Trapped in his End Game (Series)

2-36



ADRIANA

It’s thirteen years ago and I’m kneeling beside my dad as a growing pool of blood spreads underneath him.

“No, please. Wake up, wake up!”

Vince-my dad, lays still. His mouth moves soundlessly, his eyes still closed. Tears from my face splash on his cheeks, and he flinches.

Save him. Get to the phone.

I stumble over his legs in a panic to rip the phone from the wall. I dial the numbers and wait until a voice clicks.

“9-1-1 what’s your emerg-”

“He’s been shot,” I yell into the phone. “Twice. Please, get here quickly.”

“What’s your address?”

I scream into the phone. “I don’t know!” I just want to scream at the pointlessness of it all. No matter what I do, someone I love gets hurt.

“Ma’am calm down. Look for some mail and tell me the address.”

“For mail?” I ask stupidly, not comprehending.

“There may be an address on an envelope-”

I look around wildly, searching for something, anything while Vincent dies on the floor.

Fuck, he’s dying. He’s going to die unless I do something!

Mail!

There are envelopes sitting on the kitchen counter and I dive for them, reading the address to her.

“Please stay on the line. They’re coming.”

I drop the phone so that it hangs from the wall and I return to Vince. I rip open his jacket and bunch his shirt over the gunshot wound in his chest, trying to stem the flow. His face screws up in pain and a small breath shudders from his lips.

“Vince, Vince. Stay with me.”

The door slams open, scaring the shit out of me. I think of Carmine, who must be coming back to kill us, but instead paramedics rush inside the dingy, dark apartment with a stretcher.

I stand aside as they work quickly, padding his wounds and lifting him onto the stretcher. I follow it out the door and climb into the ER vehicle with them. I sit down near his feet as they cut away his clothes. Every moan he makes, every painful groan cuts me right down to my soul. The pressure inside my throat builds up and I keep swallowing my tears down, refusing to lose it. The only reason I don’t is because I’ve got it in my head that he needs me to be calm. I grab hold of his leg and squeeze him, feeling his warmth behind the thin fabric.

There’s no way in hell that Vince will succumb to this. He’s always been so strong. Impenetrable. Seeing him laid out like this turns my world upside down.

“Is he going to be okay?”

They ignore me. The paramedic slips on a stethoscope and rattles off his blood pressure. Another inserts a line into his arm.

The next few minutes are spent in agonizing silence, punctuated occasionally by Vincent, whose painful moans make me ball my hands into fists.

“It’s going to be okay, Vince,” I keep repeating. “It’ll be okay!”

The van screeches to a halt and I move aside as the doors fly open. They whisk him away and I climb down, following them as my heart beats in my throat. I jog near his head and try to hold his hand. His bare chest looks pale under the harsh lights of the hospital, the bright red blood swathing his side like a stroke of a giant paintbrush.

Tears choke my throat. “Vince. Vince, it’ll be okay. It’ll be all right!”

Please be all right.

The paramedic stops me from following them further when we go inside. “Ma’am, you’re going to have to stay here. He needs surgery.”

“Oh, God.” I cup my mouth and watch hopelessly as they disappear behind the double doors.

“The doctor will update you.”

He places a warm hand on my shoulder as tears finally flood over my cheeks. I wipe my face and notice that there’s blood all over my hands.

* * *

The hospital waiting room is so bright that I can barely keep my eyes open. It’s as if they’re designed to be as uncomfortable as possible while you agonize about your loved one.

It keeps playing over and over in my mind.

The vicious look on Carmine’s face when he raises his gun at me. Blue eyes narrowed in jealousy. He wanted me and Vince dead. I sit up straight and look around, suddenly fearful, but the room is deserted except for two other people.

A young couple sits across the room. He pulls her onto his lap and they kiss passionately, as if they’re in a private room. They look content just to be in each other’s arms. Like they don’t need anything else. He saved me.

He threw himself over my body to catch the bullet that was meant for me.

Now, he might be dying.

“Hey, Adriana.”

A familiar voice makes me lift my head. A short, Italian man stands in front of me, looking aghast.

“Nicky.”

I stand up and he gives me a fierce hug. The pain from everything boils over and sobs shake from my chest. Behind him, I see Jack, Paulie and the rest of Vince’s crew, standing at a respectable distance.

“Vince is in surgery right now.”

