The Italian Heartthrob: Forbidden Standalone

by N J Adel

  “Sir, she’s in the OR now with the best doctors in the hospital. We need to get you examined and cleaned up. There’s blood on you, and we need to make sure you’re not bleeding.” Hands and arms were helping him up now. He tried to block them. Push them away. He wanted them to stop touching him. “We’ll take care of you, sir.”

  They escorted him to a private room where a couple of doctors stood. The nurses got him out of his bloody sweater and shirt while the doctors kept asking him more questions, their latex gloves groping him.

  “Can anyone please tell me how she is? In English?” He didn’t understand half of the things the doctors in the ER told him.

  “Mr. Gennaro,” a male doctor started, “the doctors are operating on Ms. Dawson to get the bullet out and stop the bleeding. She’s lost a lot of blood, but they’re doing everything in their power to get her stabilized.” He moved a tiny flashlight in Mike’s face while a nurse took off his jeans. “Look here, please.”

  “I don’t need this shit. Is she gonna be all right or not?”

  “She’s in good hands, sir. Let us take care of the bruises on your leg and shoulders, please. Do you know how you got those?”

  “I kicked the door.” He shook his head. “I need to get back to her. I need to know what’s happening.” He slid off the bed. “Can I have my clothes back?”

  “In a minute, sir.”

  After they removed the blood, wrapped him in bandages, and dressed him in blue scrubs and a sweatshirt that had the hospital name and logo, the police came knocking at the door. “Mr. Gennaro, we need to ask you a few questions.”

  “Do you mind if we do it on the way?”

  “Not at all.” The two officers flanked him as he walked back to the area near the OR. “Can you tell us what happened?”

  The memory flash blinded him, piercing his chest. “She was…holding a gun to her head.” He swallowed. “I ran…” His hands trembled and tears welled up in his eyes.

  “Take your time, Mr. Gennaro.”

  “I pushed her hand and tried to take the gun, but she fought.” He sniffled. “She fought, and it went off through her chest.” Bowing his head, he cried. “She was bleeding in my arms. I called 911. They guided me through some first-aid instructions. Then the ambulance came and brought us here.”

  The officer finished writing his notes, gave Mike some comforting words, and left with his partner.

  Mike plopped down on the floor, breathing rapidly, his head wobbling with each breath as he stared at nothing. Minutes later, Nick arrived and dashed toward him.

  “What did the doctors say?” Nick rasped, his face pale and haggard.

  “They’re still operating.” Mike barely got the answer out before James and Samantha appeared down the hall.

  Mike sprang to his feet, rubbing his temple with the heel of his hand as the two managers told him they arranged for security and managed to get the press under control for now. However, the news was already out.

  He didn’t care about the press or the award or any other fucking thing but Maggie’s life.

  “Do you guys need anything? Coffee?” James asked.

  “No,” Mike said while Nick shook his head. “Nick, why don’t you sit down for a minute?”

  “What the hell do I want to sit down for?” Nick yelled. “Why don’t you go sit down or even get the hell out of here and leave us alone?”

  “I’m not leaving.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Okay. Let’s not lose our heads here,” James said, standing in front of Mike. “Can we just keep calm and focus on Maggie?”

  The four of them continued to stand, listening to the occasional rubber-heeled rustle of walking-by nurses, and their own breathing.

  Hours later, three doctors emerged from the OR. Mike remained on his feet in the midst of the mass of white clothing and bobbing faces, trying to understand why Maggie was still in danger and couldn’t be moved to a wardroom yet.

  “The bullet went through her lung, which led to severe hemorrhage. We were able to remove the bullet and repair the lung. We’ll keep her in the PACU where she’ll be closely monitored until she wakes up, then she’ll be transferred to the ICU.”

  “Can I see her? I’m her father.”

  Mike’s eyes flicked. “And I’m her fiancé.”

  Nick glared at him. “Not anymore.”

