Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Saverio

I ’m awake, but I wish to God I wasn’t.

My back is on fire and my brain is about to explode. The pressure in my head is relentless. It makes me want to drive a screwdriver through my skull to decompress. I can only open one eye. I pat my face, fingers probing. My fingertips brush over gauze taped over the right side. Despite the dimness of the ceiling bulb, the light hurts my retina.

“Mr. De Luca.”

The sound comes from my left. I turn my face that way. In my right ear, I hear nothing.

A slender man in a white overcoat steps up. “I’m Dr. Loter, the head of the surgical team who operated on you.”

“What’s wrong with me?”

“You’re a very lucky man, Mr. De Luca. Few people in your situation would be alive.”

“Anya.” I fight to sit up. “The baby.”

“You just came out of surgery.” The doctor pushes me down. “You have to stay calm.”

Calm isn’t in the cards. Not until I know she’s all right. She and the baby.

“Where’s my wife?”

“In a recovery room in the maternity wing.”

“The baby.”

“It’s a girl. She’s premature but healthy.”

I go still at that.

A girl.

A baby girl. Not a boy like I thought.

Fuck, Anya was right.

My insides twist together but not from the pain. Wonder, joy, elation, and a huge fucking heap of fear assault me. “I want to see them.”

“You’ve been in an explosion.”

“I know what happened to me,” I snap.

“You’re in the ICU. I have to make sure your vitals remain stable, and then we can arrange a visit with your wife.”

“What’s the damage?”

“Extensive.”

I remain quiet, appreciating his directness.

“You have twelve gunshot wounds. Eleven bullets barely missed several organs. Two were less than an inch from your heart. One lodged in your kidney. We couldn’t save it. CT scans revealed bilateral hemothorax and shrapnel in-situ between the pericardium and aortic arch as well as in the abdomen. A laparotomy showed a perforated stomach, gall bladder, and punctured liver. We managed to stop the internal hemorrhage with temporary liver packing. Gastric and gall bladder wall repairs were made. You suffer from second degree burn wounds on your shoulders and back. A shard of metal pierced the back of your right knee, resulting in a knee joint fracture and neurovascular damage. Intensive outpatient physiotherapy will be necessary. The right side of your face was severely hit. There’s ossicular damage to your right ear, which may result in permanent hearing loss. We had to remove the right eye.”

The news is like blows raining down on my head. “Is any part of me whole?”

“As I said, you’re lucky to be alive.”

“I’m half-blind, half-deaf, half-cripple, and my organs resemble sieves.”

What good is half a man to anyone? What do I have left to offer Anya? I sure as hell am not fit to protect her.

He pats my shoulder. “Depending on your progress and if infection doesn’t set in, we’re looking at a discharge date of as early as a month.” He studies the monitors next to the bed with an impersonal smile. “Everything looks good. If you feel strong enough, I can send your wife up. She’s anxious to see you.”

“No,” I say, my tone clipped.

Giving me a surprised look, he says, “A moment ago, you were eager.”

“I changed my mind. She doesn’t need to see me like this.”

He frowns. “Mr. De Luca, you saved her and the baby’s lives. She’d want to assure herself that you’re fine.”

“No.” My answer is harsh. “There’s no need to submit her to more horror.”

Bafflement washes over his features. “If that’s what you wish.” He continues in a professional tone. “How’s your pain? I can up the morphine if necessary.”

Angry at fate, I say with a cold smile, “I don’t feel a thing.”

As far as sentiments go, that just about sums it up. Except for the anger, everything inside me is cold. Numb.

“I’ll check on you before my shift ends.” He hesitates. “The fact that you’re breathing, Mr. De Luca, is nothing short of a miracle. When the shock wears off and you’ve had time to come to terms with your injuries, you’ll be grateful for that.”

He walks to the door, and then I’m alone.

He’s wrong.

I’ll never be grateful for being half the man I used to be. The only thing I’m grateful for is that Anya is alive and that she had a healthy baby girl.

As far as the rest goes, both of us would’ve been better off if I were dead.