Hours ago, I watched as they wheeled Vince’s body into emergency surgery. One bullet hit his shoulder; the other sank into his chest.

Nicky squeezes me. “Vince is a tough guy. He’ll be all right.”

“You have to find Carmine,” I beg him. “He’s going to come after us again.”

“We will.”

A surge of hatred rises in my chest. “Please tell me that you’ll make him suffer.”

I almost forgot that the piece of shit murdered Dad. He had the balls to come into my life, when he knew the entire time who I was and what he’d done to my family. For years I wondered what my life would’ve been like if Dad lived. He might’ve curbed my mother’s behavior and maybe I wouldn’t be a fucking alcoholic. Maybe I wouldn’t have panic attacks or nightmares.

Fuck him.

Vince was the one who helped me through it all. A fresh wave of tears spills over my cheeks as I draw breath sharply. He saved me, but I couldn’t save him.

“We’ll try,” he says softly, patting my back. “Listen, the cops will be here soon. You can’t tell them anything.”

“I-I won’t.”

He pulls back and gives me a small smile, and then Jack joins us. For the first time since I met him, he looks shaken.

“I wish he told us where he was headed. We could have backed him up.”

“Don’t blame yourself. Carmine kidnapped me from his house. I think when he saw that I wasn’t there, he went straight to Carmine’s house and-” my chest tightens and I can’t continue. “Please find him.”

“We will, hon. I’m sorry this happened to you. I’m sorry about everything.”

He slides an arm around my shoulder and squeezes me.

A pair of cops enter the waiting room and make a beeline towards us. Jack tenses at my side and I inhale deeply, preparing to fend off their questions.

“Adriana Baldino? We’d like to ask you some questions, if you don’t mind.”

A police officer with a concerned look on his face addresses me and I nod at him. Nicky, Paulie, and all the others watch me carefully.

“We know that you made the 9-1-1 call from 3654 Monument Boulevard, and there were reports of shots being fired in the household. We wanted to get your witness statement.”

“A man came in the house and shot me and Vincent. I don’t know what he looks like.”

“Ma’am,” he begins impatiently. “We need more information. Do you know the whereabouts of Carmine Lucchesi? Was he the shooter?”

I blink at him and shrug my shoulders. His gaze slides to Jack instead and pulls photographs from inside his jacket. The photographs clearly show Carmine entering a restaurant.

“Do you know this man? Do you know where he is?”

Jack smiles and shrugs his shoulders.

The officer gives us all an extremely frustrated look. “Don’t you want to help your friend? We’re trying to find the man who did this.”

But after a few minutes of silence, he stuffs the photographs back under his arm and turns around to leave.

“They’ll be back, Ade. No matter what, keep your mouth shut. This is for Vince’s sake, too.”

We all turn around when we see a man in a white coat and blue scrubs leave the double doors and approach us.

Oh my fucking God he’s coming towards us.

I search his face desperately for any hint of an emotion. Does he look sad? Wary? Happy? The doctor’s face is decidedly neutral.

“Are you Adriana Baldino?”

I hold my breath, as if anything I say might blow him away. “Yes.”

“Vincent is out of surgery and he’s in stable condition. Both bullets missed vital organs and I don’t expect there to be any nerve damage to his arm. He’s a very, very lucky man. There’s still a risk for infection, so he’ll need to be on antibiotics for a while.”

Jack squeezes my shoulder. “Thanks, doc.”

I can’t speak. I feel far away.

“You can visit him in a little bit. The nurse will let you know.”

He smiles at us and walks away, and I’m left reeling.

“Did you hear that? He’s going to be fine!” He shakes my shoulder.

He’s going to be fine.

I heard, but I don’t really believe it. Tension loosens from my shoulders and I slump in Jack’s arms, suddenly exhausted.

We follow the nurse into the room half an hour later, with me fighting the urge not to sprint ahead of her. I have to see that he’s all right. Will he hate me for all the shit I’ve dragged him into?

The moment I see his dark head propped on pillows, his eyes alert and awake, I burst into tears. The weight of the last few hours was unbearable, and keeping my emotions firmly stamped down was even harder. He smiles at me from the bed and I take a seat near his head, looking at all the tubes attached to him. His right hand holds a button to the morphine drip, which he periodically clicks on. A glaze covers both of his eyes. He looks exhausted, but fine.

