I drew back. Took in a breath. Switched from righty to lefty because I am the best damned switch-hitter in the league. I stepped into the swing this time, like a fastball coming right at me. I aimed and struck his knee. His leg went in the direction human legs weren’t meant to go. The howl that came from his mouth was unlike anything I had ever heard—or would ever hear again. High-pitched, guttural, strained. Career ending, really. I wanted to take out the other knee.
Sirens and blue lights split the air.Thatseemed to pull Ricky from whatever bloodlust had taken over. He hobbled on his one good leg and made a break for it, cutting through the cars and attempting to amble toward the trees. He wouldn’t get far. I let out a breath and dropped the bat. It sang something fierce as it bounced on the pavement.
The cruiser pulled up beside me and I saw a cop hop out of the car. He spoke into the radio strapped to his shoulder.
I dropped beside Alex.
So much blood. I couldn’t process what I was seeing.
His face had become pulp. If I didn’t know it was Alex, I wouldn’t have recognized him. Bruises covered every inch of his body. Blood. Blood everywhere. I put two fingers to the sides of his neck and felt a pulse. He moaned like he was stuck in a bad dream. Maybe he was. If only I could wake him from the nightmare.
I heard the officer radio for an ambulance. He asked me a few questions that I barely understood. One moment he was there, the next he was calling for backup as he chased after Ricky.
“Alex,” I said carefully and touched his face. He winced. “Alex. Alex you’re gonna be okay. It’s Rome. I’m here, all right? Ambulance is on its way. Alex?”
He gurgled as he tried to take in air.
I crossed myself. Said a Hail Mary as quick as a hummingbird’s beating heart. Said two more.
I kissed Alex’s forehead despite the blood everywhere. Sudden red lights washed over the parking lot followed by thewhoop-whoopannouncement of the sirens. Time blurred as paramedics rushed out from the open double doors. Someone peeled me off of Alex and assessed me while I sat on the ground. Alex was placed on a stretcher while I fought my way to my feet, determined to get in the back with him. Someone—I think it was the cop?—held me back.
I finally bellowed out for them to wait, then pulled the medal from around my neck. I fitted it over Alex’s head, onto his body. Saint Sebastian would need to watch over him while I couldn’t.
“He needs to go, too,” someone said. One of the paramedics who came back after loading Alex into the back. “Come on, Romo, we’ll get you patched up on the way there.”
He knew who I was. I nodded as they helped me climb in the back. My eyes found the officer. I said, “His brother will be here shortly. Can you stay and tell him when he gets here?”
“Sure thing, Romo.”
Another one who knew me.
My hand intertwined with Alex’s during the ride. The paramedic took care of me while another one started a line for Alex.
“He gonna be all right?” I asked as the paramedic applied butterfly bandages to the bleeding, split skin over my eyebrow.
“We’ll know once we get him in. Best not to think about that right now.”
My lower lip quivered. Squeezed my eyes shut.
“He’ll be all right,” I told myself, the answer the paramedic wassupposedto give. “I know he will.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Rome
SIXSTITCHES. THAT’Sall I needed. I looked and felt like I had gone through hell, but a quick suture through my eyebrow was all that I needed. The nurse joked that I would have a “sweet battle scar” for the rest of my life, bifurcating my left eyebrow. One of my upper left molars cracked in half. The root wasn’t exposed, thankfully, and I already had an appointment with a dentist for the following day.
No internal injuries. No concussion. Just bruises upon bruise, like someone had repeatedly bashed a plum into concrete. They loaded me up with somethingfaaantasticto take the edge off. I think the ER doctor miscalculated my weight and gave me more than I should have received. That, or I wasn’t used to these things.
Everyone kept calling me Romo. No less than five nurses and techs stopped by to either gawk or say hello. I didn’t mind. People being so friendly despite my obvious situation just meant that coming out was the right direction. Not that I focused on that—I tried to, at least. To keep my mind from wandering.
“When can I see him?” I asked my nurse for what had to be the hundredth time in ten minutes.
“When they come by,” he said. A kind gentleman, I put himin his mid-twenties, short, and enough peppiness to fill a cheer squad. His name was Terry. “I know you want to see him but you gotta let the ICU do their job.”
I fidgeted with my hands. My shirt, previously decorated with blood, had been taken off when they assessed my body and did x-rays. I had yet to find one to put back on. Terry said they’d give me an XXL scrub top.
“Yeah, but when will we know more?”
