by Leigh Kenzie
“I believe you need to get your house in order before you come after mine. As for giving you Emilio? Never. Going. To. Fucking. Happen.” I finish on a snarl and give a signal for them to be shown out. Brendan doesn’t try to argue, just shakes his head at me and gives one last look at Emilio. I bristle at it. The assumption that anyone else has a claim on my boy pisses me the fuck off.
“I don’t think we’ve seen the end of this, Boss,” Luca murmurs to me as I drop Emilio’s hand. Ignacio comes sweeping back inside and goes straight to Emilio, bumping shoulders with him. Whatever he says puts a smile back on my boy’s face. My inner circle is strong. The O’Connel Family can fuck off. If they need a reminder on who rules this city, I’ll give them a fucking reminder.
Chapter Twelve
As we walk into the church, I’m still turning over the conversation with Brendan in my mind. Being called his brother felt...wrong. That’s the only word I can think of that applies. First, Radcliff, and now Brendan. Biology fucking sucks. Yet, as the party ended, and people left, each one of the boys made sure to come up to me. Ignacio offered to just ‘get it fucking over with and kill the bastard’, Marcus gave me a shoulder bump, and even Antonio graced me with a nod. Luca almost didn’t let me go, shadowing me until Master called him off. Biology may consider Radcliff and me related and even Brendan and me. It’s fucking wrong, though. The brothers I claim are my true ones, they’re the other boys I stand with, the others given the same second chance at life that I’ve been given. Fuck anyone who believes biology is the be-all-end-all.
It has been a long time since I attended Midnight Mass. It was never a central part of my life. My mother always went and offered to take us, but I easily passed on her invitations. I wonder now what she may have prayed for during her time in church. I take comfort in the familiar rites, sinking into the known instead of being on edge like I’ve been all night. I barely listen to the sermon. I know my mom would have chided me and said nobody is ever too far removed from God. Yet, I look at the company I’m with, and I wonder why we’re allowed into the church even if it’s not their policy to turn someone away. It’s not like Master is going to repent. It’s not like the words the priest keeps saying are going to stop me from reaching for vengeance.
When Mass finally ends, we walk his aunt and uncle to their vehicle where their driver is waiting. I’m surprised it’s easy for them to hide the illegal activities at their home when they make no secret of their relationship with Master. After tonight, it’s clear that most of the town is in his pocket. I wonder how the Irish mob still survives. I know not to ask questions. I may be his boy, but I’m not to the level yet where I can ask—if I’m ever at that point.
We walk back to our own limo but don’t enter it immediately. Master’s aunt was tired after Mass, so he agreed to hold the family portion of celebration until later on Christmas. None of the boys have a family, but all of them have jobs. His ruthless and extracting dictatorship means he must arrange the schedules of them all. I’m barely paying attention as I stand next to Master. Luca is next to me while Marcus, Antonio, and Ignacio are arranged at his other side. By the time he’s wrapping up his demands, the parking lot is empty.
I tilt my head to look at the swirl of the falling snow in the parking lights. As I put my head back down, I gaze out across the lot, not interested in the conversation. It’s purely by chance that I see it. There’s movement along the side of the church building. One of the few bonding experiences I had with Radcliff included target practice and some hunting before I shut that part down. It’s why when I see the way the person moves and the light glint off metal, I know what is about to happen.
My body reacts instinctively. I give a shout and push Master out of the way. The chaos around me fades to the back of my mind. I feel a blaze of heat, an impact, and a wave of pain as I land on Master. I try to move, to get to a safer location, but there’s a crushing feeling, stealing my breath and then...all is lost.
Chapter Thirteen
“Fuck!” I yell. I watch as my boy bleeds, and I can do nothing until it’s safe to move. Even getting onto my hands and knees would make me too much of a target. Marcus and Ignacio were close to the front of the limo and managed to dive around it for cover. I hear the sound of gunfire and can make out Ignacio running through the parking lot while Marcus covers him. I slam my hand against the cement, waiting for the all-clear as I watch the dark blood pool around Emilio’s left side. I can’t tell if it hit anything important from where I’m at or if the dark color is only from it being night. I hope, when I get to hold him, the blood isn’t bright red, indicating an artery has been hit. It feels like forever before I hear the all-clear from Ignacio. I don’t bother standing completely but crawl on my hands and knees over to Emilio.
