Nixon was instantly at Sergio's other side. "You were severely dehydrated, drugged — you technically died. Whatever you imagined happening… didn't… happen, Sergio. Tex and I were there. So were Andi, Phoenix, Frank — all of us — and you did talk about being a match, but you aren't. Tex just came in to tell us."
"But—" Sergio's face fell. "—it was real. It felt so real."
I wiped the stray tears rolling down my face. This man, his love was so incredible. I didn't deserve it. "I'm so sorry, Sergio."
"Why are
you
sorry?" He jerked his hand back. "It's my fault!" The heart monitor started going crazy. "I didn't save you!" Tears welled in his eyes. "I can't save you, damn it!"
A nurse rushed into the room. "What's going on?"
"He's upset," I said dumbly as more tears collected on my cheeks.
The nurse frowned. "Well, try to keep him calm." She inserted something into his IV and checked his vitals. "Quite a close call, Mr. Abandonato. I imagine you'll be more careful what neighborhoods you walk around in next time."
Sergio didn't miss a beat. "Right, it was foolish of me to think I was safe in that area of Chicago."
She nodded and handed him his call button. "Be sure to let me know if you need anything. The police have already been by, so for now, just rest."
When the door closed, he glanced at Nixon. "Police."
"Gunshot wounds." He shrugged. "But me and the chief go way back. His sons always wanted to attend Elite."
"Amazing," I whispered under my breath.
Tex grinned in my direction. "What's amazing is the amount of cops we have on the ledger."
Sergio's breathing had evened out.
I glanced back at him. "I'm glad you're okay."
"But you're not." His eyes focused in on my hand; he gripped my fingers tight. "And I think I pointed a gun at you."
"Thus, why Nixon shot your sorry ass," Tex said.
"Caught that." Sergio pointed at his clipboard. I handed it to him while he quickly read it. His face paled as he set it back down. "Maybe next time my cousin should aim for the less important arteries?"
"You seized." Nixon crossed his arms and sat down in his chair. "I couldn't have predicted that."
"Yeah, well…" Sergio licked his lips. "…thank you… for coming for me. I should kick your asses but then I wouldn't be here, with Andi, so… thank you."
Nixon grinned. "You think this one…" He pointed an accusing finger at me. "…would have it any other way? She was ready to bomb the house just to find you."
"I briefly recall a bomb actually going off." He squinted in my direction while Tex and Nixon muttered, "Frank," under their breaths.
Tex nodded at Nixon. "We should let them talk."
Nixon rose from his chair and followed Tex out. "Let us know if you need anything."
Sergio waited until the door closed before he turned his attention to me. His eyes were sad. I'd always heard that expression — even read about it — but never had actually experienced it.
His blue eyes were glassy like he was trying to hold tears back, his expression grim, his face pale. When he gazed at me, it was with utter hopelessness, and I hated that he'd been brought to that point.
"Chin up." I winked. "At least Nixon didn't kill you."
"Remember how you said I sucked at pep talks?" He frowned, gripping my other hand in his.
"Vaguely," I said innocently.
He cracked a smile. "Yeah, well… you're not so good yourself."
"Russians don't have feelings."
"We Italians feel all over the place. It's in our blood. We feel, we worry, we eat pasta, we drink copious amounts of wine, and we shoot things to defend our family honor."
I sighed and moved to the bed so I could lie by his side. "And what is this Italian feeling right this moment?"
Sergio let out a long sigh. "A bit helpless."
"Well, you do have a few holes in your body."
"I couldn't care less about the gunshots or the pain or almost dying."
I knew what was coming. I even closed my eyes, thinking it would help the impact of the words.
"I'm really not a match?" he whispered, releasing my hand and rubbing his fingertips up and down my arm.
I shook my head, not trusting myself.
His hand paused. "I believed it. I seriously believed it, Andi. I thought maybe if I believed it hard enough, it would make it true."
I glanced up at him through hooded lashes. "Sergio, you can't save the world."
"I don't want to save the world — I just want to save you."
I pressed my palm against his chest. I could feel the heat of his body through the hospital gown, his heartbeat steady.
