Incriminated (5 page)

Beeping. 
What the hell was that terrible beeping noise?
 As I became more aware of my surroundings I also became painfully aware of the throbbing in my skull. 
What the fuck is happening?
 I groaned and shifted a little, instantly noticing that something was incredibly wrong.

My eyes shot open and scanned the room, confused by the white curtain, pastel wallpaper and small TV perched on the wall. 
Hospital?
 I tried to sit up but was quickly pushed back down by a warm hand.

"Unh uh, toots. Relax, you need to give yourself a moment."

Frankie's voice was soft but firm, as his hand pulled away. My eyes instantly met his as different emotions floated through me. He seemed to understand the confusion, concern, and fear that he saw in my expression. Smiling, he pulled a chair up to the side of my bed and sat down, taking my hand in his.

"You had a nasty spill, doll. I guess that's the easiest way to put it. They told me not to stress you out too quick once you woke up, but I've never been one for beatin' around the bush. Do you remember anything?"

"You had just left the restaurant, Michael and I were locking up and then… Mrs. Genovese?"

"Good, seems like you aren't too out of it. Look, Gabriella, I don't want to scare you but I ain't keep anything from ya, alright? Michael is in here. That crazy broad was trying to shoot you; Michael knocked you out of the way and took the bullet. Got him right in the stomach."

His face was grim, and the tears formed in my eyes instantaneously. It was like an ongoing nightmare that I was never going to wake up from. The second any happiness came to me it was ripped away. Things had been going so well and now Michael…
Michael!

"Is he okay? What do you mean he got shot? For me? Frankie please tell me he's alright."

"Shh, bambina relax. He just got out of surgery a little while ago. The doctor says things look good, slow recovery but the bullet went straight through. They didn't find any fragments in him and it didn't hit any major organs. The kid's luckier than he fuckin' knows, hand to God. And all for you, piccolina. That boy loves you more than you know."

I nodded and hung my head, guilt forming in the pit of my stomach as I thought about how hard I had made him fight to prove that love to me. And now here he was in the hospital with a gunshot wound.

"Eh, look at me, bambina. I know that look, you're feelin' guilty. Knock it off, okay? I'm no idiot, Gabriella. I know exactly who that dame was and once we got you guys to the hospital I knew there was somethin' I was missin. That knucklehead doesn't give me credit for how smart I am, you know that? Thinks he learned all the bullshit he knows on his own." He laughed a little and shook his head, his eyes gazing off as if he were somewhere far away.

"I won't paint myself as a saint for you, I wasn't always the picturesque man you see before you." He winked before leaning back in his chair. "I use to work for Genovese—not as one of those idiot muscle men, but as a liaison to some other… families in the business. I won't say I don't have crimes on my hands, but I got out before things got too messy. Genovese… he wanted too much, ya know? Always messin' with good families. I didn't like it, not one bit. The racketeering, the illegal gambling… I could deal with it. But he was always messin’ with good businesses, families we had grown up with even! He tried to get me to stay, but I wasn't havin' it.”

“The day I left I swore off the whole lifestyle, moved my family to our home and never looked back. I always feel like I have a target on my back, but... no one ever comes.  When Michael's parents were killed, God bless their souls, I had an idea it had been Genovese—but never any proof. I mean, what better way to get back at me for leaving then killing my little brother, and his beautiful wife? But all this shit with you randomly showin' up, Michael suddenly rejoining the family… I knew somethin' was going on. And then wasn't that bitch the icing on the cake? I looked back at Genovese's death more critically, knowing what to look for now." His eyes found mine and took on a very serious expression, his hand gripping mine tightly.

"Michael killed him, didn't he?" he said quietly, though I could tell he already knew the answer. I swallowed hard and stared at him, before answering with a slow nod.

"And somehow you got mixed up in all of this? That's why that no good bitch was after you huh?"

I sighed and took a deep breath, before giving Frankie an abridged version of exactly what Michael and I had gone through. I explained what happened at the club the first time I met Genovese, explained how Michael had kidnapped me, how we lured Genovese, how he brought me to his apartment, how Michael had shown up that night and how Genovese had died. The whole time Frankie's jaw was tight, his eyes boring into mine.

