Chapter Eight

Damon

“I said I’m fine. I’m not staying here.”

My busted lip and swollen jaw somewhat muffled my words, but I still got my point across. I’d been in the ER for hours already. I’d been poked, prodded, evaluated, scanned, X-rayed, and otherwise violated in every medical fashion I could imagine. If anything life-threatening were wrong with me, they would’ve found it by then. Since I was able to sit up on the hard gurney, going home only made sense to me.

But if Matteo saw how much it hurt to move any muscle in my body, he’d call Dad and I’d lose the argument before it even began. As long as I held my breath and didn’t flinch, I was certain I could convince him not to admit me.

“Damon. You look like you’ve gone twelve rounds with Mike Tyson while your hands were tied behind your back. Come on, man. You don’t want to miss what goes down next, I get it, but you really need to stay for a couple of days.” Matteo stared at me, refusing to be the one to back down.

“I’ll be fine. Jillian will take good care of me. Won’t you, doll?”

“No.” She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at me. “I thought they killed you, Damon. You need to look in a mirror, then you wouldn’t be so impatient to leave. There are cuts, bruises, sprains, and broken bones all over you.”

“Plus a concussion—from the grenade and from the beating you took afterward. This kind of shit doesn’t happen to just anyone, Damon.” Matteo shook his head, exasperated with me.

“I feel much better now. Finish patching me up and send me home, Doc.”

“Just so we’re clear, Damon, I am not agreeing to this. If you leave, you’ll be leaving against medical advice, not with my consent.”

“Understood. You’ve done enough for me. I’ll sign whatever you need me to sign so it covers your ass.”

“You’ll have a hard time signing anything with broken fingers.” Jillian gestured toward the cast on my right hand. My fiancée was sorely displeased with me.

“I’ll hold the pen with my teeth. It’ll be fine.” I winked at her and immediately regretted it.

She saw the bolt of pain run through me from the simple movement, and her mouth dropped open in shock and anger. The swelling around my eye rendered the X-rays inconclusive, but I couldn’t deny the area hurt enough to say my occipital bone was at least cracked. Though they didn’t know for sure, the ophthalmologist on call insisted we treat it as though it were broken. Extra precautions, extra medications, extra time to heal. All of that could be done at home, though.

“Are you always going to be this stubborn?” Both her eyes and the tone of her voice challenged me, daring me to give her anything but the truth. Any other time, her feisty, fiery side would’ve been a complete fucking turn-on.

“Yes, you know I will be, doll. Almost as much as you.”

“Jillian, come with me. I need to go over the medical protocol with you for each of his multiple injuries. If you see any of the warning signs, call an ambulance immediately. Don’t wait for Damon to agree. You hear me, cuz?”

“I hear you, Doc. If it comes to that, Jillian will have the final say. I won’t argue with her.”

“You have a significant concussion, Damon. You may not even realize you’re being combative with her if it gets to that point.” Matteo arched his eyebrow, asking me one last time to stay in the hospital. But I couldn’t. Bad timing was an understatement.

“We’ll stay at my parents’ house for a while so we’ll both have help. Send a home health nurse with me—a big, burly man if you think that’s best. I can’t stay here any longer, though.”

Understanding, despite his hesitancy, dawned in his eyes. I wasn’t only being stubborn, that time anyway. There were legitimate reasons that prevented me from kicking back in an uncomfortable hospital bed and watching TV all day while I waited to be discharged with a clean bill of health. Family business that was still unfinished. Business that couldn’t—wouldn’t—wait for a few days while I recuperated. With any luck, I’d have time to recover when all the craziness settled down.

“You wait here until I get home health care arranged. I won’t negotiate with you on that. If you force my hand, I’ll call Uncle Vin, and this argument will be over.”

“I’ll wait right here.” I had to learn to pick and choose my battles. That was one fight I’d gladly concede to Matteo. When he and Jillian left the room, I turned my attention to Mama. “How’s Carrie doing?”