I take my suit jacket off, using it to put pressure on the wound on his left shoulder. I still can’t fucking tell if it hit an artery or nerves. The other boys come to me, and we manage to load him in the limo. The driver is shaking but responds to the gun Marcus points at his head when it took him too long to start the fucking vehicle. I try to keep my boy conscious. He gives the occasional unintelligible response, but five minutes out from the mansion, he stops answering.
“Fuck! Why aren’t we there yet? I swear to God if he dies, I will kill you and your entire family!” I swear at the driver who swerves a bit but recovers quickly. Luca is helping me keep pressure on the wound, alternatively cursing and praying. I have no clue what the other boys are doing, but I don’t give a shit.
The moment the driver slows I want to jump out, but Luca squeezes my knee, reminding me we have to be careful of Emilio’s injuries. We manage to bring him into the mansion, to a room that’s seen too much blood but is set up as a mini hospital.
Once we set him down, I hear a commotion going on in the hallway. Ignacio takes my spot, although I’m reluctant to let go. The blood drips from my hands as I storm out.
“Whatever damage he’s inflicted on the kid isn’t my problem! It can wait until tomorrow! It’s Christmas, and I’m supposed to be with family. Threatening them is losing value if I can’t spend any time with them,” the doctor growls at the guard dragging him along. I take off towards the doctor and grab him by his shirt, slamming him into the wall. I don’t pay attention to the expensive painting right next to him. I don’t care if it’s broken as it shakes in response to how hard I throw Dr. Conti against the wall. He’s lying to me, trying to make me think he doesn’t care about my threats.
“My boy is bleeding in that fucking room! He was shot and not by me. You get your fucking ass in there, and you’d better save him. You haven’t seen torture yet. Fuck this up, and I’ll kill everyone you care about, I’ll take them apart piece by piece, and make you fucking eat them, and then I’ll let you go insane with the guilt before I allow you leave this world.”
At my words the doctor goes immobile, his jaw opens, and I force him along, not even caring he isn’t walking right. I get him through the door, and he immediately recovers, looking around to see all the equipment. My staff already laid everything out, one of the boys must have called en route.
“Get him out of here so I can fix Emilio,” the doctor snaps at Luca as he starts putting on gloves. “Whoever is the steadiest, stay here so I can have help. I don’t need the rest of you breathing down my neck.”
Luca drags me out, Marcus and Antonio following. Somehow, it pierces my thoughts that Ignacio is in with my boy. I’m pissed at being told to leave, despite not being shocked. Out of all the boys, he’s the one who can best shut his feelings down, even if he is close to Emilio. Fuck knows I’ve trained him that way.
Chapter Fourteen
“I want to know who the fuck shot at us,” I snarl at Luca, grabbing him roughly. I should probably feel bad for Luca wincing from the grip I have on him, but I can’t. Turns out I do have a fucking heart because it’s killing me to know that Emilio is in that room fighting for his life.
“Had to be the Irish, Boss,” Marcu
s says quietly as he looks at me warily. He’s smart being cautious. If they thought I was the fucking lion of this town before, they haven’t seen anything yet. Nobody will be safe if Emilio dies. Fuck, they’ll be lucky to escape even if he lives.
“Boss...Master,” Luca clears his throat, and it forces me to stop my pacing. I whirl at him and glare, daring him to fucking speak.
“You know who the target was right?” he continues, not stepping forward from the wall he’s leaning on to give me maximum space.
“Fuck!” I shout as I run my fingers through my hair, pulling at it, looking for some fucking relief. I’ll be lucky if I don’t end up completely grey after this shit.
“If Lio survives, it’s because he assumed it was you instead of him,” Antonio said flatly, like it didn’t matter that Emilio was in the other room fighting for his life.