"You got some serious gonads on you, you know that? The sheer fact that you dealt with all of that and somehow still get a smile on that pretty face when you see my nephew? Shit, the kid is lucky you haven't cut his dick off while he's sleepin’. Mother of God, how the fuck did he pull all this shit off?"

He shook his head and mumbled something under his breath before patting my hand in a fatherly manner.

"Well I think it'll make you happy to know the lunatic has already been locked up."

"She has? How long have I been out?"

"Less than a day, bambina. It's about 4 in the morning. I'm going to go check on Michael; I'll let the nurse know you're awake."

He offered me that handsome smile before sauntering out of the room. I took a deep breath, surprised by the tears that immediately begun to fall. She was going to go to prison. Michael was going to be okay. I was going to be okay.

Within ten minutes a plump, cheery older nurse with bright red hair came in. She checked my vitals and smiled widely, surprised by how quickly I was coming to. She pressed her hand to my face and turned it, alerting me to the stitches that ran from my forehead to my ear. Apparently I had hit a rock on the way down, big surprise there. Couldn't just fall and hit the grass, huh.

She helped me stand up and let me walk around the room for a few moments, making sure my balance was on point. Once she was comfortable she asked if I wanted to visit Michael. My eyes lit up at his name, and I nodded quickly.

"Alright dear, let me tie up that gown in the back and we'll get going." I dutifully turned and let her tighten the ties of my hospital gown before she slipped my IV onto a portable stand and led me to the ICU.

Anxiety gripped at me as we made our way through the halls. I knew Frankie had already told me that Michael would be okay, but the idea of having to see him in the hospital bed made my stomach churn. She stopped outside of the room and gestured towards the door, offering me a smile.

"You'll be alright, honey. Go on in."

I stepped into the room slowly and smiled at Frankie and Elena who were sitting on a small loveseat, wrapped in each other's arms. Elena offered me a small wave, while Frankie winked and gestured towards the bed. I turned slowly and let my eyes rake over Michael's form. His eyes were closed, and there was a small monitor next to him beeping at a slow pace. I moved towards the bed slowly, taking a seat on the edge. I had to choke back the tears, forcing myself to remember that he was going to be just fine.

I sat there for what seemed like hours, though I honestly had no idea of what time it was. Every now and then Elena or Frankie would leave the room, but they never spoke—they left me to contemplate the situation silently. After what had seemed like my fifteenth prayer, his eyes began to flutter.

"Frankie, Elena," I said in hushed, urgent tone. They immediately shot of the seat and moved to the other side of his bed, watching his face carefully. Michael's eyes opened slowly, fluttering as he tried to adjust to the light of the room. His eyes moved from face to face, before they stuck on mine. He stared at me quietly, an intensity burning in his expression that I couldn't place. Was he angry he saved me? Should I not be here?

As the panic began to grip me the corner of his lips turned up, causing my eyes to widen. 
Is he really smirking right now?

"Did I redeem myself yet?"

Within a week and a half Michael was released from the hospital, but was restricted to bed rest for another week before he could come back and have his wound checked. The doctor released him to me, and I rarely let him out of my site. We had to push back the opening of the restaurant, but I was able to handle all of that from my cellphone, by Michael's side.

We had tried sleeping in the same bed, but after my body had unintentionally found his in the middle of night and grabbed his wound, we moved him to the couch. I woke every day and made him breakfast, then we watched movies or TV together. Elena, Frankie, and Alice had become frequent visitors. Elena often brought lunch or dinner over, and they kept Michael company while I ran errands. Once the week was up I brought him back to the hospital, and was rewarded with a lift on the restriction. Michael still had to take it easy, but the wound was healing nicely and the doctor expected he'd back completely healed in another week or so.

We were walking through the parking garage, my hand wrapped around his waist when he suddenly stopped me and pulled me into his arms.

"Michael, we're in a parking garage. Just because the doctor said you don't have to stay in bed all day doesn't mean you get to frisk me in public,”  I scolded, only to be silenced by a searing kiss from him. When he pulled away I blinked rapidly, wondering how quickly we could get into the back of the SUV, preferably naked.

"Gabriella, you're it for me, you know that?" he sighed, his hand sliding up to cup my cheek.

"What are you talking about?"

"I mean you're fuckin' it for me! You're my girl, you're my life. I took a bullet for you; does that not spell it out for you?" He chuckled and shook his head, before sliding his other hand up to my face, holding it in place.

