Mafiosa (Blood for Blood #3)(54)

The pain was bad, and it was only made worse by the realization that I had been shot. ‘Yes,’ I heaved. ‘I can walk.’

Ignore the pain. Use it as fuel.

He stowed the guns on top of the lockers, grabbed my shoes, and left Zola Marino in a bloody, unconscious heap behind us.

We hurried through the corridors, weaving our way back towards the gym. I was lagging behind, but he pulled me with him.

‘The blood,’ I said, watching the red track across the side of my dress. The cuts Donata had left on my neck were adding to the crimson rivers on my skin. ‘They’ll see. They’ll know.’

Luca was already shrugging off his suit jacket. He draped it around me, and then pulled me against him.

‘I’m going to staunch the wound.’ As he said it, the hand that had been draped around me squeezed against the bullet wound in my shoulder, pressing so hard I slumped against him.

‘Urrgh,’ I warbled.

‘Sorry,’ he said, straining. ‘Just try and grit through it, Soph.’

I examined myself for any more tell-tale signs of blood, trying not to focus on the mild torture coursing through my body. Luca’s suit jacket was so big it dwarfed me. It dwarfed all evidence of our scuffle.

We made our way across the now-empty dance floor. He dropped my shoes among the other stilettos that had been discarded during the chaos. There was no way I could teeter convincingly in them now.

I groaned.

‘I’ll get you a new pair,’ he said.

‘Not that,’ I hissed. ‘The pain. Your grip. It’s so tight.’

‘It’ll stop the bleeding,’ he said. ‘We’re about to walk into a huge amount of cops. Just follow my lead, OK?’

‘Jack – Donata,’ I tried to explain. ‘They’re here.’

‘They’ll be long gone,’ he said, but there was no confidence in his voice, no confidence in the way he was scanning the gym.

I wound my good arm around his back, pressed my head against his shoulder and tried not to flinch from the pressure coming from his other hand. We stumbled through the front doors, joining the last dregs of students crying and shouting, and then I channelled every element of hysteria inside me and started screaming too.





CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE


RED AND BLUE




Everything was red and blue. A line of heavily armed policeman surrounded the exit. We stumbled forward, and I slipped into the role of terrified-innocent-teenager more easily than I had hoped possible. I was crying so loudly my voice was resonating with the sirens’ pitch. Luca held my head against him and whispered fake nothings into my hair. His fingers pressing tighter and tighter against the wound, the nausea curling in my stomach.

Over my head, I heard him speaking to the policemen. ‘She’s in shock. She was in the bathroom when it started. I had to drag her out of the stall.’

I pressed my face into his jacket, and wailed some more.

The cops were asking Luca questions about the shooter. He was batting them away expertly. ‘I don’t know. I was with my girlfriend the whole time. She had a panic attack. Can I take her home?’

I sniffed again. My face had grown deathly pale.

Seeming satisfied and somewhat distracted by our display, the cops ushered us behind them, out of the way, and we joined a huddle of students being herded back from the entrance.

I turned my face to Luca, blinking him into focus.

He was already looking at me, a frown rippling across that smooth composure. ‘How is it now?’ he asked. ‘I’ll ease up the pressure.’

‘I need to lie down.’

He pulled me tighter against him, so I was half leaning, half standing. ‘I’m taking you to the hospital. Vita will have a look at you there.’

‘No,’ I groaned, my head lolling against him. ‘Please, no hospitals.’

‘I’m not taking any chances, Soph.’

‘No outsiders.’

‘Vita is Paulie’s wife. She’s a doctor.’

‘No hospitals,’ I laboured. ‘Can’t you bring Vita to us? If the Marinos came to a school, I doubt they’ll have any moral hesitancies about barging into a hospital. You didn’t see Donata. She’s baying for blood. She’s a loose cannon now.’ I nearly flopped over from the effort of those few sentences.

Luca seemed to be considering it, because instead of arguing back, he went silent. He knew I was right. It was too dangerous, and my condition wasn’t serious enough to warrant the risk.

‘I’ll figure something out,’ he said at last, the words filtered through a sigh.

We hobbled further away from the crowds, but not far enough to stop Millie spotting us and making a beeline for us. Cris struggled to stay arm in arm with her; only Millie could sprint like that in heels.

‘Sophie!’ She tried to grab me by my arm.

‘Don’t!’ Luca pulled me backwards. ‘Don’t touch her.’

Millie dropped her hand as if I had burnt her. She narrowed her eyes at Luca, then at me. They widened, just a fraction, taking in my appearance. ‘What. The. Actual. Bloody. Hell. Is. Going. On?’

‘I don’t know,’ I said quickly. My eyes were telling a different story. Don’t talk about this in front of Cris. ‘It all happened so fast. I think the shooter’s still in there.’