Redemption (Vincent and Eve #3)

by Jessica Ruben

  Pulling out my phone, I turn on the flashlight and shine it directly on his face. There’s a gash from his eye down to his lip, still oozing.

  “What did they do to you?” His eyes are closed. I wish they’d open.

  Looking down to his hands, there’s just so much blood. His pinky is gone and bone protrudes. I gasp, unable to find a single word to explain this feeling. I want to throw my arms around him and scream—rally against fate, destiny, whatever!

  Still, he’s alive.

  I gather myself, knowing it’s time for action.

  “Don’t worry, baby. I’m getting you out of here.” I kiss his bloodied head before lifting my phone.

  Me: Basement. It’s bad. With Vincent.

  Slade: Find door now. I’m west.

  I shut my eyes for a brief second, refocusing. It must be on the other end of where I am.

  I stand up and run forward, leaving Vincent behind. Pulling open a door, I find a closet—full of guns and ammunition. Their arsenal. And left wide open? God. I turn my head around, sweat beading on my forehead. Sloppy or not, these men are dangerous and armed.

  “Where the hell is the door? How much time do I have before they come back down? What if Crow wakes up? I should have shot him twice...fuck!”

  Another door. I open it. Fresh night air pours in along with Slade.

  “Follow me.” I’m on autopilot. The door slams shut behind us with a clang.

  We’re back to Vincent. Slade drops to his haunches, deadlifting my life in his strong arms. We walk outside and straight into his black truck, where Vincent’s head is placed on my lap in the back seat. I barely notice that Janelle is in the front. She speaks, but I can’t hear her.

  “I’m here, now,” I tell Vincent, my tears dripping from my eyes onto his face. If I were in a fairytale, my tears, full of love and heartbreak, would shatter the spell. The water would drip from my eyes and onto his face and just like that, he’d be brought back to life. But this isn’t a fairytale. This is life in all its grittiness.

  “Vincent,” I start, my voice croaking. “I’m so sorry for leaving. I love you so much,” I hiccup, leaning forward and kissing his bloody head. “I can’t believe you were unarmed,” I quietly wale, remembering being happy at the fact he wasn’t carrying. How stupid was I? “I’m never leaving you again. Ever. Please stay with me. Please, baby.”

  He hasn’t budged—not once.

  I keep his hand on my bare thigh. For a moment I think he’s moving, but I realize his body is only shaking with the car’s movements. I pull him closer to me.

  We get to the hospital and it all moves in a rush. Vincent is taken away and I collapse into Janelle’s arms, the stress finally engulfing me.

  “He’s safe now, Eve. He’ll be all right. You did it.” Her soft arms keep me from falling. “Slade’s with you now. I’m gonna call a cab to take me back to the plane, okay? I’ll be back when I can.” She kisses my head before squeezing my hand three times and hands me off to Slade, crying her own tears.

  I burst into sobs as we make our way into the stark-white waiting room; the bright lights make me dizzy. Slade brings my small body close to him. I’m so cold. He nestles me tighter. At one point, I look up into his eyes. He’s so hard and complicated, but there’s something incredibly good about him, too. He’s so solid from the outside in. If I ever had a brother, it would have been nice to have one like this.

  Hours pass. My heart feels like it’s leaking. I finally notice Slade’s clothes are bloodied. Mine are, too. Vincent’s blood. Oh God. Slade tells me to wait a minute. He leaves me alone in the waiting room and returns with two sweatshirts, presumably from the gift shop, and hands one to me. Sliding it over my body, I shiver.

  A nurse shuffles out in a white uniform, asking for the family of Vincent Smith. Slade immediately gets up. I’m too dazed to ask any questions about Vincent’s alternate name. My anxiety of what will come of Vincent has me close to incapacitated, but I lean on Slade’s strength to pull me forward.

  The nurse takes us into a small and quiet waiting room when a doctor enters; he looks sixteen, give or take a few years. Is this a joke? Vincent’s life is in the hands of a... teenager? I blink hard, trying to cool myself down. Slade’s warm hand grabs mine in solidarity.

  “Who are you two?” the doctor asks, staring us down condescendingly as if he were the adult and we’re bad kids in need of punishment.

