Lucca crosses the room, fear overtaking his features as his gaze sweeps over my body. I struggle to move, trying to scoot away from him, but any type of movement makes the throbbing in my head worse.
With his powerful arms, he picks me up off the floor and holds me to his chest. I push with all my strength, trying to escape him, but I’m in too much pain. Too far gone to care what happens next. The coppery tang of blood is all I can smell as I breathe through my nose. Lucca peers down at me, his eyes liquid pools of amber.
“Call an… ambulance…” I croak, afraid that my father may be dead before they arrive.
“Everything is going to be okay. He’ll never hurt you again. I swear on it. No one will, not so long as I’m breathing,” he whispers, and I want to cry, but the tears aren’t there. I’m broken. The man I thought would never hurt me, that would save me from everything, just took my entire life and crushed it into a million pieces.
7
Lucca
My heart thunders as I bring the cell to my ear. I’m frazzled, looking between the road and Claire, who is lying back in the passenger side seat, rivulets of blood trickle down from her ear. I hope it’s not as bad as it fucking looks.
The only person that can help me is Julian. I’ll be indebted to him from this day forward, but wasn’t I already? After the third ring, he picks up. “I hope you’re calling to tell me that you got the job done.”
“The job is done. I’m calling about something else.”
“What do you need?” Julian might be a young boss, but he’s nothing less than powerful.
“I need a cleanup crew, and your assistance with the police.”
“What the fuck did you do?” He growls into the phone, and I know I need to clear this up before he gets some guys to start digging a shallow grave somewhere on his property.
“There was this young girl next door. Her father was beating her. He hurt her… bad, and I’m on my way to the hospital with her, but I know the moment I walk through those double doors, they’re going to call the police and start asking questions.” I pray that I don’t sound as weak as I feel.
There is a long pause, and I worry he might have ended the call. Claire groans in the passenger seat, and I press my foot against the gas pedal, willing the car to go faster.
“You should keep your nose out of other people’s business.”
I don’t want to beg, but I’m not above it. Claire is just a kid; she doesn’t deserve this. I’m close to breaking down when Julian speaks again.
“You’re a good worker and loyal to the family, so I will extend you a helping hand, just this once.”
It takes everything inside me not to audibly sigh.
“I’ll make some phone calls. They won’t give you hassle.”
“Thank you,” I say, my eyes darting to Claire. Her face seems even paler than it did a second ago.
“Don’t thank me yet. You don’t even know what I want in return.” I don’t get the chance to respond. The phone goes dead, and I pull it away from my ear and drop it into the cup holder. All my attention is back on Claire. I don’t care what I have to do for Julian, what hoops I have to jump through, or who I have to kill.
It’ll be worth it so long as Claire is taken care of and no one asks me any questions.
“Everything is going to be okay, butterfly. I’ve got you…” I tell her. I know the words I’ve just spoken are the truest I’ve ever said to anyone. I will take care of Claire.
As soon as we arrived at the hospital, they took her into a room to evaluate her, making me stay in the waiting room. Which is where remained for the past two hours.
I stare down at my hands, which are clasped together in my lap. Blood. So much blood. I can still hear her agonized screams, still feel the rage pulsing through my veins, the need to lash out so strong it controlled every thought and action. All I could think was to remove the problem, to hurt the person hurting her. I didn’t stop. Couldn’t. He deserved it anyway, and even if she hates me for killing her father, I did what was right.
Looking up, I peer around the waiting room, wishing I was back in the operating room with the doctors, making sure Claire is taken care of. Instead of sitting in this chair, waiting for a doctor to come to me.
My leg bounces up and down nervously until I shove out of the chair and march over to the front desk. I had to tell them Claire was my sister when I brought her in, or they wouldn’t have given me any information on her.
“Can you tell me if there are any updates on my sister?” I grit the words out as slowly as I can. I don’t want to cause a ruckus, but I need some answers before I explode.
“Claire, right?” she asks like she doesn’t already know.
“Yes.”
She makes a couple clicks on her computer and then looks up back at me. “There isn’t anything on my side to share. When the doctor is ready, he will come out and see you.”
I slam a closed fist against the counter, causing the woman to jump in her seat. “I want answers now. Is she okay?” I force myself to calm because if I don’t, I may rip this entire hospital apart piece by piece.
“I’ll… I’ll call back to surgery and ask…” The woman squeaks. I nod and drag myself back to the chair, slamming down into it.
I take my head into my hands. All I can think about is how she’s just a fucking kid, and now she has no one, I mean, she had shit before, but now she’s truly all alone. I knew the moment I brought her to the hospital, I would be the one to step up and ensure she was taken care of. Still, the mob isn’t any place for a child, and I’m not sure I’d be any better of a parent to her.
The thought of letting her go kills me, though.
“Mr. Torres,” someone greets, and I lift my head to find a doctor in a white coat standing in front of me.
I must’ve been so lost in thought that I didn’t hear him approach.
“Yes, that’s me.” My voice cracks. “Is she okay?” The beat of my heart drums in my ears, and my lungs burn as I hold my breath while awaiting his answer.
“The surgery went well. There was a small amount of internal bleeding that we stopped. Her right arm is broken. However, we managed to set it, so that’s good to go. Our main concern is the damage sustained to her eardrum.”
Panic claws at my insides. “What happened?” I barely withhold the growl threatening to pierce the air.
The doctor raises his hand in an I’m-not-the-enemy-here kind of way. “She suffered extensive damage to her inner ear. We fixed it as best as we could, but realistically, only time will tell if she’ll make a full recovery—”
I shove from the chair, all the emotions I’ve been keeping at bay rushing to the surface. “What are you saying? There’s a chance she won’t recover?”
“What I’m saying is that her eardrum might never heal, or it might not heal right. That means when she wakes up, she might be deaf or partially deaf. We won’t know until she is fully awake and can tell us.”
Deaf? She might be deaf? I could handle that. Handle anything as long as she isn’t dead.