"Marry me."

"Marry you!?" I shot back, my head swimming with a million questions. Marry him? Did I want that? Did I want to marry someone I knew had killed more than one person? Did I want to marry someone that had held me hostage? But that wasn't the man in front of me anymore, I knew that. The man in front of me was sweet, smart, and business oriented. He was sexy, charming, and had a wonderful family that I considered myself part of.

"Am I speaking French, Gabriella? Yes. Marry me. Don't try to tell me you aren't sure, bambina, I know you are. You took care of me, you've stuck by me, and we’re opening a business together. Just let me put it on paper, let me put a ring on that finger and call you my wife," he urged, his hands moving down to my shoulders, gripping them gently.

"I … Michael, this is just so sudden. Can I think about this?" I looked away, hoping he wouldn't get upset. Instead I was answered with a chuckle, and his arm sliding down to my waist to pull me towards the car.

"Think about it all you want, Gabriella. But mark my words; you're going to be my wife." He smirked a little and plucked the keys from my hand, pushing me towards the passenger's side as he opened the door. I slid in silently, my eyes wide as I considered the weight of his question.

Mrs. Michael Russo, was I ready for that?

He began humming quietly to himself, slipping into the leather seat next to me before turning on the car. He pulled my hands into his lap and idly rubbed at my ring finger the whole ride home.

The last week before the opening had gone by in a blur. We spent hours making last minute preparations, hoping that the delayed opening wouldn't hurt us. Friday, the day of our opening I opened my eyes to a tray of food sitting on top of me and a smirking, shirtless Michael.

"Eat up, beautiful. Long day ahead of us."

He leaned down and kissed my forehead before walking out of the room. My brows furrowed a bit, wondering why he suddenly seemed so calm. I sat up and smiled a little at the spread before me. Eggs, pastries, bacon, juice, coffee… I had to admit it, when he tried—the guy was unstoppable. I ate quickly and pulled the tray off of me before slipping out of bed. I looked down at my body, not remembering when I had put his t-shirt on. Shrugging a bit I grabbed the empty plates and cups and headed towards the kitchen.

"So, the restaurant is only open 5pm-11pm tonight. I know you want to head over there and be there all day but you've done enough and I want you to go relax today, alright? I already made the spa appointment." He looked at me squarely, as if asking me to try and disobey him.

I froze for a moment, thinking back to the last spa appointment he had made me. As if he could read the fear on my face he sighed and took the plates from my hand, setting them on the counter. Once his hands were free he pulled me into his chest, his lips pressing against my hair.

"Gabriella, I know I can never say sorry enough times, but that part of our life is done. I'll never do anything to hurt you again." He pulled me back a little, his eyes locking on mine.

"I love you, alright? I love you more than anything I could ever love. You're all I think about, all I dream about—when that bitch aimed that gun at you... I didn't even have to think. I'd pick you every time, Gabriella." I could see expression in his eyes, he was resolute… this was real.

"I... I love you too."

I smiled, burying my face in his chest. That was all it took. The pressure that had been building in my chest day after day was suddenly gone, the stress was gone, the fear… gone. He loved me, I loved him, and this was it for us.

He reached down to grab my chin, tilting my head up.

"I've been waiting to hear those words… longer than I want to admit." And with that his lips were on mine. His kiss started full of love, sweet and tender… but soon turned feverish, and needy. I answered it eagerly, my arms sliding up around his neck. He growled a little against my lips and slipped his hands down to my ass, pulling me up until I wrapped my legs around his waist. I giggled against his lips, earning another growl as he carried me to my room.

He bent over the bed and laid me down, his lips pulling away from mine. His hands instantly went to the edge of the shirt that covered me, quickly pulling it up and over my body. Once it was off he stopped and stared at my naked form, his eyes raking over every inch of my skin.

"God, I'm never going to get used to how beautiful you are," he groaned, pushing his fingers through his hair as his eyes continued to ravish me. Without another word he leaned down and pressed his lips to collarbone, his breath tickling my skin. One of his hands slid down to grip mine, pinning it above my head quickly. I surrendered to him completely, and let him spend the better part of the morning showing me just how much he loved me.

"I'll be damned if another man ever gets to experience this with you," he whispered in my ear, falling to his side before pulling me into his arms.

The second the words were out of his mouth I realized, I didn't want that either.