He really is fine.

“Hey,” he croaks out.

“I was so worried.” I take his hand in mine and tears slip down my face when he smiles at me. The broad, confident smile I’m so used to is weakened somewhat, but it’s still him. He’s unbreakable.

“I told you not to worry about me,” he says in a slightly slurred voice. “Fuck, this shit is so good.”

Jack approaches the bed. “Hey, tough guy.”

Vince’s eyes fly open again. “Jack, Carmine is still out there. You can’t let her leave.”

I rub his bare arm. “I won’t. I’m staying here with you.”

“We’re on it, Vince. You just rest.”

He fights to keep his eyes open. “I won’t rest until he’s dead.”

* * *

Fingers play with my hair, smoothing the strands over my face. It tickles and I smile. Opening my eyes, I see Vincent wide-awake on the hospital bed, the glaze gone from his eyes. Brilliant sunshine streams in through the blinds.

“Kiss me.”

He speaks with that same undeniable authority that he had the moment I met him. His eyes blaze as I lean over the bed carefully and give him a quick peck on his lips. When I pull away, his eyebrows are furrowed.

“What was that?”

“Vince, you were just shot. I don’t want to hurt you.”

His arm lifts to my face and sweeps around my head, and then he pulls me closer so that his lips crush against mine. His feverish lips kiss me over and over until I feel lightheaded, and when he lets go it’s only because he needs to breathe.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better.” A smile twitches on my face.

“I just want to get out of here. I hate hospitals.”

“The doctor might discharge you tonight. I don’t know how, but you didn’t get any nerve or bone damage. It’s a miracle.”

For some reason, at the sound of my words his face falls. He looks depressed. What did I say?

He speaks slowly. “It’s a miracle you aren’t dead. He got you in my own house. In my own fucking house. I don’t think I can ever forgive myself.”

Those passionate, wide eyes that I love so much are wet. He closes his eyes as if in pain.

I take his head in my hand and I stroke his hair. “You saved me. If it weren’t for you, who knows what would’ve happened to me.”

“If I wasn’t in your life, you wouldn’t have gone through any of this shit. I feel so fucking guilty for everything that’s happened to you.”

I squeeze his hand hard. “Vince, I wasn’t happy before you. I had no one who cared about me. Now I have you, and yes, it hasn’t been a quiet ride, but at least we have each other. Because of you, I know who murdered my dad. That means so much to me.”

My voice is thick with tears. His eyes flare open and his hand suddenly clenches over mine.

“I don’t feel good about it. He’s out there biding his fucking time, and we’re sitting ducks in here.”

“Vince, he can’t get us in a hospital.”NôvelD(ram)a.ôrg owns this content.

“Are you basing that on the fact that he has a normal, healthy brain? He’s a fucking lunatic who was obsessed with your mother, and now he’s obsessed with you.”

His frustration at being confined in a bed couldn’t be more evident. He struggles to sit up and I help him press the button to lift his bed.

I can’t pretend that Vince’s warnings don’t scare the shit out of me, but I’m trying to put on a brave face for him. A soft knock at the door makes us both tense.

The door opens, admitting Jack who has a look on his face that makes my stomach drop.

“Vince, I’ve some news. Ade, do you mind waiting outside?”

“I’m not letting her out of my goddamn sight until that psycho is dead. You can say whatever you need to say in front of her.”

Vince glowers at both of us, daring us to object. If it keeps him calm, I’ll stay.

“Fine,” Jack says impatiently. He tightens his jacket around himself and sits down next to me. “They found Tony and his capos shot to death in his restaurant. Someone went on a fucking rampage.”

His eyes widen. “Jesus. When?”

“It happened last night. Security footage captured a guy walking in there and out several minutes later.”

“It has to be Carmine, right?”

Vince suddenly laughs. “I can’t believe he managed that by himself.” A smile spreads on his face. “Hey, this is great news.”

Jack shakes his head. “I’m not so sure, Vinny. The soldiers in Rizzo’s family are scrambling to elect leadership while other families poach their territory. I’m glad that asshole is gone, but the war in Jersey could spill on our turf if we aren’t careful.”

“Who the fuck cares? The Rizzos are finished, that’s what matters.”

“Not if Carmine decides he wants to be boss. He has a lot of loyal soldiers after what happened yesterday. They’re scared shitless of him.”