  “Gentlemen, you can’t fight in here,” one of the doctors said, swiftly ushering them to a waiting area outside the recovery room. “Ms. Dawson is not awake yet, but if you can manage to put your arguments aside for now, I can allow two minutes per visitor in the PACU.”

  “Yes, please let me see her,” Mike said before Nick could respond.

  “Direct family first, Mr. Gennaro.” The doctor motioned for a nurse to escort Nick to the recovery room.

  Mike took a deep breath. “Is she gonna be okay?”

  “She’s stable for now. The surgery was a success. We’ll keep a close eye on her for the next forty-eight hours and hope for the best.”

  Mike nodded, wincing. “Thank you.”

  “It could have been worse. A chest wound is much easier to heal than a gunshot to the head. You saved her life.” The doctor patted him on the shoulder and nodded his chin at the nurse escorting Nick back—his eyes were red around the rims as he sniffled. “Your turn,” the doctor said.

  Samantha took Nick’s arm and helped him to a chair while Mike struggled not to run into the recovery room.

  Maggie was on a ventilator and tubes were coming out of her chest. Her face was white. Morbid.

  He crumbled by her bedside, barely holding his tears. He held her hand gently, careful not to disturb the IV in her arm. “Can she hear me?”

  “No, sir,” the nurse replied.

  He sobbed and kissed Maggie’s palm. “Mi dispiace, cuore mio. Ti amo tanto, Carolina. I’m so sorry, amore. I love you more than anything,” he whispered anyway. Even if she couldn’t hear him, maybe she could sense that he was by her side. “You gotta live. You know that, right? You’re just starting, Kiddo. You can’t just leave.” He stared at her, scared out of his fucking mind that he might never see her smile or hear her voice again. “Please, don’t leave me. Not like this. Not like this, amore.” He broke down, unable to stop the tears.

  “Mr. Gennaro, I’m afraid I can’t let you stay any longer.”

  He nodded, kissing Maggie’s palm again. A painful sigh came out of his chest as he rose to his feet.

  Outside, the doctor advised him and Nick to rest and assured them they would be notified when she woke up.

  “Nick, it’s four a.m. you should get some rest. They already have a room for me. You can use it,” Mike said.

  “I’m not going anywhere.” He lifted his head from his hands. “Not anymore.”

  Scene 80

  Mike

  At eight in the morning, while Lahey, his publicist, discussed with him potential scenarios to tell the press, Mike watched through a window Maggie strapped to a bed in the ICU, her father by her side.

  “We can’t hide the suicide. It’s a gunshot, and there’s the police report and the bartender…”

  Her words fell on him unheard as he silently prayed for Maggie’s recovery. What would the world mean without her? What would he be without her? To the world, Mike Gennaro. Superstar. Heartthrob. Academy Award winner. To himself, a motherfucking prick. The guy who made the only girl he loved try to kill herself.

  As tears irritated his eyes, he saw in his peripheral vision a woman approaching. He looked in the direction of hesitant, clacking heels, and wrath consumed him.

  “You fucking bitch,” he snarled, clenching his teeth, lunging through the security guards.

  “Mike!” James’s arms surrounded him, pulling him back.

  Andrea froze while Mike kept cursing, shrugging out of James’s tight hold. She cried, her hands held up. “I just need to see her.”

  “Why? To gloat?”

  “I swear I didn’t know she’d do thi
s,” she whimpered.

  He growled, his breath hitching. “Fine.” He grabbed her arm, dragging her past the guards. “Come see what you did.” His hands gripped her shoulders, pushing her in front of the window “Look. This is your doing in there. This is what you did to your own daughter. There’s no one else to blame this time.”

  He felt the tremors running through her body. “How is it that you didn’t know? She did the same thing before and for the same fucking reason.”

  The tremors became shudders. “What are you talking about?”

  He shook his head in disbelief. “You didn’t even know she tried to commit suicide before?”

  “No,” she sobbed. “When?”

  “She saw…” A long beep from the ICU clipped his words. He stared as Nick was pushed away and a nurse took his place. His heart raced with the scurrying steps behind. Cold sweat trickled down his back as he saw doctors rush into the room.

