Angel

37

            "She was extremely lucky. The shooter must have miscalculated, he missed all essential organs by a few centimeters," a voice spoke. "Thank you, Doctor," I heard Alfie's voice reply through the haze of black. "You should get some rest, it could take a while before she comes to," the doctor said. "Nah. No. I've been here a couple days already, I'm not leavin' her now," Alfie replied stiffly, his voice hoarse and quiet. I heard the sound of a door open and then shut, and a heavy sigh filled the room. "Y-you saved her life," Alfie muttered, and I heard a soft grunt in response that I knew belonged to Arthur. It would seem wherever I was, Alfie wasn't the only one in the room. "I know how ya feel about me, but you saved her life, and for that I owe ya mine. I don't know what I'd do without her," Alfie mumbled, and I felt a hand grip mine. "She's my little sister. I'd die for her," Arthur said softly. "Then it looks like you and I are on the same page then, eh?" Alfie let out a bitter laugh, and I heard the sound of hands clasping together. Apparently for my fiance and my brother to get along they needed my life to be endangered. But, nevertheless, I was happy it'd finally happened.

            "How is she?" a new voice entered the room in a hurry. I knew at once it was Polly. "Doc says she should be alright. It'll take a while to heal, but the shooter missed all the - uh - major organs and whatnot," came Alfie's grunt reply. "Oh thank god," Polly murmured in relief. I felt her cold hand slip into mine. "How was the funeral?" Alfie asked after a moment. "It was lovely. I'm sure Grace would have loved it. But it was dark, my nephew just lost the love of his life. Don't know how he'll go on after this," Polly replied with a sigh. Alfie grunted in response and the room was filled with a thick silence. Light started to break through the haze of black, and gasps broke out moments later when I felt my fingers begin to twitch. The light grew brighter, and brighter, and squinting, I was finally able to open my eyes. "Oh, god, angel, yer awake," Alfie all but cried, his eyes teeming with relieved tears. "Welcome back to the world of the living," Polly jested, but her eyes, too, were filled with relieved tears. "W-what happened...that night?" I croaked, my voice hoarse and crackling. "The Changretta's happened. Those fucking wops were seeking revenge, and they-they shot Grace...through you," Arthur replied solemnly. "G-grace? N-no. No. S-she's not...she can't be..." I stammered, my eyes darting across the sorrowful gazes of my family. "She's gone, love," Polly confirmed with a melancholy nod. "T-tommy?" I asked, tears beginning to stream down my cheeks. I watched with concern as Polly and Arthur exchanged a quick glance.

            "He's...coping. Somewhat. He goes out riding every night, and doesn't come back until the morning. Then he stops by to see Charles and feed the horses, and when it gets dark again he rides back off," Polly replied slowly. "What about Charlie?" I asked, my concern for my nephew growing. "He's alright. He doesn't understand what's happened, but Ada's been watching after him. He asks for his mum at night," Polly replied, and I nodded slowly. "How long have I been here?" I asked, gratefully accepting a glass of water Alfie had handed me. "A few days. I'll go let Tommy know you're up," Arthur replied, whisking out of the room at once. "W-what's going on?" I asked, sipping the water carefully. "Tommy made a list. He wants to see you, and Michael and I first," Polly replied, eyeing Alfie. I nodded in response, handing the glass back to Alfie. "I'll go - erm - get ya a change of clothes from home, and then I'll come back," Alfie stammered awkwardly. I placed a hand over his jaw, bringing his face down to mine. "Thank you," I whispered, pressing my lips against his. His lips moved against mine for a moment before he pulled away, tucking a few strands of hair behind my ear with a gentle hand. "I love ya, angel," he whispered thickly. "I love you too," I replied, watching as he reluctantly left the room.

            "When can I get out of here?" I asked, turning to my aunt. "Another two days here, and then you'll be well enough to go home. But the doctor mentioned it'll be awhile before you heal completely, so you need to take things easy for a while. Make sure your fiance watches over you, and helps you around," Polly all but ordered. "Polly, I'm not made of glass, I'll be fine looking after myself," I replied with a sigh accompanied by an eye roll. "You will do no such thing. Don't make me move in with you, darling," Polly shot back, one taunting eyebrow raised. I relented with a sigh, knowing she wouldn't be swayed. "Alright, alright, fine," I muttered. The doctor strode through the door with a smile. "You're awake," he grinned. I nodded in response with a slight smile. "I'll just need to check the wound, and then I'll have some food brought to you," he said, and I nodded, familiar with the procedure. I pulled the sheets gently away from my body, lifting the hospital gown as I leaned back against the bed frame. The doctor gently lifted the medical tape from my skin, peeling back the gauze over the wound. As far as gunshot wounds went, this one was far from the worst I'd seen in my life, but it had caused me to lose a lot of blood. "It's healing nicely," I commented as the doctor inspected it, and he nodded, meeting my gaze with furrowed eyebrows. "I'm a nurse," I told him, and he nodded, my reaction now making sense to him. "Alright, we'll just change the gauze here, you'll need to spend a couple more days here but then you're free to go. Just make sure you take things easy for a while, until it's completely healed," he ordered, and I nodded as he changed the gauze, gently taping it back down.

