Page 24 of Shattered Jewel
I meet them at the base of the staircase, my arms tight at my sides.
Sasha’s still shouting in the background as Kaspian tries to fight her off and staunch his own wound, and my mother’s monotone voice is the percussion as she discusses the situation while shut in her bedroom with my invisible, dead father.
“Thank you for coming. He’s in here,” I say to them once Rossi’s bottomless, black stare meets mine. Tempest merely arches an ebony brow over wintergreen eyes.
I lead them into the dilapidated sitting room, where Kaspian slouches forward on a tattered sofa chair, pale and sweating, but stubborn as an ass. Sasha huffs behind him, glaring at the back of his head. Kaspian’s eyes narrow at the sight of Tempest, who lets out a low whistle upon noticing him. “Well now, this is turning out to be an interesting evening.”
“Shut up,” Kaspian snarls.
“Make me.” Tempest smirks. “Unless you want to finish what your girlfriend’s mommy started?”
Kaspian’s lip curls into a sneer, rage simmering beneath the surface. “I wouldn’t come to you buzzards for help if my head was on a block.”
“Enough,” I snap, even as my stomach flips at the fact Kaspian didn’t deny the girlfriend part of Tempest’s sentence.
Yes, I am either so in shock or so unhinged that I’m actually delighted at this moment.
“I asked them here. I had no choice,” I say when Kaspian unhinges his jaw, likely to say something heinous. “No one else picked up their phone, including Cav.”
They turn to look at me, Kaspian’s anger fading into surprise.
Kaspian’s lashes flicker, temporarily shading the toxic green of his eyes before he schools his expression. I resist the urge to question him on what awful news would keep the guys from answering my calls, choosing to focus on the present.
Rossi lowers his brows, snuffing out any shred of light from his eyes. “Believe me, Mr. Valenti, I’d much rather return to my manor where I was rather enjoying my weekend away from the city with a beautiful woman. You’ve interrupted. So rather than bleed out on Elara’s chair, let’s make this quick for all of us.”
Kaspian grits his teeth as Rossi approaches with his medical bag, the former surgeon’s movements precise and efficient.
I didn’t notice that Sasha had sidled up to my side until she squeezes my arm. She says so only I can hear, “I heard Rossi’s in the mafia now. There’s a mafia don in your fucking. House.”
I nod, like this is normal.
Rossi kneels beside the sofa chair, setting down a black leather medical bag and unzipping it to reveal an array of surgical instruments. Kaspian eyes the scalpels and forceps with suspicion, his muscles tensing beneath his blood-soaked white shirt.
I raise my brows at Sasha, impressed she got the blazer off him.
“He told me he’d turn the blazer into a noose around my neck if I so much as touched him,” she mutters to me. “God forbid I try to use Armani as a tourniquet.”
“I don’t need your help,” Kaspian growls at Rossi, even as his face drains of color.
Rossi ignores him, donning black latex gloves with a snap.
“Hold him down,” he instructs Tempest, who stands behind Kaspian, gripping his shoulders firmly.
“Is he going to be okay?” I ask.
The way Kaspian’s body torqued backward after the bullet hit him, the surprise on his face, the idea of him dying at my feet…
I suppress an agonized moan at the thought.
“He’ll live,” Tempest says, his tone bored. “Rossi’s patched up worse.”
I hover nearby, my throat aching as I watch Rossi cut away the fabric around Kaspian’s shoulder. Blood wells up from the bullet hole, dark and viscous. Rossi swabs it away dispassionately.
“The bullet’s still in there,” he announces after a moment’s probing. “I’ll need to extract it before I can close the wound.”
Kaspian blanches but remains silent, his jaw clenched so tightly I fear his teeth might shatter. Sasha whimpers, releasing me hand to cover her mouth.
“If anyone feels the urge to vomit, I suggest you leave.”