Pain yanked me back to consciousness like a knife twisting in my guts.
I gasped sharply, eyes flying open. The ceiling above me was cracked concrete stained with water marks and god knows what else. The air smelled like antiseptic mixed with piss and rust. My whole body felt like it had been run over by a truck, then shot again for good measure.
“Easy there, tough guy. Don’t rip those stitches open already.”
A woman’s voice, the same one from the dock, cut through the fog. I turned my head slowly, wincing as fresh agony flared across my chest and stomach. She stood beside a rickety metal table that served as my bed, wiping her hands on a towel. Mid-thirties, sharp features, dark hair pulled into a messy ponytail, wearing blood-stained scrubs. Her eyes were tired but alert.
“Who the fuck are you?” I croaked, my throat raw. Every word hurt.
“Dr. Maria Reyes. You can call me Doc. And you’re lucky as hell I was out there tonight checking on another patient. Most people don’t survive two bullets and a dockside beating.” She poured some water into a cracked cup and held it to my lips. “Small sips. You lost a lot of blood.”
I drank greedily, the cool liquid burning down my throat. “Why help me? You know who I am?”
She smirked, setting the cup down. “Damien Vale. Rossi family’s golden enforcer… or former, I guess. Word travels fast on the streets. Isabella and her daddy made quite the show tonight. Half the underground already thinks you’re fish food.”
I tried to sit up. Pain exploded through me and I nearly blacked out again. Doc pushed me back down firmly, her hands surprisingly strong.
“Stay the fuck down or I’ll sedate your ass. I didn’t drag you through three alleys and stitch you up just so you can die from stupidity.”
“How bad?” I asked through gritted teeth.
“Bad. One bullet nicked a rib, the other went through your side. Missed anything vital by centimeters. You’ll live, but you’re going to feel like shit for weeks.” She crossed her arms, studying me. “You got a death wish or something? Most men who get dumped by Isabella Rossi don’t come back from that.”
Rage boiled up fresh, mixing with the pain. “This isn’t over. Not by a long shot.”
Doc laughed bitterly. “Spoken like a man with nothing left to lose. Look, I patched you up because I owed a favor to someone who owed you one. But this place isn’t safe. Rossi’s people are already sniffing around the docks looking for confirmation you’re dead.”
As if on cue, heavy knocking pounded on the metal door at the far end of the dingy room. Three sharp bangs.
“Open up, Doc! We know you got someone in there!”
Doc’s face hardened. She grabbed a pistol from the drawer and checked the chamber. “Stay quiet. Let me handle this.”
I ignored her, forcing myself to swing my legs off the table despite the fire ripping through my body. The room spun. I grabbed the edge to steady myself, spotting a bloody scalpel on the tray next to me. My fingers closed around it.
The knocking turned into kicking. The door rattled violently.
“Last chance, bitch! Don Rossi wants the body if it’s still warm!”
Doc cursed under her breath and moved toward the door. Before she could reach it, the lock gave way with a loud crack. Two men burst in, Rossi enforcers I recognized. Low-level guys. The bigger one, Tony, had a shotgun raised.
“Well, well,” Tony sneered, spotting me. “Look who’s still breathing. Boss is gonna love this.”
The second guy grinned, pulling out a knife. “Isabella said to make it slow if he was alive.”
Doc raised her pistol. “Get the fuck out of my clinic.”
Tony laughed. “Put that down, Doc. You know better than to interfere with family business.”
I didn’t wait. Adrenaline surged through the pain as I lunged forward, scalpel in hand. My body screamed but I moved anyway. I slammed into Tony from the side, driving the scalpel deep into his throat before he could swing the shotgun.
Blood sprayed hot across my face. He gurgled, eyes wide with shock, and dropped the gun. The second guy turned toward me but I was already moving, fueled by pure fucking hate. I grabbed his knife arm, twisted hard, and drove my fist into his face twice. Bone crunched.
“You tell Isabella,” I growled, voice low and shaking with rage, “that I’m coming for every last one of you.”
I wrenched the knife from his hand and buried it in his chest. He slumped to the floor beside his partner.
The room fell silent except for my ragged breathing and the drip of blood on concrete.
Doc lowered her pistol slowly, staring at the two dead men, then at me. “Jesus Christ… you’re not even fully stitched and you’re already killing people in my clinic.”
I wiped blood from my face with the back of my hand, swaying on my feet. “They came looking for me. Now they found me.”
She shook her head, moving quickly to start cleaning up. “You’re going to bring a war to my doorstep. I should’ve let you bleed out on that dock.”
“But you didn’t.” I met her eyes, pain and exhaustion crashing over me now that the adrenaline was fading. “I need a safe place to heal. And I need information. You help me, and I’ll make sure you’re protected when I start tearing their world apart.”
Doc stared at me for a long moment, then sighed heavily. “You’re either the stupidest man alive or the most dangerous. Fine. I’ve got a back room. But you owe me, Vale. Big time.”
I nodded, collapsing back onto the table as fresh blood seeped through my bandages. The pain was brutal, but the fire in my chest burned hotter.
Isabella thought she killed me.
She had no idea what she’d just unleashed.
As Doc started re-stitching me while muttering curses, my mind raced with plans. I needed to contact my last loyal friend. I needed weapons. I needed to heal fast.
But most of all, I needed to make them all pay.
The sound of sirens wailed faintly in the distance. Doc froze.
“Shit. Someone must have heard the commotion. We need to move you now.”