“Yeah, I’d like to see him become boss with half of New Jersey’s police force after him. He probably whacked that cop, stupid fuck.” Vince rubs his chin thoughtfully and then he grabs the railings of his bed, almost as if he wants to lift himself out. “I can’t just fucking sit here when that psycho could be anywhere.”

“There’s nothing you can do. I have everyone on the streets cracking heads to find out where the bastard is. No one has seen him.”

“Fuck.”

The blood roars in my ears as I listen to their frank conversation. Neither of them has ever talked so openly in front of me. I stand up and move to the window, looking down into the streets below us as if I might spot Carmine leaning against a wall.

“So, how are you feeling?”

“Good, good…”

The conversation dissolves into a discussion about Vince’s health and when he’ll be on his feet again. Then the door flies open and Vince sits up in his bed, wincing horribly, and I grab the windowsill.

It’s Carmine. He’s here to kill us.

An older woman dressed in a Sunday dress bursts into the room, followed by an exasperated nurse.

“I’m sorry, sir. I couldn’t stop her!”

“I’m his mother!”

It’s Mrs. Cesare. A surge of heat rises up my neck when she tears across the room and flings herself over Vince’s hospital bed. I wonder how much Vincent told her about our ‘break-up.’ He sends me an angry look.

What? I didn’t call her.

“Ma, what are you doin’ here?”

“What are you talking about?” she asks in an almost offended tone. “I’m your mother! Oh my God.”

She plucks at the tubes leading to arm, the gauze fastened over his wounds. She clasps her veined hands around her mouth and a noisy sob shakes from her mouth. “Look at what happened to you. My poor baby.”

His face burns scarlet. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine.” She fusses over him, fluffing his pillow and smoothing out his bed sheet. She wipes her eyes. “Who did this to you?” Her hands vibrate with a mother’s rage, as if she wants to call the parents of the kid who hurt her son.

“Erm-I think I’ll go. Good seeing you, Gloria.” Jack approaches her to give her a kiss and then he leaves with a relieved air.

“Bye Jack.”

I have a sudden urge to leave the room with Jack, but Vincent’s pointed glare warns me not to leave him alone. I take a step forward and Mrs. Cesare notices my presence for the first time. She jumps, uttering a little scream.

“Adriana!”

I give her a hesitant smile. Vince’s eyes bulge out and he waves his hands behind her back. “Hi, Mrs. Cesare.”

My cheeks burn as she fixes me with an intense stare.

“Are you and my boy back together, then?”

“Y-yes.”

She bursts into tears and launches herself at me, her arms almost straining my neck as she gives me a fierce hug.

“I was so upset when Vinny told me you guys were over. What happened? Did he say something-”

“MA! That’s enough!”

“Never mind, it doesn’t matter!” A pink tinge rises in her cheeks as her son glares at her. “I’m just so happy you’re back together. I didn’t have any hope for my son when you left him. He’s handsome, but he has no manners.”

Ignoring Vincent’s violent hand gestures, I look at Mrs. Cesare’s beaming face. “I didn’t leave him by choice. It’s a long story.”

Vincent grabs the sides of his head and utters a low growl. “You’re driving me up the wall and it hasn’t been five fucking minutes. Leave her alone!”

Mrs. Cesare turns around to the hospital bed, a very angry look on her face. “How dare you talk to me like that? I’m your mother, not some maid.”

“This wasn’t the best time for you to come and visit. It’s not safe. That’s why I didn’t call you.”

“Safe? What do you mean?”

Vince sits up in his bed and bellows at the door. “NICKY!”

I jump at the noise. “Vincent, relax. I’ll go get him.”

I cross over the room past a bewildered Mrs. Cesare and I open the door, finding Nicky posted at the entrance.

“Nicky, Vince wants you.”

He follows me inside and makes a sound of jubilation. “Hey, there he is! You feeling okay?”

“Fine,” he says through his teeth. “Could you take my mother outside and please do not let her out of your goddamn sight?”

“But I just got here!”

“I can’t relax when you’re in the same room, and I need rest.”

Whoa, that’s a bit harsh. “Vince!”

Mrs. Cesare looks like he just slapped her face. Her eyes fill with angry tears, and she walks out of the room followed by a bemused Nicky. I round on him once the door closes.

“Vince, how could you do that to her?”