"Do you think you can miss people? Even when you die?" I blurted. "Because I can't imagine not missing you."
"Andi—" Sergio pressed a kiss to my forehead. "—it's only over when it's over, right? Until then, you fight, and I'll fight right alongside you."
"A lot of good that will do me. You're basically handicapped. "I winked.
He chuckled low in his throat and ran his fingers through my hair.
"Italy?"
"Hmm?"
"I'm glad we didn't blow you up."
"You really know how to romance a man," he teased.
I rolled my eyes. "Please, your idea of romance is using family members as target practice then washing down the blood with a large glass of wine."
"Look who's talking, bloodthirsty little Russian."
I smiled against his chest. My cheek pressed against him, just wishing the moment would last forever. "You should sleep."
He wrapped his arms around my body. "Only if you stay with me."
"Where else would I go?"
He tensed.
I tensed right along with him.
Because we both knew… eventually, I would go — and neither of us could stop it.
Sergio
I WOKE UP IN A COLD SWEAT
. Probably one of the worst ways to wake up, in a pool of water that came from your body. I shuddered then tried to nudge Andi awake so she could at least shower.
"Andi," I whispered, "wake up."
She didn't move.
"Andi?"
Still no movement. I felt for a pulse, like a complete psycho. Her heart was beating, but it wasn't strong.
I hit my call button twice, three times. A nurse came walking in like she had all the time in the world.
"My wife!" I yelled. "She's — something's wrong! She has leukemia, and she's not waking up."
The nurse took Andi's pulse.
I gritted my teeth, wanting to yell that I'd already done that.
She nodded then felt Andi's forehead. "She's burning up. Has she been sick recently?"
What was I supposed to say?
"No, but she did survive an explosion and a fun day of being held at gunpoint, so it wouldn't surprise me if her immunity is a bit low."
"No," I lied. "She's been just fine, other than the dizzy spells."
The nurse pressed a button on the side of my bed; two more nurses walked in followed by another nurse with a gurney. "Wait, where are you taking her?"
"Mr. Abandonato, you've been through a lot in the past day. Try to stay calm. We're putting her in her own room, and I'll be contacting the doctor on call. She's fine, she's breathing, she's okay, but for now, I need you to concentrate on getting well."
"But—"
"—for your wife," the nurse said.
I lay back down and frowned when I realized, it wasn't me sweating. It was Andi.
We were in a pool of her sweat. Not mine.
"Just try to stay calm." The nurse patted my hand. If one more person gave me that pitiful look, I was going to lose my shit.
Thankfully, Nixon had chosen that perfect moment to walk in. "What the hell's going on?"
"It's Andi." My voice cracked. "I think something's wrong."
I lifted my hands in the air to brace my head, but they were shaking so bad I realized it wouldn't do me any good.
"Serg…" Nixon was immediately at my bedside. "…I'll go with her, alright? Just try not to think of the worst. I'll send someone to sit with you."
"I'm not an invalid."
"No..." Nixon let out a choke of laughter. "…but I know you. The minute she's out of here you're going to try to get out of bed and follow. Stay. She needs you to heal, alright?"
I said nothing.
"Serg… promise me."
I gave him a curt nod.
Two hours later, and I still hadn't heard from Nixon or from the nurse. I was ready to lose my mind.
Things got progressively worse when Phoenix, Chase, and Tex all showed up as reinforcements.
"Housekeeping…" Chase said in a high-pitched voice. "You want me fluff pillow?"
I chucked my pillow at the door just as he waltzed in with the coffee and food he'd promised everyone. I wasn't allowed coffee on account my ass had been so dehydrated, but I did want food — anything to take my mind off Andi being in another room. Andi waking up without me. Andi thinking I wasn't there.
"Shit." I pounded the bed with my fist; my eyes filled with tears again. I'd never been an overly emotional guy — in fact, I'm pretty sure every single member of my family assumed I'd up and shot myself in the heart to keep from feeling any sort of emotion.
But with Andi? I found myself constantly on the verge of tears, always wondering if that last kiss would be the last, and trying to selfishly hold onto it as long as humanly possible.
"You look like hell..." Chase placed a small bag on my tray. "…which is why I brought you two muffins, muffin."