“Then you owe him a fucking debt for taking care of your Master,” I growl. “Get the fuck out of here if you don’t give a shit. I’m tired of this issue you have with him.”
Marcus and Luca both look at Antonio with a grimace. They know he’s lucky to be alive at the moment. If anyone else were to say that, they’d be dead already. I’m still contemplating it, even with him being a boy, when he bows lowly to me and apologizes. I don’t even acknowledge it. Either he falls in line or I’ll make sure he regrets it before killing him.
“I’m not sold that it’s the Irish. Or if so, I don’t think it was Brendan’s doing. He’s too serious about Christmas being a time of truce. It could be someone else in the organization, maybe his brother Eamon. I’m sure Eamon doesn’t want another brother. And for fuck’s sake, they have an issue with Emilio being my boy. Asses. Could be them.”
“Could it also be a friend of Emilio’s brother? Especially since Cliff has disappeared, or it could even be someone else wanting to hurt you by going after a boy,” Antonio says carefully. He’s trying to make up for his fuck up, but I can’t disagree.
“As soon as we find out, war will be a fucking understatement,” I respond grimly, making sure to look at each one of the boys. Their acknowledgment and unity calms me a tiny bit, but not enough. No, until I know Emilio will survive, there are more pieces of me than not. It’s stealing my breath, pushing the fury higher as I think of him on the table. Knowing he tried to protect me…Emilio truly is my boy.
“You can either wait here to find out what happens with Emilio or get the fuck out of my sight and start running down whoever did this.” Luca, Antonio, and Marcus need to make a fucking decision. I sigh as I pinch the bridge of my nose, slightly fresh blood marking it. It hasn’t dried completely. Now I know I’m really fucked up by the situation. Since when do I give an option? Since this boy came into my life, and into my boys’ lives I’ve started to change.
The only person who has stayed apart is Antonio. Marcus, Luca, and Ignacio all have embraced Emilio and care about him. I encouraged that, hoping the bond would deepen enough to make them harmonious. From the look in their eyes, I underestimated just how much those three care for him. The shitty part is that I didn’t realize I was beginning to care, too.
Luca slides closer to me, touching my shoulder. I don’t throw it off, although I’m tempted. I know his decision. He’s going to stay right here for me. For Emilio.
“We’re going to run this down. I don’t want to miss the shooter’s trail completely,” Marcus responds in frustration after flicking his eyes at Antonio. I nod my head in dismissal. I know Luca will update them when we have answers, and that doctor better give me fucking answers soon.
Chapter Fifteen
“Come on, Boss, you need to clean up a bit. We don’t know how long the doctor will take, and I’m sure you don’t want blood all over when you see your boy,” Luca murmurs to me as I lean against the wall tiredly, worn out from my pacing. I shake my head again, refusing to leave. My eyes are frozen on the door leading to where Emilio is at. I hear Luca walk away, but I don’t bother to call him back.
“Here.” I jolt as I notice Luca in front of me. I didn’t even hear him come back I was so lost in thought. He has a basin filled with hot soapy water and a bottle of water that he must expect me to rinse the soap and blood off with. I scowl at him, not sure why this matters right now.
“You don’t want to cause any contamination issues or scare him, right?” Luca asks calmly as he sets the basin and bottle down, helping me out of the blood-splattered clothes I’ve been wearing. It’s only then that I note he’s changed clothes and his hair is still wet. Part of me is angry that he took time away when Emilio is lying in there being operated on, but the other part is so damn weary. I let him grab my hands and wash them, not even caring that the hot water doesn’t seem to touch the coldness I feel, and the dread in my gut that increases every moment that passes with no word. He wipes my face where I managed to spread the blood and attempts to scrub my hair, but that’s probably impossible now. I scowl when he tries to dress me in clothes he had brought as well. I grab the sweater and slacks, quickly dressing and leaving him to take care of everything else.
I watch as the doctor comes out of the room, and I can see the fear that flares in his eyes when he looks at me. I swear to fucking God I will kill him if he doesn’t start talking. Now.
