Donati Bloodlines: The Complete Trilogy by Bethany-Kris

Author:Bethany-Kris [Bethany-Kris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bethany-Kris
Published: 2017-07-09T16:00:00+00:00

“Have two bags of O-neg on standby,” the paramedic barked into the phone.

Calisto choked on his air, unable to catch a proper breath. Other than the paramedics in the ambulance, there was no one else to see his breakdown or the tears streaking down his cheeks.

He hadn’t been wrong.

He wished he was.

Calisto found Emma on the cold, slush-covered pavement of the back parking lot. She’d been listless and bloodstained, her pretty face marked by someone’s hands. Her enforcer had taken a bullet directly between the eyes, while she had taken a beating like no other.

So wrong.

“Possible skull fracture,” he heard one of paramedics say.

“Get her eyes open. We need response there.”

Calisto watched, stricken and useless, as a small light was flashed in front of Emma’s eyes. Cosa Nostra would never have done this to a woman. They wouldn’t haven’t beaten her black and blue and left her for dead. Wives of made men were held above others—given more respect than other people.

What had Emma done to deserve this?

Calisto clenched his hands into tight little balls, wishing his panic would ebb just enough to let him think and breathe. He had been allowed to get inside the ambulance, but he was made to stay back in the corner, out of the way, as the paramedic worked and the other drove like he was trying to race death.

In a way, Calisto supposed they were.

Around Emma’s pale neck, red, angry bruises had begun to form. The shape of someone’s palms and fingers had wrapped her throat and squeezed hard enough to leave marks behind.

Someone choked her.

He was so fucking angry.

He was angry with himself for failing her. For being wrong. For messing up.

Calisto had given whoever had done this to Emma a head-start on the beating. She’d been outside for at least three to five minutes before he realized his error in sending her out the back and not Affonso.

It might as well have been his goddamn fist.

His hands around her neck.

Calisto stared down at his palms, his breathing shallow and ragged. Emma’s blood had stained his hands and his clothes when he had fallen at her side and pulled her from the ground. He didn’t remember a whole lot, but he remembered aching inside.

So much pain.

He remembered apologizing, and asking her to open her eyes.

Calisto got nothing.

It was only a minute before someone came out after him through the backdoor of the club. It took every ounce of willpower he had to act like everything that mattered to him wasn’t bleeding and unconscious in his arms.

“Do you need a fucking Ativan?” the paramedic asked sharply.

Calisto blinked out of his daze, finding the paramedic watching him. “N-no.”

“She’s got air. Her heart is beating. She’s got pupil response. She took one hell of a beating, man, but she’s going to be okay. The blood loss came from that nasty cut on her head. Head wounds bleed the worst of them all. Whoever did this must have snapped her skull into the pavement a couple of times.

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