All I Believe (Firsts and Forever, #10)(69)

Vincent dropped both his weapons and pulled out his phone, and I glanced at my watch and tried to estimate how long the ambulance would take to arrive. As my cousin called for help, I leaned close to Luca and told him, “Don’t you die on me. Do you hear me? An ambulance will be here soon. I know it hurts but you have to stay with me. You have to. Do you hear me, Luca?” He gave a single nod, his wide, green eyes locked with mine as the color drained from his face.

Andreo had dropped to his knees, too. He looked stricken as he stammered, “Luca, I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. Why’d you do that? Why’d you get in the way of the bullet?”

“Because I love him.” His voice so thin.

“Oh God, Luca,” I whispered, and bent to kiss his forehead, never taking the pressure off his wound. With my other hand, I picked up his wrist to check his pulse. It was weak.

My cousin Jerry plucked the gun from Andreo’s hand and demanded, “What the f*ck is going on here?” It took me a moment to register the fact that he’d arrived in the Bronco and brought some people with him, all of whom had guns trained on Andreo and his men.

Dante stepped forward. “This is Mike Mazetti,” he said, indicating Andreo. “I was working with him on a business deal, and we had a difference of opinion. Tempers flared, you know how it goes. I appreciate you coming to help, but Vincent and I can take it from here.”

Jerry narrowed his eyes and said, “I thought you were on the straight and narrow these days. It’s news to me that you’re still involved in the type of business that involves firearms.”

Dante shrugged and said, “It doesn’t usually, but shit happens.”

After considering that for a long moment, Jerry handed Dante the gun he’d taken from Andreo and said, “Alright. So who’s the guy that got shot?”

“Luca Caruso, Nico’s boyfriend,” Dante said, sticking the gun in the back of his waistband.

I looked up at Jerry and said, “The ambulance is on its way. We need to clear a path for it.”

“You heard him,” Jerry yelled. “Get those vehicles out of the way!” His men rushed to comply, and Andreo handed one of his people the keys to the white SUV. Glass crunched under their tires as the big vehicles were backed out into the street.


The ambulance pulled up a minute later, sirens blaring. A man and woman in uniform hurried into the building carrying a large crash kit. Andreo got out of the way, and I kept pressure on the wound as I glanced at my watch and told them, “Single GSW to the chest, six minutes ago. Significant blood loss, pulse dropping. It missed the heart and lungs, not sure if the bullet exited the body.”

It tore my heart out to have to step back and let them take over, but they had all the equipment, not me. In just a couple minutes they had him as stable as possible, and transferred him to the gurney that the ambulance driver had wheeled out. “There’s room for one of you to ride along to the hospital,” the female EMT told us.

Andreo and I looked at each other, and he said, “You go ahead. He’s going to want to know you’re there, not me. I’ll follow in my rental.” I nodded and climbed aboard the ambulance.

Luca was swimming in and out of consciousness when I sat down beside him and picked up his hand. He blinked at me over the oxygen mask that covered his nose and mouth, and I told him, borrowing the nickname, “It’s going to be okay, mio tesoro. You’re in good hands.” He couldn’t reply, but kept his eyes locked with mine until he finally passed out from the blood loss.

Only when he was no longer looking at me did I press my eyes shut and let my fear and worry show. “Please don’t die,” I whispered. “This can’t be how our story ends.” I kept my finger on his pulse as I held his hand. It was so faint. I thanked God for every beat, no matter how weak, and prayed for them to continue.

They wheeled him straight to surgery when we arrived at the hospital. I stood in the long hallway staring after him, feeling so lost. The fluorescent lights made everything look so cold and unnatural, like a dreamscape I wished I could wake up from.

I jumped when someone touched my arm, and turned to look at my cousin Vincent. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” When I looked down at myself, I realized I was shirtless, and that my hands were covered in blood.

I let him lead me to the men’s room, and washed my hands thoroughly. He handed me a dark grey t-shirt and said, “This was in my gym bag in the car. It’s clean, though.” I thanked him and pulled on the t-shirt, which turned out to have a big Superman logo on the chest. “My son got it for me,” he explained.

When I was cleaned up, we went into the waiting room and sat beside Dante. We were joined a few moments later by Andreo. He perched on the very edge of a chair across from ours, his forehead creased with concern and strain showing around his hazel eyes. After a while, he asked, “Why did you lie to your cousin about who I am?”

“He doesn’t need to know the truth,” Dante told him. “It would just stir up trouble.”

“Thank you.”

“Speaking of trouble, the police will be here any minute. It’s standard procedure for the hospital to phone them when a gunshot victim is brought in. We need to get our story straight. We can go with the whole ‘you were showing us the gun when it accidentally went off’ excuse. The cops hear that all the time, but sometimes it’s actually true. I assume it wasn’t properly registered, right?” Dante asked, and Andreo nodded.