“Dr. Conti, what’s the news?” Luca blocks me from sight a bit, and I can hear the doctor exhale in relief.
“He was lucky. It was through and through and didn’t hit any nerves, bone, or arteries. Despite not hitting an artery, he did lose a lot of blood and needed a transfusion. I’m not sure why you have blood on hand for that, and I don’t want to know how you collect it, but it saved his life,” the doctor responds grimly.
“He’ll be fine, then?” I ask, stepping away from Luca now that I can breathe easier.
“Well, he’ll need to be monitored closely. I want him watched around the clock for at least four days, probably closer to six depending on how he heals. The skin wound on his shoulder should heal within ten days. It’s bandaged, another reason I want him monitored.”
“Aside from needing monitoring, you expect him to make a full recovery, correct?” Luca says gently as he presses a hand against me to keep from snapping at the doctor.
“Yes…and no,” the doctor responds with a cringe, not even trying to meet my eyes. “He can recover physically. He’ll need some physical therapy to help with the muscles, but nothing should prevent a full physical recovery. Emotionally though? You have to understand. It’s not uncommon to have nightmares, flashbacks, fear, etc. That can last a lifetime.”
“How long?” I growl as I push Luca away, stalking up to the doctor. The smell hits me, it’s that sickly sweet hospital smell, even though it’s in my own fucking house. I want to recoil away from it, but I won’t. I refuse to back off from the doctor’s space, enjoying his cowering.
“It typically takes three months to a year for physical recovery,” the man squeaks, stepping back into the wall to gain a few precious inches between us.
“Luca will make arrangements for a guest suite for you in this hall. I want you here full time. Write down two—no, three names. I want them in an hour. Two nurses, one other doctor. I want around the clock care for him, and it had better be the best names you know,” I growl, daring him with my eyes to disagree. I can see he wants to, that he doesn’t want to put anyone else at risk. I also don’t give a fuck. Emilio will recover, and he’ll have the best care possible while he does it.
“Of course,” he says weakly. “Did you want to go see him? I’d like to get him moved to a room for now.”
I glance over at Luca who immediately calls on a couple of servants. It doesn’t take much to transfer Emilio to a hospital bed and put him in one of the rooms we use for this purpose. I can see the doctor has questions, but I know they’re not ones he wants the answers to—at least for now. After a few murmured words to me, confirming what occurred in the surgery essentially, Ignacio takes his leave. I could see how drained he was, yet he made sure to watch careful
ly as Emilio was put into his new room. Temporary, I remind myself, this is temporary. I dismiss the doctor and Luca, knowing they both need some rest. Luca resists at first, brushing his lips across Emilio’s forehead and then giving me a small kiss. Normally, I’d punish him for taking such liberties, but right now all I want to do is sit here with my boy. With a small nod, he leaves the room. I know Luca will start taking care of the rest of the things, like making sure the doctor gives us those names and finding any dirt on them. It’s the reason he’s a good second in command. My body is tense from wanting to go help, but my mind wants to stay here a moment.
Emilio hasn’t fully come out of being under yet. I sit and watch the monitors, drawing strength from the beating of his heart. I’m not sure how long I’m waiting before his eyes flutter open. Those green eyes, that are often so bright, are hazy. The shade reminds me of falling into the forest, all different contrasts and darkness to it. I reach my hand out and gently touch his cheek. He looks at me in shock before giving me a wobbly smile. He stays quiet, somehow remembering the rules even if he’s drugged. I grab some ice chips from what one of the servants brought and offer him a few. He takes it carefully with a grateful moan. Fuck. He’s hurt, and my cock wants to take note now?
“Gave us a scare there,” I say as I continue to feed him ice chips, “but you’re all set. Dr. Conti did an excellent job. There’s no permanent damage to your shoulder, except maybe a scar, and you should recover quickly and fully.”
I don’t know how much he’s following my words. When I describe what Dr. Conti did or mention the other boys, he doesn’t give much indication he cares. However, he watches me intently. He takes the ice chips but doesn’t say a word.