Red

C H A P T E R E I G H T E E N

I woke up gasping for air having had the same reoccurring nightmare that I’ve experienced since I was five. My nightmares always forced me to relive the precise moment the dagger ripped through my flesh.

Sweat laced my chest, my collarbone sticky and shiny. A quick glance at my phone told me it was three in the morning and I dropped back down on my pillow, breathing heavy until a rattle from my kitchen made me shoot upwards again.

I slipped my hand beneath my pillow, feeling for my knife but it was gone. My heart plummeted to the floor as more sounds invaded my home.

I picked up my white cropped top ball from the floor and pulled it on over my bare breasts. Stealthily creeping out towards the light of my kitchen.

“So much for anonymity.” I spoke aloud as I spied Ace sitting at my kitchen counter, first aid kit sprawled out and blood smeared over the counter tops.

His blue eyes drifted towards me but with a dish towel in his mouth he didn’t answer. He just paused the tweezers inside a bullet wound to his left shoulder. His face was paler than usual and his shirt was covered in blood. He dropped the dish towel from his mouth.

“I’m the fucking mafia boss Red, you really think I’m not going to background check every person who walks through my door?” I didn’t reply. “I don’t trust you and I don’t trust you even more now that I’ve pulled up your squeaky clean record, at least leave a few parking tickets on there.” His voice spoke through a hiss of pained words, it was sexy.

“What are you doing here Ace?” He looked down at his shoulder which was pissing with blood and then shot me a sarcastic look. He pulled off his shirt completely and continued rummaging through the first aid kit.

I stepped closer to him and pushed my palm into the seeping bullet hole in his flesh, he winched. “Fuck!” He cussed out in a pained cry. “Bitch!”

“Careful!” I warned. “You come crawling to my house for help, go calling me names like that and I’ll toss your ass out on the street and let you bleed to death.”

He stood up straight and towered over me with his height, cornering me in against the wall. I could visibly see he was weakened and in pain, yet he kept up the hard faced pretence. He clutched his hand on my neck without squeezing.

“Disrespect me again and I will fuck that smart mouth of yours and then snap your neck in two.”

His voice deep, menacing and full of intimidation. I punched him lightly in the gut and he dropped his hand from my throat and coiled over in pain, groaning as he did so. I laughed.

“If only your men could see you now.” He glanced up at me, breathing heavily through his open mouth. I rolled my eyes at him. “Did you get the bullet out?” I asked, taking a proper look at his wound.

“I can’t reach it but it’s not deep, just a graze.” He played it down but that was ridiculous because there was blood everywhere and he needed this shit sorting right now before he lost too much.

Cold sweats had broken out on both his head and upper lip, his complexion was turning grey slowly and it was clear he was suffering but silently, he still kept the impassive expression on his face and held his posture stiff and straight.

I took the tweezers out of his hand, he watched me carefully, his eyes never leaving mine.

“Do you know if it was lead?” His eyebrows raised in suspicion. I glanced up at him, he was studying me so intensely, watching the cogs turn inside my head. I turned back to the wound immediately.

Ace hissed in pain as I dug the tweezers in and very carefully lifted the bullet from inside his body. I dropped it into a little porcelain bowl.

Golden not lead thankfully. Lead is lighter so would fragment more and cause wider internal injury. I didn’t recognise it as one of my fathers, he mostly always uses lead so it must belong to one of Nikolai’s guys.

“We’re gonna have to clean it up and then cauterize it, I’ve got antibacterial cream, it will have to do. We can use the back of a spoon to cauterize, it will hurt like hell but it will stop the bleeding.” I muttered to distract him from my insightful look at the bullet.

I could feel him assessing me silently as I dabbed the antiseptic covered cotton pad against his wound. Neither of us spoke as I heated up the spoon with the naked flame from a lighter and held it there for a good few minutes until steam started evaporating from the metal.

“You ready?” I asked and he nodded, not taking his eyes off the spoon. I pressed the hot, smooth surface against his skin and instantly he screwed his face up. His pained reaction completely amused me and he didn’t look too pleased when I smiled. His skin sizzled, chard and the disgusting wreak of burnt flesh filled the room. I applied more antiseptic cream.

“So who shot you?”

“Need-to-know-basis.” He fired back.

“You turn up at my door and expect my help, I think that warrants my need to know.” He shook his head.

“I didn’t need your help, I could’ve done this myself and I only turned up at your door because you lived close by. If any of the other girls lived close by I would’ve turned up at their door. Don’t think you’re anything special.” I pushed down on his wound and he hissed. “Fuck!” He cussed.

I threaded the needle with cotton and burnt the metal edges with a lighter to kill off any germs. His eyes widened as I brought it towards him. He pulled back slightly and then winced in pain.

“I don’t like needles.” He admitted sheepishly. I smirked at him.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He tilted his head and gave me a sarcastic stare, then I began sewing up the bullet hole that tore his flesh. He muttered profanities through gritted teeth.

“Oh hush, you big baby. It’s just a little bullet.” I sympathized sarcastically.

“It. fucking. hurts.” He complained.

Once I got done I placed a bandage over to keep things clean. “You’re all fixed.” I told him, tapping against the bandage once just to hear him cry out one last time in pain for my own enjoyment. I giggled to myself softly.

An awkward silence fell over us, it was filled with risk assessment and a wash of mistrust.

“Can I get you a drink or something to eat?” I spat out mega quickly, practically jogging to the other side of my kitchen counter to look in my knife drawer. My face fell when I noted it empty.

“I removed your knives.” He said from his seat as he pulled his shirt back on.

I ran my hand over the back of my kitchen cupboard, feeling for my hand pistol. It was gone.

“And your guns.” He pointed his chin towards the lounge “and the ones from in there too.” I folded my arms across my chest and glared at him. “You know, you’ve got 256 weapons hidden around this little apartment, a bit excessive for a server girl, no?”

I smiled, I had 300 weapons hidden. Somewhere he’d not found four. He smirked at me and there was a little twinkle in his eyes.

“Okay, clearly I missed some.” He chuckled out. “But still, I like my chances. I’ve got 256 weapons on me, you’ve got nothing.”

“New York is a big city, I like to be protected.” I shrugged, not at all intimated by this big softy.

He pulled out a semi-automatic gun, the one I usually kept hidden in the tank of my toilet and spun it around on his finger before pointing it at me.

I bit back a smile.