The Mafia's Undoing-Chapter 46: Wounds

The paramedic’s hands were efficient and clinical as he cleaned the wound. However, my hands won’t stop shaking.

"Come on. Come on!" And I push them through will power alone: the gauze against the angry red ridge of skin the bullet carved along Tony’s ribs. The bullet passed from his left side through his back - six inches of ripped skin that could have been six inches deeper, could have damaged his lungs, his heart, killed him while he was protecting me.

"Pressure’s good," the paramedic reassures him. "You’re doing fine, ma’am."

Ma’am? Like this is normal, like the man I love didn’t just take a bullet meant for me."

Tony sits on the kitchen chair, bare-chested, and grimaces in silent pain. His tattooed torso is a map of violence: the direction sign on his shoulder, the numbers along his ribs (which are presently concealed beneath the mask of blood), the crest of the Marvin family brands across the width of his torso. And now this scar.

"How many times?" I whisper.

Tony’s green eyes lock with mine. "What?"

"How many times have you been shot?"

He pause. The paramedic looks up curiously as well.

"That’s four times," Tony finally says. "First one was my shoulder when I was nineteen years old. An initiation accident, two and three, both legs. Different occasions, different idiots." 𝐟𝕣𝗲𝕖𝕨𝗲𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝗲𝚕.𝗰𝚘𝐦

Four times. He says this as if it’s no big deal, as if being shot is part of the job description.

The paramedic completes the cleaning and begins prepping sutures. "You’re lucky. Another inch to the right and we’d be doing this in an OR."

"Luck had nothing to do with it." Tony’s eyes didn’t leave mine. "I knew exactly where I needed to be."

Between the bullet and me. Always in danger, and me.

"Mr. Marvin, I recommend hospital follow-up," the paramedic goes on, threading the curved needle. "Risks of infection-"

"No hospital."

"Thomas has a private doctor. He’ll handle follow-up. Tony’s voice held no inflection - no emotion.

The paramedic looks at his partner but doesn’t dispute. Clearly, the two of them understand the ways of the Marvin family.

I watch the needle pierce Tony’s skin, no flinch from him as the paramedic starts to sew him up. Twelve stitches later: neat and precise. Tony’s breathing stays even and controlled, as if he’s divorced himself from the pain.

"All set". The paramedic applies bandages to the injured arm and secures them with tape. "You’ll need to keep it dry for the next 48 hours. Change the dressings twice a day, look out for infection symptoms- redness, swelling, fever. Here’s a prescription for antibiotics and pain medication."

Tony takes the paper and nods, but doesn’t say thanks. The paramedics pack up their things efficiently, accustomed to their clients’ lack of thanks, and Morrison leads them out.

The house feels emptier than before they departed.

Thomas appeared in the doorway holding the phone. "Dr. Zhang is on his way. ETA twenty minutes."

He examines his son sternly. "You look like hell."

"Feel fantastic," Tony deadpans

"Katherine." Thomas’s gaze returns to me. His gray eyes are gentle-looking. "How are you holding up?"

"I’m fine." I lie.

Thomas sees right through it immediately, but doesn’t pry. "Elliot’s here. He’s been brought in by the FBI and is asking to see you."

My brother. I’d almost forgotten in the mess.

"Bring him in," Tony says before I can react. "Time he and I met properly anyway."

Thomas nods and disappears. He’s right back with Elliot, who’s holding his laptop in front of him like a shield and scanning the area nervously. He takes in the sight of the blood-soaked floor, the wounded Tony, and my bloody hands.

"Katherine."

Elliot doesn’t make eye contact, but his voice trembles with emotion. "Are you hurt?"

"I’m okay, El." I walk towards him, and he reluctantly lets me hug him. This is a struggle for him because of the physical interaction. However, this is part of him letting me in. "I’m not hurt."

"Tony Marvin was shot protecting you." This isn’t a question. Elliot already has the scene figured out. "Bullet trajectory, blood spatter pattern, positioning of bodies - he intercepted the shot."

"Yes." I look at Tony who’s observing this interaction. "He did."

Elliot finally looks at Tony, his gaze snapping across his face before settling on the tattoos, which were safer than direct eye contact. "Thanks for protecting my sister," Elliot says.

Tony’s face softens slightly. "You’re not thanking me for that, Elliot. It’s not even a choice."

"Still." Elliot shifts his weight uneasily. "I’m the reason she’s in danger. Helped Angelo track your whereabouts. I need to fix that." He holds up his laptop. "I can find who Vincent has been feeding information to besides Angelo. Track his communication trail, see where the digital crumbs lead. That’s what I do."

"You made a mistake," Tony said, his voice devoid of judgment. Only truth. "You fix it by helping us. That’s the way it works."

There’s a release of tension in Elliot’s posture. He nods and opens his laptop, immersing himself in the data displayed.

Thomas receives a phone call. He moves to the side to speak in hushed tones, and I can hear him through the murmured whispers: "...total security revamp...Vincent blew everything...need new protocols..."

The reality sinks in slowly, heavily. Vincent has known about everything. All the safe houses, the security arrangements, the contingency plans. He’s been informing Angelo of every step we take for two years. And Angelo of whatever "M" might be.

"We’re not safe anywhere Vincent knew about. Which means we’re not safe anywhere."

Dr. Zhang arrives - a thin man in his sixties with no questions and hands that are rock-steady. He looks at the wound professionally, nods in approval at the paramedic’s work, and gives Tony the antibiotics by injection.

"Clean it twice a day with this." He hands me the supplies. "Change the bandages. And if you notice fever, additional pain, or discharge - call me right away."

He eyes Tony. "And take actual rest. Your body must heal."

Tony grunts something noncommittal.

The next hour becomes a blur of activity. Luca arrives with three of his men to provide aid with the security overhaul. Thomas coordinates the effort through the remaining trusted personnel whom Vincent never had access to. Morrison examines each of them and promises them federal security protection, which will prove insufficient.

Elliot works anonymously in the corner of the room, typing intently at his keyboard while muttering about encryption and server routes.

And then I’m sitting beside Tony, my hand resting against his unbroken side, anchoring myself in the warmth of him.

Finally, they leave one by one. Thomas to oversee security. Luca is to enforce the new guidelines. Morrison to handle the arrest of Vincent. And Elliot, who reluctantly agrees to FBI protective custody at the secure hotel. He’ll continue to work remotely.

Finally, there’s Tony and me in the brownstone when things no longer feel safe there.