Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 82847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
He started to turn pale and stopped looking at the cut, which had begun to bleed profusely, even lost his balance slightly. “Get Frankie…”
“We need a doctor.” I grabbed him by the good arm and started to walk him out.
“She’s the doctor,” he said quickly. “Just get me to the main house.”
“She’s the doctor?”
“Well, she’s our doctor, but I think she’s a nurse.”
I didn’t have time to be impressed when I saw all the blood he was losing. “Come on.” I walked him outside and found a golf cart they used on the property. He got into the passenger seat, the glass still sticking out of his arm, and I rushed down the path to the main villa in the distance.
He continued to look pale, quiet as he sat there and breathed deeply.
“You’re in the Mafia, and you can’t stand the sight of blood?” I asked incredulously.
“Just my own.”
I made it to the villa and came to a stop. “Come on.” I helped him up the stairs and entered the house, stepping into the entryway, which had a table that held an enormous vase of fresh flowers. “Frankie!” I yelled as I pulled him into the kitchen, where some of the staff were washing and preparing tomatoes and garlic, probably to make sauce for dinner. They scattered away when I guided him to the table and put him in a chair. “Frankie!” I’d never formally met the girl, but I screamed her name like we were well acquainted. “Got a patient for you.”
A moment later, hurried footsteps came around the corner, and she appeared in high-waisted jeans and a white top with poofy sleeves, a gold cross hanging around her neck and gold bangles on her right wrist. She took one look at Salvatore and sighed. “Cristo, what the hell happened?” She came to his side and examined his bloody arm, her palm and fingertips immediately soaked in Salvatore’s blood, but she didn’t even blink. She looked at one of the maids in the kitchen. “Suture kit and alcohol.”
“Yes, Signorina Mancini.”
Frankie grabbed a chair and pulled it up beside him. “Get me a towel.”
I assumed that order was for me, so I grabbed the first one I saw on the counter near the sink and handed it over.
She grabbed the shard and pulled it out in a single smooth motion, like she’d done this before.
Salvatore made the mistake of looking at the pool of blood that started to pour out. “Oh Jesus…” Then he started to sway.
“Hold him,” she ordered.
I grabbed on to his arm and shoulder and forced him upright when he passed out. His head tilted back over the edge of the chair.
She applied pressure to the wound, and then one of the maids brought the medical supplies she needed. Frankie kept one hand on the wound with enough pressure to turn her knuckles white while she ripped open the suture kit with her teeth. “Hold him for a second.”
I assumed she was addressing me again, so I held him up with one arm while I gripped the gauze with the other.
She prepared the needle and thread then came back to his arm. She grabbed the bloody towel and tossed it onto the table before she got to work, quickly poking the needle through his skin and bringing the thread taut across the wound before she closed that part of the gash. “What happened?” she asked as she worked, her eyes focused on her needle.
“He grabbed the wrong crate and dropped it.”
“Why was he moving crates in the warehouse?”
“To keep me company.”
She continued her work and asked no further questions, stitching him up like she’d done this a hundred times, brushing away a strand of her hair and getting some blood on her cheek.
I almost wiped it away but thought better of it.
If I’d known the best way to get alone time with her was with an injury, I would have shot myself in the arm on my first day.
She finished the last suture then dumped alcohol over the cut, cleaning it again before she wrapped it in gauze and secured it.
“He’ll be alright?”
The kitchen staff had left the room, probably to avoid the blood that had gotten all over the table and the floor. All the food on the counter was now contaminated, so they’d have to toss it.
“Yeah, he’ll be fine,” she said. “He didn’t lose enough blood. Nothing to faint over.” She secured the gauze in place with tape then grabbed his face and gave him a gentle shake. “A little pathetic.”
“Men ain’t shit, huh?” I asked with a smirk.
It was the first time she looked at me, and the swatch of blood on her cheek somehow heightened her goddess-like beauty. Her emerald eyes took me in with a sudden sharpness, as if perhaps she hadn’t realized I was the one standing next to her because she’d been focused on Salvatore. “Some—not all.”