            "You're lucky there was an exit wound, no fragments or shrapnel to be found. It's a clean wound. No signs of infection or gangrene either. You're very lucky, Miss Shelby," he commented as he finished up. "Kind of playing it fast and loose with the word lucky," I whispered under my breath, but the doctor chose to ignore my comment. "Food will be here shortly," he told me with a smile, and I nodded as he left the room to continue making his rounds. The door had been closed for only a moment before it swung back open wide. Tommy entered the room quickly, taking a seat beside my bed as Michael closed the door softly behind them. "I'm glad you're alright, Lena," Tommy sighed, his eyes meeting mine. I nodded slowly, swallowing hard at his appearance. His dulled eyes were red, like he hadn't gotten enough sleep, circles dark enough to be bruises hanging below them. His skin was dulled, pale and thin, almost sickly, and his cheeks were hollow. He looked almost like a broken man. After losing his wife and almost losing his sister, who could blame him. But still, I couldn't quench the worry and concern that gripped my heart with fingers of ice. "How are the books?" Tommy asked, looking to Polly across my bedside. "Unaffected," Polly answered slowly. These must have been the first words Tommy had spoken to any of them since...since Grace. "Up slightly," Michael spoke up, commenting on the state of the books these days. "There's also been a three fold increase in donations to the Shelby Foundation Charity. The counselor suggested naming the new school 'The Grace Shelby Institute'," he added.

            "Tell the counselor the name 'Grace Shelby Institute' is acceptable to us," Tommy replied lowly. He sniffed, taking an envelope out of the inside pocket of his waistcoat, handing it over to Polly. "This is a list of the other things I want doing. Once Lena's better, have her help you. That's all," Tommy announced, as Polly took the envelope from his outstretched hand. "Tommy," I muttered weakly, stretching my hand out towards him. "That's all, Lena," Tommy muttered, his voice stony and final. Polly and Michael both rose to their feet, hesitantly making their way towards the door. With a final look back at my brother and I, they slowly left the room, the door closing softly behind them. "Tommy," I murmured softly once more, but he avoided my gaze. "I don't want to hear it, Lena," Tommy hissed. "She was my best friend, you know. Outside of the family. She wasn't just important to you. How was her funeral?" I asked, trying desperately to swallow the lump in my throat. Tommy looked down with a sigh, clasping his hands together and leaning over his knees. "It was lovely. She would have liked it. Only thing missing was you," he replied, his voice quiet. "Well, I was a bit busy, being unconscious and all that, you know," I replied softly. Tommy let out a bitter chuckle, looking back up at me with tears in his eyes.

            "I don't know what I would have done if I'd lost both of you," he muttered, clearing his throat. "You'd have gone on," I started after a moment, "You'd have gone on doing what you needed to for the sake of the business, for the family. Doing what you need to for your son. Because that's what she'd want. We both know that. But thankfully, you didn't lose me, and going on is what you're still going to do. And I'll be there to help you go on." Tommy nodded slowly, pressing his lips together in a hard line. "Arthur and John have already gone after Angel Changretta. They're looking for the Italians, and finding Vincente Changretta. He's not gonna get away with anything," Tommy informed me, and I nodded, knowing my brothers would kill anyone in their path in revenge for taking Grace, and for endangering my own life. The door slowly opened to reveal Alfie, accompanied by a few bags of essentials. "Alfie," Tommy muttered, and Alfie nodded respectfully, watching as my brother sighed and abruptly left the room. "What was that all about?" Alfie asked, setting the bags down on the floor and taking Tommy's now vacated seat at my bedside. "I've been the only one that sees past his walls. I think he just needed to talk for a moment. Just one," I replied softly, and Alfie nodded. His eyebrows furrowed as he took my hand, gazing over my body in the hospital bed. "What?" I asked with a sigh. He met my gaze, shaking his head slightly. "I don't know what I would'a done if I'd lost ya, angel. You are my entire world. I c-can't lose ya. That's why I keep pushing for this whole...retirement thing. I want ya out of this whole fuckin' game. I want ya safe, and accounted for. Knowin' I'll get to wake up every mornin' with you in my arms," he rambled slightly.

            "Alfie, Tommy said months ago, this was the last one. Now that we're both involved in it...maybe after this is all finally over. We can have that retirement," I replied, stroking my thumb over the back of his rough hand. Alfie nodded, wetting his lips lightly. "Just promise me...promise me I'll never have to see ya in a hospital bed again. Alright? I've seen ya in more danger than any man should ever see their fiance in...I can't bear the thought of ya bein' put in any more danger. So please, promise me...no more hospital beds," he whispered, looking up at me from underneath his long lashes. "I promise," I replied with a small smile. He chuckled lightly, lifting my hand gently and pressing his lips against the back of it. "Oh, angel, you'll be the death of me," he chuckled, and I grinned.