Thirty Nine

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Kate

The hospital trip had confirmed some important things. One being that I did have cracked ribs, and that when I am presented before a doctor someone always gets hurt. This time it wasn't even my fault. Sergio and the doctor had actually gotten into a disagreement.

From the moment we walked in the doctor was being short and crude with us. As it turns out, it was because he knew who Sergio was.

News had traveled quite quickly that the Genovese and Moretti were now at war, the hospital we were in, despite having been here just a month ago for my hand, was apparently Moretti territory. Sergio was a Genovese. That was a problem.

The doctor had been pretty rude and when they were arguing about whether or not I needed an IV the doctor casually pushed his lab coat aside to reveal his own gun things got even more out of hand. Sergio had insisted I see a different doctor but he wouldn't budge.

The doctor left with a broken nose and Sergio came dangerously close to getting a bullet through his arm in the struggle but at least I had gotten a different doctor. And pain pills. Niiice pain pills. As promised.

I fiddled with Roary, the Beanie Baby Lion in my hand as I leaned back on a mountain of pillows on the couch. Fun thing about cracked ribs, laying flat. Definite no-no. When I was younger after a trip to the doctors Dad would always get me a beanie baby to praise my good behavior, despite the fact that I never had good behavior at the doctors. In my drugged up state I had told Sergio this and he had bought me Roary.

Sergio was pacing the room back and forth on the house phone talking in a low voice in Italian. I hadn't the slightest clue who he was even talking to.

I read the TY tag in my hand to pass the time. Roary was apparently a cowardly lion, ran from his own roar. What a silly lion.

Sergio finally hung up the phone and turned to me. "Alessio is on some sort of rampage. He can't find you, he's not used to not getting his way you know."

"Trust me...I know." He had had his cake and was eating it too all this time. He always got his way.

"Are you alright?"

"Nope." I admitted with no hesitation and the looked up to Sergio again. "Can we wrap my chest?"

"The doctor said no."

"The doctor said they used to do it to help pain."

"And that it was bad for your lungs, which might I add need all the stimulation they can get after the whole you know, drowning thing."

"But it hurts!" I whined.

"Should I get you a sippy cup and binky while I'm out?"

"Out?"

"Yeah. Some diapers too?"

"You're leaving?"

He watched me for a few moments. "I have to go pick up your pain pills."

"You could get me the wrap too while you're out." I suggested hopefully and he chuckled.

We had actually already picked up some Tylenol. They had given me something stronger at the hospital but refused to write any sort of prescription. Sergio had told me he wasn't a part of the Mafia, but he apparently housed some of the same connections. If I had to guess, they were mostly through the Moretti family.

"Sergio?"

"Mm." He grumbled inaudible in response.

"Are you, erm, are you staying? Here with me that is." I said and flushed. It was bad enough I was wearing Sergio's clothes but now I was asking him to stay with me as well. My own clothes had been soaked and even when they'd dried had felt stiff and uncomfortable. He had a gym bag in his truck and had given me a pair of, thankfully clean, gym shorts and a black tank that was much too big on me.

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