Page 119 of Precious Hazard

“I’ll kill Drago!”

What?

“I swear, if you don’t open your eyes, I’ll kill your brother.” His voice shakes so much that it’s definitely breaking. Kinda puts a damper on the threatening vibe.

“You’re… full of shit, Arturo,” I whisper, lifting my lids just a crack.

“I know.” He nods.

His face is so close. Right in front of mine. Swaying a little. I must be imagining things because his eyes are red and puffy, and it looks like there’s moisture on his cheeks.

My hand feels as if it weighs a ton, but with the last speck of my strength, I raise it. Trace my fingers across the whisker-roughened skin. Itiswet.

“Why are you crying?”

He smiles. A sad smile. A smile that never reaches his dark, glossy eyes.

“I can’t imagine my life without you,gattina. Please, don’t leave me,” he rasps.

My fingers feather over his lips, over that soft little smile. A smile that I wanted to be part of my very own happily ever after.

“Your shiny armor is showing,” I whisper just as the lights go out.

One minute and forty-seven seconds.

Eternity.

That’s the span of time I burned in hell as my wife lay dead on the operating table after she flatlined. Until CPR and epinephrine restarted her heart. Until mine resumed its beating.

She died.

My wife died.

“I need a clamp. Now!” Ilaria’s voice booms across the operating room. “Shit. She’s bleeding too much. We’ll need another bag of O neg.”

“That’s the last one we have, doctor.”

My head snaps toward the nurse who uttered those words. “What?”

“We used up our supply on Riggo. He was crashing, so there was no time to get him tested before he was rushed into the OR.”

“Then test Tara and give her the right blood!”

“We already did. She’s O negative. She can’t receive any other type.”

O negative.Like me. “Get the blood extraction kit,” I bark. “You’re going to take my blood and give it to her.”

“Direct blood transfusions are not done, Mr. DeVille. It’s too risky. The donated blood needs to be tested and processed before it can be given to the patient.”

“More risky thanmy wifedying of blood loss?” I roar. “Bring the kit!”

“Doc?” She throws a scared look at Ilaria.

“Do it,” Ilaria says without taking attention off her work. “Just one unit. He’s wounded too and can’t give more than that.”

I drop into the chair after dragging it to the observation window overlooking the OR so I can continue watching over Tara on the operating table and then start rolling up my sleeves. A technician rushes in, bringing the necessary supplies for blood collection. Once everything is set up and she has me prepped, she inserts the needle into a vein in my left arm. The blood starts flowing, and she’s just about to take off when I extend my other arm.

“Now, the right one,” I order.