Our break-up broke my heart, but deep down I believed as long as he and I were both alive, there was hope that one day the stars would align, and we could be together. If he dies that hope dies with him.
Swallowing, I push that thought aside and focus on Joaquin.
“Laying low won’t be a problem, the Academy will never allow me to continue there after what happened tonight. My career is finished.”
“Violet—”
“No, Joaquin. I’m fine with it. I can live without the ballet, but I can’t live without Rocco.” I look away and stare at the door. “I know you don’t understand our relationship. I also know you probably had a hand in him breaking up with me, but I love him, Joaquin. Flaws and all, I love that man and if he dies—”
“He’s not going to die,” he interrupts. “And I can promise you whoever did this to him is going to fucking pay and they’re going to pay dearly.”
“I doubt that considering you don’t even know who shot him!”
His jaw clenches.
“I have a good fucking idea.”
Someone clears their throat and we both turn to face Richie. He glances over his shoulder and the doctor emerges from the room, holding a pair of tweezers and what looks like a Corningware dish. He plucks the bullet from the dish and looks back at us.
“You got the bullet?” Joaquin asks.
“Sure did.”
“How is he?”
“Critical but stable,” he answers, dropping the tweezer and the bullet back in the dish. He hands it off to Richie and pulls the latex gloves from his hands. “The man needs a hospital and another transfusion.”
“I can give more blood,” I say, holding out my arm. The doctor looks at me before bringing his eyes to my brother, completely dismissing me.
“I gave him morphine for the pain and antibiotics, but—”
I don’t let him continue. I’m too anxious to see him with my own eyes. Too desperate to bleach the memory of him gasping for breath and bleeding out from my mind.
“Can I see him?”
Annoyed I interrupted him, his gaze cuts back to me.
“He’s not conscious.”
“I don’t care. I just need to see him.”
The doctor looks at Joaquin for direction and I watch my brother give him the slightest hint of a nod. Then I take off for the bedroom, leaving the two of them to go over Rocco’s plan of care. As soon as I step foot inside the bedroom my eyes fill with tears. I rush to his side and take his hand when all I really want to do is lay my head on his chest and hear his heartbeat. I lift his hand and press my lips to his wrist, lingering for a moment until I feel his pulse beat against my lips.
Closing my eyes, I silently thank God.
As long as he’s alive, there is hope.
There is love.
Chapter 35
Rocco Spinelli
At the end of a man’s life he won’t reflect on all the scores he settled. He won’t revel in the power he had or the ranks he climbed to get it. He won’t count his wins, but he will measure his regrets. I know this to be a fact because after that bullet hit me, that’s exactly what happened. I stared into Violet’s eyes and I wished for more time. More moments spent loving her and not missing her. Another chance and not to say goodbye, but to make it right.
I’ve never been a man of faith, but when I opened my eyes and saw Violet sitting beside my bed, still covered in my blood, I became a believer. It wasn’t luck that saved me. It wasn’t skill. It was God. He wanted me to be better. To have another shot at this life. To repent my sins.
“You’re awake,” she said, her voice hoarse. There were tears streaming down her pretty face too, tears I wanted so desperately to brush away, but I couldn’t move. I could barely speak. My throat was dry, and it felt as if there was a cinderblock laying on my chest.
She leaned forward and took my face in her hands. Our eyes locked and a sad smile slowly spread across her face.
“You’re really awake,” she whispered.
I forced my lips apart and struggled to say the only words that mattered.
“I…love…you.”
It came out as a whisper, but I was sure she heard it and that was enough for me. I closed my eyes and drifted back to sleep. When I woke again, some hours later, she was still at my side. She had changed her clothes and was sleeping in the chair next to the bed.
“She won’t leave the room.”
I tried to turn at the sound of Joaquin’s voice, but as soon as I moved my head, I felt like I was going to throw up. He must’ve noticed my discomfort and moved to my line of sight.
“Bullet got lodged in your chest,” he reveals, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “Doc was able to get it out, but you lost a lot of blood.” He pauses and looks at Violet. “Did you know the two of you share the same blood type?”
I forced a swallow, biting through the pain and managed a single word.
“No.”
“Yeah, well you do,” he said, bringing his eyes back to me. “Got her blood flowing through your veins, now.” He paused for a beat. “That’s something, ain’t it?”
It sure fucking was.
“Look, Rocco, I know I’ve been hard on you when it comes to her, that I may have swayed you into believing you didn’t deserve her, but I see it. I see the love you got for her and she for you. No man or woman should ever try to interfere with that. It’s too rare. Too fucking special.”
“It could’ve been her,” I rasp.
He shakes his head.
“Not this time,” he said pointedly before revealing everything he knew about the shooting. Apparently, there was no trace of a car or sign of shooter. No one saw anything, leading him to believe it was a sniper. Someone wanted me dead and only me. They weren’t looking to make an example of Violet or trying to prove a point. They wanted to execute me. Period. End of story.
Of course, Joaquin thinks Yankovich is responsible. With me out of the picture that leaves the Knights as his only roadblock. I suppose it makes sense, but what’s the end game. Where do we go from here? He shot me in public. I was surrounded by people and according to him, the shooting made the front page of the papers. Hell, some newspapers are reporting I’m dead. Forget being the second coming of Victor Pastore, I’m the next Jimmy Hoffa. Not to mention, they’ve identified Violet too. Once they find us, they’ll probably take her in for questioning. They’ll press her information and even though I was the one who got shot, they’ll look to take me down. And if they don’t, if the cops lay off and Yankovich finds out I survived, well, then the thing we feared most, may become a reality and he’ll go after Violet.
It was a lot to think about and I was still feeling the effects of the morphine. Joaquin told me to give it some thought, and I did until I fell asleep again. Now, it’s the next morning and I still don’t have a solution, but I have Violet lying next to me and anything else doesn’t seem to matter.
“How are you feeling?” she questions I intertwine our fingers.
The pain has lessened some and I’m able to move a little more freely. I still haven’t kissed her, though, but that’s only because Violet has this unrealistic fear that if her lips touch my chest will split open and I’ll die.