  My annoyance at this child-doctor has me vibrating. “Vincent is my brother,” I reply full of attitude, crossing my arms in front of my chest defensively. I will kick this kid’s ass! He stares at me skeptically, eyes zeroing in on my outfit. I look down at myself, noticing that I’m not in one of my tailored suits. I look like a hooker in a man’s sweatshirt. But so what? He should be giving me information, not judging me. I fume. What a fucking asshole! The heat of indignation continues to rise as Slade pulls me backward, slightly behind him.

  “We appreciate you helping Vincent, doctor. Can you tell us his status?” Slade’s voice is all business—exactly what we need. I exhale, letting him take the reins.

  “Either of you care to tell me why your brother is sliced up like a Thanksgiving turkey?”

  “We just found him like that,” Slade shrugs a shoulder, his huge muscles bunching beneath his shirt. He’s got black circles under his eyes and dark scruff lining his jaw. He looks highly threatening. I cringe, realizing that our current state coupled with Vincent’s situation doesn’t bode well. I’m sure the cops will come to investigate this eventually. I look up at the doctor as laughter starts to bubble up again in my throat. It’s all just too much. Slade gives my hand a squeeze which says: ‘you better not fucking laugh right now.’ I swallow it down obediently and drop my head to the white-tiled floor.

  “Well,” the doctor starts, lifting up his blue pen and clicking it twice. “Your brother’s pinky is severed. He has a deep knife wound down his face. His cheekbone is broken...”

  I stare at the doctor blankly. The entire scenario feels surreal. I can hear the words leaving his mouth, but nothing sinks in.

  “...we’ve put him on serious antibiotics to cure infections—knives can be extremely dirty. He’s also got broken ribs, a shattered kneecap, and of course, there’s the severe head trauma...”

  I step closer, trying to hear better—for some reason, his words sound muffled.

  “...we’ve put him in a coma in order to decrease the intracranial pressure.”

  I blink. Slade clears his throat. “And how long do you think it will be until you can remove him from the coma?” His dark brows furrowed together. “You will remove him, right?”

  “Well, that all depends. I’ll monitor the numbers and when it’s safe, I’ll turn off the sedation.”

  I find a large white circular clock on the wall. It’s five minutes after four in the morning.

  “A-are we talking hours? Days? Months?” Desperation has my voice cracking. The doctor may be a kid, but right now, he’s all I’ve got.

  “You never really know.” He shrugs his shoulders sadly. “Hopefully it won’t be more than a few days.”

  Slade and I turn to each other again before looking back at the doctor. “C-can we go see him?” I cower, embarrassment finally hitting me over my indecent state of dress. The sweatshirt hits my legs in such a way that it looks like I’m not wearing pants.

  “Sure,” the doctor replies. “He’s in 304.”

  “Is he in any pain?” My voice comes out crackled with intense emotion as I wrap my arms around my middle.

  “No. He’s not.” His voice is decisive.

  Slade and I take the elevator to the third floor. The hallway is cold, white, and completely sterile.

  We walk into the room. The man in the bed can’t be Vincent. It just can’t be. His head is bandaged. I can hear the heart monitor beeping. He’s technically alive, but he’s... gone.

  26

  EVE

  Three Days Later

  “Eve?” Lauren walks in
to the hospital room wearing tight denim jeans and a sexy, off-the-shoulder black T-shirt. A jumbo black Chanel purse is slung over a small shoulder as she pulls a black carry-on suitcase with a small duffle on top behind her. Parking everything in the room’s corner by the window, I realize she’s here—for me, and I burst into a set of fresh tears.

  She quickly moves to me and bends down, hugging me to her chest. “Babe, we gotta get you out of here. Showered. Changed. And food.” She’s whispering, as though she’s afraid to bother Vincent. I’d tell her that he won’t wake up no matter what, but the words won’t leave my lips. It’s too painful.

  “N-no.” I shake my head. “I c-can’t leave him.”

  “Yes, you can.” Pulling out a tissue from the small white cardboard box by Vincent’s bed, she hands one to me.

  “How did you know to come here?” I sniffle.

