Doctor for the Mafia [original]

Ch. 27

Matteo Casciani:

It was two in the morning, and I was still tossing and turning in my sleep. Restless, I got out of bed and stalked towards the kitchen. I was in the hall when turned the corner and noticed it was occupied. Looking through the fridge was Marcella and Aiden.

"Don't drink the milk from the carton!" She smacked him on the back of his head, causing him to choke.  

"Pass the ice cream." She said as she grabbed out a spoon. 

"Are you sure? Last time I checked, ice cream makes you scream at me about your hips." Aiden replied, opening the freezer.

"Shut up." Marcella shot him daggers.

Not wanting to face them, I went back upstairs. They must have been up for the exact same reason. Before going to my room, I decided to stop by Kimberly's. Maybe the visit will put my mind at ease.

I caught myself from knocking on the door, remembering that Kimberly wasn't in the state to open the door herself. I walked into the room I've gotten familiar with in the past three weeks. Right by the bed was a chair. I sat in it as I watched Kimberly. Her eyes were closed. She hasn't moved from the last time I saw her. It was almost silent, only the sound of the constant beeps from her heart monitor. 

I bent over to put elbows on my knees, allowing myself to be crunched over with my face in my hands. It's all my fault. Since her first day of being captured, I slowly began to regret my decisions.

1. Recruiting Kimberly into the mafia.

I shouldn't have given her a chance to be in organized crime. Although my real intentions were to make her follow me to the house and kill her, but things took a turn.

2. Letting my pride get in the way of properly training her.

I should have sucked it up like a man and take her out to shooting. Maybe then things would have played out differently. Perhaps she would have been able to hold a gun and protect herself.

3. Developing feelings for Kimberly. 

I don't even have an explanation for this one, it just happened. 

4. Yelling at her to get into the car. 

I should have changed the way I tried to protect her. Instead of telling her to flee, maybe I should have relocated myself over to her to shield her. 

I lifted my head out of my palms to look at Kimberly. As I sadly look at her face, I realized that she was sweating. I sighed as I got up, getting out of the room and into the bathroom next door.

I grabbed a towel out of the cabinet from under the sink. I placed the dried towel under the running faucet, wringing it after. As I did, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I couldn't clean up myself. I started to grow facial hair from not shaving. My hair was a mess and needed a haircut. Due to the lack of sleep, my dark bags were visible on my pale face.

 I walked out of the bathroom and back into Kimberly's room. Sitting down in the chair next to the bed, I leaned over Kimberly's sleeping body and began to dab the towel on her forehead. Most of Kimberly's cuts and bruises were gone, only scars remain.

I remembered of terrifying to see Kimberly when we found her. That time I carried her, she seemed to feel half her weight. She was completely starving and abused. It scared me how lifeless she looked in my arms that day.

I heard footsteps coming from behind me that tore me away from my thoughts. It was Marcella appeared who stepped into the room.

Her head was down as she rubbed her eyes, sniffling. She was headed towards this very chair. I got up and, unfortunately, the chair made a skidding sound. Marcella lifted her head, surprised to see me. 

"Oh!" Marcella said awkwardly, quickly wiping her tears off her face. "I'll go." She turned around to walk out the door, but I stopped her. 

"No. It's okay. I'll go, I was done here anyway." 

She was going to reject, but I was already out of the door. I didn't close the door all the way. I stayed behind to watch Marcella. Ever since we got here for treatment for Kimberly, she was strong. I watched her fill in the empty seat. It was only a couple of minute of silence until she broke down. Marcella was sobbing as she clutched Kimberly's hand. I knew that she wasn't doing okay. 

Kimberly was her first best friend in the Mafia. Marcella was a beautiful girl with intimidating looks. Having Oriana as an enemy, she has rumors spreading around, and people in the mafia are quick to judge. Having somebody completely new and all to herself was what Marcella needed. Kimberly never asked us about our past, and that was what we liked, she didn't judge.

I need some air. I wasn't able to look at the sight of this. 

I stepped out into the empty, dimly lit street in Veneto, Italy. The rich aroma filled my lungs making me forget my worries. I was glad to back here, not under this circumstances but nevertheless, I missed Italy. 

I leaned against the building of our safe house, closing my eyes. The sound of the door opening interrupted the silence. 

"Matteo! Matteo Casciani!" Marcella desperately called for me.

I pushed myself off the wall, alert. 

"Yes?" I asked, trying not to panic before she told me what was going on. Marcella ran out of the door and down the steps to me.

"It's Kimberly!"Marcella informed, her eyes were red as tears fell, 'I don't know what happened. She started shaking, Matteo. We basically killed her!"

Marcella began to cry hysterically. I grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her, trying to get her to snap out of it.

"Don't say that," I told her as I got her back into reality. "I'm going to make sure she doesn't die on us."

Every step I took up the stairs to reach to her room filled me with guilt, sadness, and fear. I don't want her to die. I can't help myself from feeling so selfish. It was so cruel for me to want her to continue on living. I just want her. 

***

Please show much love :)