
“Is it ever not you getting shot?” he asked. His gaze scanned around the room, giving the Morellis nods, then landing on Saylor.
“Let me look,” he said, setting his bag on the kitchen table beside me, but turning to Saylor.
“I’m fine,” she insisted. “Take care of Anthony.”
“He’ll keep,” Salvatore said, reaching for a pen light from his bag and shining it in each of Saylor’s eyes. “Open,” he demanded, pressing her lower lip until, with a scrunched brow, she did what he asked. “Lucky. Didn’t lose any teeth,” he said. “Don’t even look loose.” With that, he set down the light to press his thumbs into her cheeks and jaw, I guess feeling for breaks or something. “You’re alright,” he declared.
“I told you that,” she said, getting a smile out of the older man.
“Ice all that, though. And ibuprofen for the swelling. Alright, onto your clumsy ass…” he said, turning to me with a smirk. “How long you gonna need to be on my couch again?”
“He’s coming home with me,” Saylor insisted, making all the men try to hide their smiles. “I can take care of him,” she added.
“Dunno about your bedside manner,” I said, shooting her a smirk even as Salvatore pulled open my shirt and started poking around.
“I can be nice,” she said, slitting her one good eye at me.
“Hmm,” Salvatore said as he pulled the packing out and flashed the light inside. “Can someone find the bullet, so I can see if there is any major damage to it that could suggest shit scratched off inside this?”
“I’ll go—“ Matej offered.
“Wait,” Saylor said, reaching into her pocket, and pulling out the bullet.
So that was what she’d been looking for.
“Babe…” I said.
“It was the bullet you took trying to save me,” she said, shifting her feet.
And she wanted to keep it as a memento.
“Should make a necklace out of it for good luck,” Elio said, and the way her neck went a little pink suggested she’d thought the same thing.
“Should I fish the one you used to fill the fuck who’d shot me out of him?” I asked.