  “What the hell is happening?” Mike asked when Nick came outside.

  “I don’t…” Nick’s face turned red, his eyes wide as they fell on Andrea’s face. “How dare you come here? I told you we never wanted to see you again. Get the hell out.”

  “Let me go, Mike,” she begged.

  “No. You watch.” His fingers bit into her shoulders, crushing them. “You fucking watch.”

  “No. Please let me leave.” Her voice became high and urgent, her breath coming in gasps, her eyes dilated, like a terrified child’s.

  The terror surging through him as he watched the unchanging, flat line on the monitor loosened his grip. He finally let go of Andrea, and she ran, her sobs echoing behind.

  No. No, amore. No. He pressed his hands together in a silent prayer.

  A few moments later, the beep became a rhythmic pulse, and the doctors told them Maggie was stable again. It was as if Maggie’s heart didn’t bear beating while that serpent was in the same place.

  Scene 81

  Maggie

  I didn’t know how long I’d slept. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that I woke up. Alive. Fuck. Not again.

  I had tubes in my mouth and nose, and I felt like I was choking. There was a voice talking to me. Seconds later, I realized it was the nurse’s. Then I slept again.

  Now, wide awake, I took a look around the room. The big tube in my mouth was gone, but my throat was sore. I had nose prongs, and needles stuck to my arms. I was naked and cold, covered only by a sheet, wires and tubes coming out of different areas around my chest. I tried to move but my arms and legs were strapped down. Looking to the side, I saw a number of machines and a nurse rising from a white chair.

  “Maggie, can you hear me? Don’t talk. Just nod,” the nurse said.

  I barely nodded. I was in so much pain I couldn’t tell what, or where, hurt the most.

  “You had lung surgery, and you’re in the ICU now,” the nurse continued, checking the monitors of the machines. “Are you in any pain?”

  I nodded again. For the next several hours, I drifted in and out of sleep. The nurses’ faces kept changing. I might have seen Dad’s face, too. And Mike’s.

  Eventually, I found myself awake with a doctor standing at the side of my bed holding a clipboard, a nurse, and a green curtain behind them. “How long have I been here?” I slurred painfully.

  “This is your second day in the ICU,” he replied, setting the clipboard aside and flashing a light in my eyes. “Look here, please.”

  “The fuckin’ restraints?”

  “There’re for your safety, Ms. Dawson. It’s common procedure.” He turned off the irritating flashlight. “Can you tell me your full name, age and marital status?”

  I rolled my eyes, or I tried. “Am I the only patient in the room?”

  “Yes. Can you please answer the questions?”

  “Why the curtain? Someone out there?”

  “There are many people outside waiting to see you. I didn’t think you would want them to see you like that. But I can open it, if you like.”

  “No.”

  “What’s your full name?”

  “Maggie Carolina Dawson. Almost twenty-six…single.” I tried to breathe to stop the tears, but I coughed in pain. “This hurts.”

  He grabbed his clipboard again. “It’s quite normal. Coughing is actually a good sign of recovery.”

  Great. Even my body is acting against my will.

  “There are no complications so far. The nurses would guide you through breathing exercises and help you with the pain.” He checked the monitors of the machines and scribbled something down. “You’ll be transferred to your room shortly, and someone from Psychiatry will see you as soon as possible.”

  I closed my eyes. “Is…Dad here?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can I see him…before the shrink?”

  “Sure.”

  When he opened the door, a commotion rose as the doctor announced my awakening. The bodyguards made way for Dad to pass, and he smiled.

  “Hey, baby,” he sang, his voice breaking. He was holding his tears. Mine, however, couldn’t be stopped.

  “Don’t cry, sweetie.” His hand touched mine below the straps. “I’m so sorry, baby.” He kissed my forehead. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Not your fault, Daddy.”

  His tears fell hot on my skin. “Yes, it is. I should have been there. I should have known. Should have protected you. I’m so sorry.”

