Made For The Mafia (18+) (1 of 3)

Chapter 43 - Didn't

I'm sitting in an uncomfortable wooden chair listening to the beeping of the machine beside Enzo's bed. I watch his eyes, praying they will open and tell me he's alright.

Everyone else - Anthony, Danny, David, some other guys - wait outside the room with the door closed. I don't think it's to give me privacy, though. I think they're avoiding having to face me after last night and how much I fought them to come here - anyone on our team, that is. Anthony has been in to check if I needed anything many times now. Once an hour, at the same minute each time, like clockwork.

I have to admit, when Danny said they had a doctor, he wasn't kidding. This is practically a mini hospital, just in a vet's office in the middle of nowhere. I assume they pay the usual vet to leave while they get Dr. Polino here. There is no way he is a vet and not a real doctor.

Regardless, they have a full set up here and I trust the doctor when he says that Enzo will wake up eventually. I just wish that eventually was, well, now. It has been almost 24 hours now since he went unconscious.

I think back to last night, replaying the events in my head, trying to find the exact moment Enzo got shot. But it couldn't have been when I was covering him - I was watching him the entire time. He never got hit. Unless it was when I was in the car for those few minutes... and in that case I blame one person only...

I'm lost in my own head when I hear the beeping quicken and it pulls me back to reality. I sit up straighter as his eyelids move just a tiny bit, but enough to give me immense hope.

"Enzo," I say quietly, trying to coax him awake.

Holy shit, it works...

His eyes open slowly and then he blinks a few times, adjusting to the bright lights in the room.

"You're awake!" I smile and reach for his hand closest to me, squeezing it lightly around all the wires.

He looks at me for a second and then around the room before back at me again.

"You were shot. Dr. Polino did surgery and removed the bullet. You should be healed in a few weeks." I explain, trying to keep my voice even and unemotional, the opposite to what I'm feeling.

"C-Cat," he croaks out and I give him a tight, relieved smile as I reach for the cup of water on the tray to my right. I hold it up for him to sip from the straw, waving away his hand trying to reach and do it himself.

"I'll get the doctor," I mumble as I set down the cup and move to get up. I feel his fingers wrap around my wrist on the bed beside his hand, reminding me instantly of the way he did it last night when I was putting pressure on the wound. There's more strength behind his grip this time, though, thankfully.

"Wait," he says more clearly after the water and I freeze and sit back down, looking at his hand on mine. "What's wrong?" He asks, his tone laced with concern.

He shouldn't be the one concerned. He is the one who was shot.

"Nothing, the doctor should look at you now that you're awake." I tell him, slowly moving my eyes to him.

"Caterina," he says, his eyebrows furrowing as he searches my face, "what's wrong?"

"Nothing," I lie again.

He sees right through me. "I can tell there is... in your eyes."

I sigh and try to suppress the tears threatening to release down my cheeks. I'm unsuccessful.

"Princess, don't cry," he whispers and reaches up as much as he can towards my face. I lean in the rest of the way and let him brush his thumb lightly over the top of my cheek, wiping away the single tear that escaped my left eye.