“She says she’s okay, but I just don’t know. She’s still shaken, and they roughed her up some, but I suppose she’ll be all right. When Marco called, he said Lorenzo looks more like you—so they called a doctor to check him over. Maybe Leo’s goons used him as a punching bag to intimidate Carrie and make her talk. Or maybe they were just toying with both Carrie and Lorenzo while they waited for Vincenzo or you to show up. I don’t know.” She very seldom rambled like that.

Mama was usually a take-charge woman, doling out the assignments and barking out orders like a drill sergeant. The worry and apprehension that gripped her mind all day were manifesting outwardly, through the repeated wringing of her hands and scattered speech. There wouldn’t be many questions Leo would ask Carrie since he already knew everything there was to know about the business.

“Mama.” I waited for her eyes to meet mine. “Carrie is stronger than you know. I’m sure she was scared for a while, but she’s a fighter. She’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

“How could Vincenzo’s brother turn on him like this? I just don’t understand. They’ve had their differences, but they’ve been close for several years now.”

“I don’t know yet, Mama. But that’s what I intend to find out—as soon as I get out of here. Where did Dad take Leo?”

“They’re all still at Leo’s house. When Marco knew you were okay, he left here and went straight back over there. Paulie took Carrie and Lorenzo to my house.”

“Did Paulie stay there with them?”

“I’m not sure, but I would think so. Why do you ask?”

“Mama, I need my phone. Where is it?” When I moved with the intention to stand, she jumped up from her seat and stopped me.

“I’ll get it. Don’t try to get up. I’m afraid you’ll fall and injure yourself more.”

She grabbed the plastic bag containing my clothes and set it on the bed beside me. While she removed each piece of clothing, looking for my phone, I eased the hospital gown off and started dressing to leave, thankful they’d left my boxers on when I arrived. When I stood to pull my pants up, she shook her head disapprovingly but didn’t argue.

“Uh, Mama, your son needs a little help here.”

She put my shoes on the floor at my feet then faced me. When I gestured at the button on my jeans, she let out an amused chuckle. “You mean the Damon Marchetti is admitting he can’t do everything?”

“I can do most things. But I can’t button my pants with broken fingers in a cast.” Smiling hurt like fuck, but to show her I was okay, I lifted my lips on one side in a confident smirk.

“Sit down. I’ll help with your socks and shoes while you make your calls.” She handed my cell phone to me, and I gingerly took my seat back on the gurney.

I hit the button for Paulie and willed him to answer the phone immediately.

“Hey, Boss. I didn’t expect to hear from you. Everything okay?

“I’m okay, Paulie. Are you still at the house with Carrie and Lorenzo?”

“No, Carrie told me to go back and help make sure Vincenzo is safe. I’m at Leo’s with him. What’s going on, Boss?”

“I’m not sure, Paulie, but I have a bad feeling. Grab Luigi and a couple of the other experienced guys and get back to Carrie right now. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Tell Dad I said so, will ya?”

“You got it, Damon.”

We disconnected, and I had to consciously focus on not shaking my leg in my impatience. For one, the jarring motion wasn’t good for my condition. But more than that, I didn’t want to worry my mom unnecessarily. I had a gut feeling another surprise waited in the wings for us. I just wasn’t sure what it could be, and I didn’t want Carrie left unprotected again.

A nurse walked into my room to check on me and realized I’d turned off the machine taking my vitals. Had I physically been able to remove my IV, that also would’ve been out of my arm. But as it was, my button-down shirt was draped over my shoulders since my cast wouldn’t fit in the sleeve, and the IV was still stuck in my good arm.

“Mr. Marchetti, I know you’re ready to leave, but Dr. Falco is still making your home health care arrangements. As long as you’re a patient, I still have a job to do and that includes monitoring your vital signs until you sign your discharge papers. You have to wear the blood pressure cuff and the oxygen monitor while you’re in this room. And, with your head injury, you need to lie back on the gurney so you won’t fall on the floor if you suddenly become dizzy.”