  My lips twitched as I stared at the nurse lingering by the machines. “Can you give us a minute?”

  The nurse gave a shy smile, nodded, and walked out. I glanced at Dad. “Did she even… Has she come to see me?”

  He sat on the white chair, a grimace on his face. “She did.”

  Which means she’s not here now. I took a short breath and exhaled before it hurt. “Did she even stay long enough to know if I was gonna make it?”

  A faint smile crossed his mouth. “Baby, you don’t have to worry about Andrea anymore. We need to get you better now.”

  My lips pursed. “Is he here?”

  He gritted his teeth, nodding. “I tried to kick him out, but I couldn’t. After all, he’s the one who stopped you…”

  My fucking savior. I stared at the green curtain, the moment Mike fought me for the gun coming back to me. The last thing I remembered before I passed out was his arms. They were snug and constricting around me, and I clung to them like an idiot as I fell.

  “How did he even know?” I asked.

  “I’d forgotten some papers and went back to the office later that night to get them before my trip. Thank God for that.” He pressed his fist to his mouth, wincing. “And I found the letter. I don’t know what would have happened if I hadn’t…” He moaned. “I showed it to him, and he found you.”

  I closed my eyes, the tears at the corners of my mouth salty.

  “I can’t believe I was such a fool. Last time, you weren’t even scared of dying. All you cared about was not letting Andrea know. I should have noticed. How did I miss it?”

  Last time, you thought I was just a teen acting out. The pain in my chest increased. “What’s done is done, Daddy. Blame won’t fix anything.”

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t make you trust me enough to tell me the truth back then or come to me for help whenever you needed it. I know I let you down, but how could you do this to yourself again, Maggie? You promised me. You promised you would never hurt yourself again.”

  “I’ve made a lot of promises that I couldn’t keep.” The most important one was to never let Andrea ruin my life again, and now look at me.

  I tried to shift but I couldn’t move. “Can you ask them to take these goddamn cuffs off?”

  The door opened, and more nurses emerged from behind the guards and stepped inside. “I’m sorry, but we need to walk Ms. Dawson through some breathing exercises and move her a little to prevent clotting,” one of them said, while the others hovered around Dad to get him out.

  “Can you take these things off her?” He pointed at my ar
ms, his eyes reluctant.

  Can you be more convincing, Dad?

  “Just when we move her, but then we have to put them back on,” a nurse answered.

  I groaned. “Whatever. Just get me more pain killers.”

  Scene 82

  Mike

  Mike stood alone outside Maggie’s room. She left the ICU two days ago, yet not once had she agreed to see him. She saw everybody who came to visit her—even that Kyle cazzone—but refused to see him.

  He’d taken advantage of every chance to get a glimpse of her; he lingered by her room; he used his charm and money to convince the hospital staff to get her out of the psych ward—they can still put her on a suicide watch in a normal room, like a normal person—get him a room close to hers and tell him when they walked her down the halls.

  Most of the time Maggie wouldn’t make eye contact, but when she did, her face was like stone, hard and unyielding. He wasn’t sure what was going on in her head, but it wasn’t good as far as he was concerned.

  He looked at the flowers flanking the hallway. Huge arrangements her visitors had brought. Don’t they know she doesn’t even like flowers?

  One of the nurses walked by, throwing him a familiar pitiful glance. He’d been getting a lot of those lately. He was the poor man with the broken heart. No one knew—or believed—he was the villain here. The one who drove his girl to take her own life. A fucking murderer. He covered his eyes with his hand as a sigh trembled out of his chest.

  “She wants to see you.”

  Mike’s head jerked up, and he saw Nick coming out from her room, glaring. Instantly, Mike scampered to the door, but Nick stopped him midway.

  “I haven’t told her about Andrea. The psychiatrist said it’d be dangerous.”

  Mike bobbed his head and took a wide stride before Nick’s strong grip fell on his shoulder. “I won’t let you hurt her again. I won’t let anyone hurt her again. So tread carefully, Gennaro.”