  “Janelle called—all shady, telling me not to let anyone know I was coming. She was so worried about you.” She places a hand on my back. Janelle and Lauren have never met, but after the hundredth time of calling my office and speaking to Lauren, they developed an easy friendship.

  She takes stock of my outfit and grimaces. I’m wearing a pair of black leggings, a loose yellow T-shirt, and a pair of black rubber flip-flops courtesy of Slade. After refusing to leave Vincent’s side, he stopped at Target and grabbed these clothes and even a toothbrush and face wash for me. Two days ago, the clothes were clean and I was physically back to a semi-normal state. Now, not so much. Adding insult to injury, I have leftover mascara under my eyes that won’t come off.

  “I went to your apartment and picked up what you need.” She points to the rolling suitcase.

  “Thank you,” my voice shakes. “I don’t even—” I pause, feeling an incredible amount of guilt. Lauren is better to me than I deserve. We’ve worked together for so long and I never gave her enough credit. Never let her into my life the way she deserved.

  “Shh,” she rubs my back. “Let me pull out clean clothes so you don’t have to leave here looking disheveled.” Unzipping the bag, she removes a pair of soft navy sweatpants, a fresh nude bra and underwear, and a white cotton T-shirt.

  “What did Janelle tell you?” I clutch the clothes to my chest.

  “Just that you and Vincent have a long past and he is seriously hurt in the hospital. Also, that you’re desperate for clothes and a shower.” She stares at my outfit and rumpled, disheveled appearance.

  “A-are you mad I didn’t tell you about him?” I swallow hard, my mouth feeling dry. I really don’t want her to be angry with me.

  “Don’t tell me you’re about to cry again? Ohmygod!” She shakes her head and rubs the beautiful solitaire diamond necklace she always wears around her neck. “Eve doesn’t cry. Eve is strong and makes shit happen. A true girl boss. And to answer you, no, I’m not mad. I know how weird it must have been having him as a client. And all you were dealing with, making sure none of the DBC wouldn’t catch on. I mean, if they knew about the two of you, they would have pounced. They’re disgusting.”

  Her understanding has me breaking down in another round of tears. We joked about the way they treated me, but both of us knew that none of it was actually funny.

  “I was horrible in that office,” I mutter, hiccupping. “I’m so sorry—”

  “Oh, please,” she waves a manicured hand in front of her face. “There was no other way to be. It was like a sanctioned cage fight. Now, go to the bathroom and clean up so we can get out of here for a little while and you can get some fresh air.”

  I have such a good friend in her. Still, I don’t think I’m ready to leave Vincent’s side. “I’m afraid to leave him alone. What if he needs me?”

  She looks at him sadly. “He’s under for now. The best thing you can do is take care of yourself. If you don’t, you won’t be well enough to care for him when he comes out of this.”

  I haven’t showered or eaten in days and the truth is, I feel on the verge of collapse.

  “Okay. Not for long, though.” My voice is full of hesitation.

  She tucks a long blonde hair behind her ear. “By the way, Jonathan is freaking out. His biggest client is quiet for days, and then you email him about a leave of absence yesterday?” She blows out a puff of air. “I didn’t tell him anything, though. Janelle swore me to silence.”

  “Jonathan can go screw himself.” I feel a combination of anger and anxiety. This morning I let him know via email that I had a family emergency and wouldn’t know how long I’d need. He replied, but I didn’t read it. “This leave will likely turn into my quitting.”

  Lauren’s eyes pop open in surprise before settling in understanding. “Honestly, I don’t blame you. You’ve been dealing with way more than you should. All that harassment. It’s seriously out of control the way they treat you in that godforsaken place. You’d think it was still 1987.” She shakes her head. “By the way, I emailed the Kids Learning Club for you before I got on the flight over.”

  “Oh shit, I totally forgot.” Guilt crashes through me that I didn’t contact them right away.

  “Don’t worry.” She rubs my arm. “They’ve got people filling in for you. Right now, it’s just about the hottie in the hospital bed.” She winks and I have to consciously stop myself from laughing out loud.