“Is your last name Ratched, first name Nurse?” I quipped before obeying her direction. When I was settled against the raised back of the gurney, she hooked everything back up and turned on the machine.

“No, my last name is In-Charge, first name Head-Bitch. Don’t forget it.”

My consequent laugh really fucking hurt with my broken ribs, busted lip, and swollen face. But damn if I didn’t need it. She waited for the machine to finish the first cycle and seemed pleased with the results. Before she left the exam room, she checked on Mama, asking if she needed anything. Then she pointed two fingers at her eyes and flipped her hand around to point one finger at me.

Well played, HBIC. Well played.

She paused in the doorway and turned off the overhead light. “Try to get some rest while you’re waiting. You look like somebody beat you up.”

I had to give her credit. Her snarky comments lifted my spirits. When I received a text from Paulie that said he and the others were back at the house with Carrie and all was quiet, I finally allowed myself to rest. A few minutes later, Jillian came back into the room, but by then I struggled to keep my eyes open. The events of the day on top of the hours I’d spent in the emergency room definitely took a heavy toll on me. A toll I would’ve rather slept away than faced, but I still had too many unanswered questions.

The sting of Uncle Leo’s betrayal was very sharp, pricking my skin like knives. Someone had to make me understand how the fuck he could do this to his own family. As much as I hated what had happened, I knew Dad must have felt ten times worse. He must have been reeling from the conflict inside him—his brother versus his daughter and son. The penalty for that level of betrayal was definitely death, but I wondered if my dad would be able to carry out the sentence against his own brother.

“Okay, your home health care is all set, but I can’t get anyone out there until their office opens in a few hours. Jillian and Aunt Lina will have to be your nurses for what’s left of tonight. Your full-time care will be at your mom’s house as soon as possible this morning. I’ve covered every possible acute medical scenario I can with Jillian. If anything appears out of the ordinary, she’ll call the ambulance and have you transported back. Once you’re back in my ER, I’ll declare you as an altered mental status patient, and you won’t have any choice but to stay. We clear?”

“Loud and clear, Doc. I may even enjoy the vacation.” I rose from the gurney and settled into the wheelchair after the nurse removed all my external paraphernalia.

“Here, you can’t leave the hospital without a shirt. Take these scrubs. I cut the sleeve on the shirt so your cast will fit through it.” Jillian took the shirt from Matteo and helped me ease into it. “Remember what we talked about, Jillian. Call me if there’s anything I can do.”

With that, Matteo left the room, and Jillian signed my discharge papers. The nurse walked behind me, pushing my wheelchair while the three of us remained silent. Regardless of how that part of our story ended that night, our family would never be the same again. There forever would be an empty chair at the table along with an empty hole in our hearts where the man we thought we knew once resided.

“It’s been a long day and night. I’m so ready to go home.” Mama sat in the back seat with me while Jillian drove.

“We’ll drop you off and let you get some sleep, Mama. Jillian will take me on to Leo’s house so I can check in with Dad on what’s going on.”

“Damon, your father has everything under control. If he needed you, he would’ve called you by now.” Mama couldn’t help but worry; it was what she did. But I knew she was also worried about Dad because she hadn’t heard from him either.

“We won’t be long. Jillian needs her sleep too. We’ll be fine.”

No sooner had I gotten the words out, and my phone rang.

“Marco. Tell me.”

He gave me the rundown of everything that happened in my absence. Leo’s interrogation and obstinate behavior. Dad’s aggravation and increasing brutality. But he wanted answers, so he wouldn’t kill Leo until he had at least some of them. He’d torture him within an inch of his life, but Dad would make sure Leo held on just a little longer.

Then Marco began relaying one of their conversations, and his words left me speechless.

“Marco, don’t let your guard down. Jillian, step on it!”