“Don’t fucking start.” He settles into his pillows, looking molested.

I close my mouth as I approach his bed and his arm reaches out for me. He touches my face as I sit down next to him. Then he lets out a long sigh.

“Damn, I can’t wait until this is over and we can get back to our normal lives.”

“What’s normal?”

He smiles. “Planning our wedding.” He twists a strand of my hair between his fingers, winding it so that I’m forced to lean closer. He lifts his head to kiss me, his lips soft against mine. Fluttering butterflies soar in my stomach as he deepens the kiss. Vince lets out a low, satisfied growl when I pull away.

“When this thing with Carmine is over, I’m going to take a couple months off. I need a break.”

I suck in breath. “Can you do that?”

He shrugs painfully. “Jack will probably give me a month.”

We both need a break. I just want to have school and the wedding to worry about. I’m not sure how I feel about the Vittorios. Jack’s support was nice, but it would be even nicer if we didn’t have to deal with all this shit anymore.

Fat chance I’ll ever get him to agree to that.

“Adriana, get me my jacket.” He nods towards the jacket draped over the chair and I take it.

“Look inside the left jacket pocket.”

Glancing at him with a puzzled look, I dive my hand inside and my fingers close around a small box. I pull it out and open it. It’s my ring.

A wave of emotion suddenly floods my face and I take the shimmering ring in my fingers delicately, sliding it back on. It looks delicate on my finger. Beautiful.

“I never wanted to give it back.” I sniff hard and rotate it in the light. “Thanks for not pawning it.”

He gazes at it wistfully. “I never really gave up on you. I couldn’t.”

He’s the best thing that ever happened to me.

I lean forward and kiss him again. I’m possessed with an urge to climb into the hospital bed with him, to feel his smoldering touch all over my skin, but then there’s a knock at the door. I wipe my face.

A small nurse edges inside and walks towards the bed, checking his dressings.

“When can I get out of this goddamn bed?” he asks rudely.

“We can try getting you a wheelchair, if you like.”

“Yes, please.”

When she returns with the chair, Vince is determined to get out of bed by himself. It’s frustrating to watch him sit up painfully and then slide off the bed. He turns around and sinks into the wheelchair.

“Much better.”

He grins at me from the chair and I turn away, shaking my head. It surprises me how fast he’s bounced back. The doctor said he got incredibly lucky. Most people need physical therapy, but Vince might not even need that.

There’s a knock at the door. It opens, revealing a man in a dark blue uniform that makes my stomach do backflips. He steps into the room without waiting to be invited in.

“Adriana Baldino?”

“Yeah.”

“I have a few questions for you I’d like to ask in private.”

Vince swears and gives him a beady look. “Look, you can talk to her lawyer.”

“It’ll just take five minutes, ma’am.”

I look from him to Vince nervously. “Okay.”

Vince catches my hand. “Come right back.” His eyes burn with urgency.

The officer looks strangely tense as I smile at Vince and join his side. We leave Vince’s room and walk past the waiting room, down a series of empty hallways. My pulse starts to quicken when he stops in front of a door and opens it for me.

“Get in,” he says in a tight voice.

“Officer, what’s-”

Suddenly, his hand shoves the small of my back and I stumble into the dark, empty room. I wheel around, but the officer closes the door and his back covers the window. I twist the doorknob and slam my shoulder into the wall, and then an arm reaches around my throat, yanking me back.

I scream as I’m pulled into a man’s chest. His palm swallows my scream and I hear his low hiss in my ear.

“Hello, Adriana. How’s Vince doing?”

Carmine!

His other hand winds around my waist and holds me snug. I struggle in his grasp, screaming useless words that won’t penetrate the thick door. He bends my neck backwards painfully, and I feel excruciating pain when I try to lift it.

“I’ve been waiting to catch you alone, and I’ve finally managed it.” He inhales and exhales in my ear. His voice sounds nervous. It makes the hairs on my neck stand up. “I just want you to know that I loved you and that I really regret this.”

“Carmine, no!” I scream into his hand.

I was so worried about what Carmine was up to outside the walls of this hospital that I never imagined he could be a threat to me here.

His hand flattens my lips. “Shut up.” His lips kiss the top of my head. “You chose Vincent over me, even though I could’ve given you everything you wanted. You women are all the fucking same.”