  Lauren takes a chocolate brownie protein bar from her purse and opens the foil wrapper before handing it to me. I slowly bring it to my mouth. Taking a bite, my stomach clenches. Nausea follows.

  I must make a face because she pulls the bar from my hand. “You’ll have to eat slowly. Actually, why don’t you clean up first?”

  I swallow, wondering how I manage to eat this garbage every morning. If I never ate another protein bar again, it wouldn’t be soon enough. Moving to Vincent, I bend my head to his left hand, kissing each of his fingers slowly, one at a time.

  “I’ll be back soon, okay baby?” I press his warm palm against my forehead before gently placing it back to his side.

  Making my way to the bathroom, I take off my dirty clothes and rinse my face and hands with soap and water. Sliding on my own fresh things, a horrible thought crosses my mind: Does changing mean I’m moving on or giving up on him? “No,” I tell myself out loud. “I’m only cleaning up. I’ll be back—soon.”

  “Let’s go, honey,” Lauren calls, hurrying me. On shaky legs, I step out of the bathroom and into the hallway. Two huge guys sitting in chairs by the door notice me and stand at attention. I suck in a breath of air, scared shitless that these guys are from the BB. Did they find me?

  “Hey Eve,” the bigger one starts gently, raising his arms as if surrendering. His navy spandex T-shirt highlights his muscles. “I’m Cole, and this is Ax. We’re friends of Slade.” With their military haircuts and serious demeanors, they’ve got armed forces written all over them. “Ax will accompany you wherever you need to go.”

  We all look up to see Slade marching down the wide hallway toward us. His back is straight, gait quick, and he walks with purpose.

  “Hello,” he turns to Lauren, faltering for a moment as he takes her hand in a friendly shake. “Slade,” he introduces himself, a redness creeping up his neck. “Janelle told me she asked you to come out.” He gives her a genuine smile.

  Her jaw slackens. “Y-yeah. No problem,” she stutters. “I love you. I mean—Eve. I love Eve!” She lets out a nervous giggle and I bite my cheek.

  “Good friends are important,” he replies calmly, ignoring her slip.

  “Eve, let’s talk a second before you go.” Slade moves back into Vincent’s room, waiting for me to follow.

  The moment I re-enter, I can’t help but look again at Vincent’s still body. My chest constricts.

  “Eve,” he states, bringing my attention back to him. “A lot has happened in the last few days. I didn’t want to bombard you so soon, but now that you’re leaving the hospital, you need to know.”

  “Um, okay,” I reply nervously.

  “Antonio found out that Vince
nt escaped the Boss Brotherhood alive. According to Tom, the moment Antonio heard, he ran out of New York City like a bat outta hell. Went rogue. The entire Borignone mafia is on hold right now—no one’s sure what’s going on.”

  My hands fly up to cover my mouth.

  “Crow was shot in the head yesterday.”

  “What?” I exclaim in shock.

  “Yes,” Slade moves his hands to his narrow waist. “It was Antonio, angry that Crow didn’t complete the job. He’s out for blood. And at this point, it’s no secret he blames you for Vincent leaving the family, and apparently, for everything else that’s gone wrong.”

  My heart pounds so hard, I can feel it in my throat.

  “Be thrilled that Crow is dead. Otherwise we would have had to worry about him finding out who you are or potentially coming after you.”

  “Well, what about the rest of the BB?”

  “Vincent was only a job to them. Their main focus right now is most likely avenging Crow’s death.”

  I want to feel relieved, but Antonio is the bigger threat. “D-does Antonio know Vincent is here? In this hospital?” My voice shakes.

  “Well, I don’t know just yet, which is why I want you protected.” He presses his mouth together tightly. “You’ve been so attached to Vincent, you never left to notice I’ve had his roomed guarded all this time.”

  I need to take a moment to think. Everything happened too quickly. I never took a second to consider anything other than Vincent. There will be massive repercussions. What kind of backlash could fall on me, or even Janelle back in New York? These gangs are known to intimidate family.

  He points to the door. “I’ve got one of my boys staying here to watch over Vincent and another to be with you, wherever you go. There’s a third, his name’s Gavin. He’ll be doing hospital nightshifts.”