"Call me muffin again."
Tex made his way over to the bed and pulled out a chair. "Do it, Chase. I wanna see how fast he can move with three bullet wounds."
I flipped them both off.
Phoenix was on the phone talking quietly in the corner. I nodded in his direction. "What's with him?"
"Phoenix is having a hell of a time telling his wife that it's not okay for her to participate in sparring with Trace while pregnant." Chase took a giant bite out of his own muffin and shrugged. "I say good luck with that."
Phoenix ended the phone call and gripped the cell in his hand, glaring at all three of us like it was our fault he couldn't control his wife.
"Trace will go easy on her," I said helpfully. "She's not going to kick her or anything. The girls aren't stupid, and you know Bee
,
she has too much energy. You tell her no, she'll just keep asking until you say yes."
Phoenix pinched the bridge of his nose. "Sometimes I forget how young she is… and immature."
Tex snorted. "I don't. That's my sister you're screwing."
"Get over it," Phoenix snapped then sighed. "Sorry, Tex, not your fault. I'm just worried about her."
"That makes you a good husband," Chase piped up. "Worry."
"I hate worry," I grumbled, the muffin suddenly going dry in my throat.
The guys gave me that look — the same look I was sure doctors gave their patients just before they were about to tell them there was nothing they could do. It sucked balls.
The door to my room opened. I straightened a bit, hoping it was the nurse. I was pleasantly surprised when it was Andi who walked in, though she was connected to an IV.
"Hey." She gave me a small smile and cleared her throat, arching her eyebrows at each of the guys.
"Uh…" Tex scratched his head and stood. "…I'll just go… to the bathroom."
"Me too." Phoenix followed him.
Chase remained.
Andi cleared her throat again.
Chase leveled her with a glare. "What you gonna do? Drop kick my ass?"
I sighed. "Chase, just go. She'll beat you up later."
He stood, albeit slowly, and patted me on the leg then walked out of the room.
"How are you?" I blurted.
Andi shrugged. Her face was pale; her smile a bit weak. Her bruising looked like shit around her face, but she was still beautiful to me. Always beautiful.
I patted the bed.
She took a seat, rolling the IV with her. "I need blood transfusions three times a week."
"Okay," I said slowly. "I'm assuming that's good, right?"
She looked down at the ground. "No… I mean it sounds good, right? Fresh blood!" Her shoulders sagged. "But typically, in a case like mine it just means the end is—" She swallowed. "—close."
I reached for her hand. She pulled away. "You don't have to go through this with me, Sergio. If you want me to leave, if it's too hard, I would understand." Her eyes filled with tears. "I swear to you, I'd get it if you want me to just stay at the hospital until the end."
"Hell no!" I yelled, gripping her hand, pulling her as close as I could without hurting her. "I'm with you until the end, whatever that means for us. I'm here."
She nodded. A tear fell down her cheek. "They said I can stay here, or we can do hospice, and when I heard the word hospice I just freaked. I mean, I thought I had come to this place where my heart and my head were one. But now? Now it just sucks, Sergio. And I want to stay positive. I want to be happy. For you I want to be those things, but I need at least an hour where you let me cry."
My heart shattered.
"Please," she pleaded. "I can be strong the rest of the time. I can be optimistic. I can be happy — because honestly, that's how I've always been, but I think… I think I need to grieve first. I need to grieve over us. I need to grieve over what should have been — what could have been."
My eyes were so blurred with tears I couldn't make out her small form. "Come here," I whispered.
She burst into tears and crawled into me, her tiny body sitting halfway across my body as I held her tightly.
"I love you, you know." She sobbed into my chest. "You're the best friend I've ever had."
"You're my best friend too." My voice cracked. I needed to be strong for her; this was not the time for me to cry. I'd do plenty of that, I imagined, in my future. But for now... I was going to be her rock. "I've never had one of those before. Does this mean we get to exchange bracelets or something?"
Her sob turned into a laugh. "Yeah, I'll be sure to get one made."
"You do that." I squeezed her tight and kissed her head. "Cry as hard and as long as you want, and when you're done, if you have to cry some more, that's okay."