I jab my elbow into his side and he spins me around, slamming me into the wall. Carmine looks haggard, his eyes are bloodshot and his clothes-filthy. He looks at me with the same contempt in his eyes before he tried to kill me.

Defuse the situation.

“I love him, Carmine. Maybe if I met you first-”

“-You’re a vicious person,” he says in a low growl. “I was fine before I met you, but then you went behind my back with Tony to screw me over. How could you agree to do that? To fuck over someone you didn’t even know?”

I flinch from the ugly words hurled at my face. He’s right, but I still can’t spare him any sympathy. There’s just too much violence between us already.

“Carmine, wouldn’t you do anything for the person you loved? That’s just what I was trying to do. I knew it was wrong, but I did it anyway to save him.”

He slams his fist into the wall next to my head.

“What’s so fucking special about Vincent?” he bellows in my face. “Why can’t you fucking love me like I love you?”

Because you killed my father.

My voice rises hysterically as I try to save myself. “Carmine, listen. I liked you a lot when I first met you. You were handsome, polite, sensitive-you were a decent guy! I know that if I met you first, I would have dated you. But then you hurt me. You choked me.”

His face creases in pain. “I said I was sorry.”

“That doesn’t mean that I forgave you. Vince never raised a hand against me, and he never will. That’s-that’s why I can’t love you.”

Also, you killed my fucking Dad and I want nothing to do with you.

Still, he refuses to listen, shaking his head like I’m an irksome fly. “People act out all the time, that doesn’t mean that I-Christ, Adriana! You never even gave us a chance.”

“It’s not normal,” I say in a hushed voice. “It’s never okay to hurt someone you care about. I’m sorry that you grew up to believe that, but it’s wrong.”

Carmine looks down at his feet, tears in his eyes. He looks at me like I’ve hurt him, like I’m the cruel one.

“Just let me go, and I swear I won’t tell anyone.”

He sniffs hard and lifts his head, a trembling smile on his face. “Let you go? I don’t think so. Good fucking riddance, Adriana.”

His strong hands link around my throat before I can beg him not to. I stamp down hard on his shoes, digging in my heels into his toes. Carmine doesn’t budge. His thumbs press down over my larynx and I’m completely blocked from air. My heart races with everything I’ll never be able to do.

“Just relax, Adriana.”

Fuck you. I won’t give up!

But even if my mind won’t give up, my body is. My muscles scream for oxygen. I tear at his fingers desperately, gouging them with my nails, but he won’t let go. Carmine’s face streams with tears. He looks like he regrets it already.

“I’m sorry.”

I sink down to the floor, my legs giving out. Carmine follows me. My hands are limp and nothing really seems to matter anymore.

Vince! Help.

Even the voice in my head is faint. Carmine’s lips move and I don’t hear anything. All I feel is an excruciating burning in my lungs. My skin tingles and my face touches the cool tiles.

At least I’ll get to see Dad.

The door bursts open and several pairs of legs walk inside. The stifling grip around my throat slackens, and a sliver of oxygen makes its way into my lungs. Blood churns behind my ears as I gasp like a fish on land. Sound returns to my ears as I turn on my back.

Carmine flies against the wall as a tall, lean man wearing spectacles-a man I recognize as Paulie, shoves him hard. There are two others standing in the room: Vince and Nicky. The shorter man forces Carmine to kneel and takes his hands behind his back.

Vince is like an angry god, standing tall as if nothing happened to him, screaming something unintelligible as he swings his good arm, smashing his fist against Carmine’s face. Pain crushes both of their faces.

“FUCK YOU! FUCK YOUR MOTHER!”

His head rips to the side, blood spraying across the room. Paulie and Nicky jerk him back upright so that Vince can hit him again and again and again. Sickening, meat-like smacks fill the room, and I see blood blossoming over the gauze on Vincent’s chest. Then Paulie walks around and tries to stop him.

“You fucked up your stitches,” he says in an even voice. “Let me take over.”

“Vince!” I manage to croak out his name.

Carmine’s face is a bloody mess-unrecognizable. He drops to the floor like a stone and Nicky kicks his side savagely, his little face lit with malice. At the sound of my voice, Vince immediately drops to my side, his hands shaking. There’s blood all over his chest and shoulder. It looks like he destroyed his wounds.

“Breathe, Adriana. Just breathe.”


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