Part 2: A Life Worth More Than Blood
Penny stared at him, rubbing her aching wrists.
"...Penelope Hayes."
Her voice cracked.
"I'm a trauma nurse."
Damian gave one slow nod, as though filing every word away.
"I know."
"No," she whispered. "You don't."
She climbed off the desk, legs still shaking from whatever drug Lorenzo had injected into her.
"I know how to stop bleeding."
She pointed toward herself.
"I know how to keep people alive."
Then she pointed toward the heavy library doors.
"I do not know anything about your family."
Damian watched her carefully.
"I believe you."
The words surprised her more than the kidnapping had.
Before she could answer, the silence exploded.
Three rapid gunshots echoed somewhere downstairs.
Then shouting.
Then another burst of automatic fire.
Every guard outside the library started yelling at once.
Damian's phone buzzed.
He answered immediately.
"What?"
Whoever spoke made every trace of calm disappear from his face.
His brother.
Penny heard only fragments.
"...warehouse..."
"...he's hit..."
"...losing blood..."
"...doctor's dead..."
Damian closed his eyes.
"Bring him here."
The mansion transformed into chaos.
Men carrying rifles ran through marble hallways.
Someone overturned a table.
Another man staggered through the front doors carrying a young man covered in blood.
He couldn't have been older than twenty-six.
Dark hair.
Same gray eyes as Damian.
A bullet wound low in his abdomen.
His shirt was soaked crimson.
"Matteo!"
Damian was already beside him.
"Stay awake."
Matteo tried to smile.
"I really... hate Tuesdays..."
Then he stopped responding.
One of the guards shouted,
"The doctor was killed during the ambush!"
Another yelled,
"We're forty minutes from anyone else."
Penny looked at the wound.
Then at the rapidly spreading blood beneath him.
Then at Damian.
"You have towels?"
Everyone stared at her.
"What?"
"Towels!" Penny shouted.
"And boiling water!"
Nobody moved.
She took one furious step forward.
"If you want him dead, keep staring at me!"
That finally worked.
Within seconds people scattered.
The mansion had luxury.
It did not have a trauma room.
Penny worked with whatever she could find.
Fresh towels.
Vodka from an antique liquor cabinet.
Dental floss from a guest bathroom.
A sewing needle sterilized over the fireplace.
Kitchen knives.
Flashlights.
She barked orders with absolute confidence.
"You."
She pointed at a six-foot-four enforcer.
"Press here."
He obeyed instantly.
"You."
Another guard.
"Boil more water."
"Now!"
Even Damian stopped questioning her.
She cleaned the wound.
Located the bullet.
Controlled the bleeding.
Every second mattered.
Matteo's pulse weakened beneath her fingers.
"Stay with me."
She slapped his cheek.
"You are not dying on my floor."
He groaned weakly.
"I don't... even live here..."
"Congratulations," Penny replied while digging deeper.
"You do now."
Several men actually laughed.
The tension broke for one brief moment.
Then Penny found the bullet.
She removed it.
The bleeding slowed.
Color returned to Matteo's face.
He breathed.
One long...
steady...
breath.
Silence filled the room.
One guard quietly whispered,
"Holy..."
Another crossed himself.
Damian never took his eyes off Penny.
Not once.
Hours later the sun began rising over Boston.
Golden light poured through enormous windows.
Penny finally sat down.
Every muscle hurt.
Her hands shook from exhaustion.
She looked at the blood covering her scrubs.
"I need a hospital."
She whispered it mostly to herself.
"And antibiotics."
Damian walked toward her.
For the first time since she'd met him, there was no coldness in his eyes.
Only gratitude.
And guilt.
"You saved my brother."
"I saved my patient."
"They're the same person."
"No."
She met his gaze.
"In my job..."
"...they always are."
Something inside Damian shifted.
May you like
Because nobody had spoken to him like that in years.
Perhaps ever.
