Ice Thug

Capitolo Dodici

"I need help, Nova!" Trey's panicked voice snaps me out of my shock. I know I'm in the Mafia, and things get a little dangerous once in a while.

...

Okay, very dangerous once in a while.

...

Okay, very often...

The point is, I've never, for some reason, ever had to worry about Angelo's safety. There was just no reason to.

We always got ourselves out of dangerous situations and perhaps got too carried away worrying about our own heads; we just assumed the other would be fine.

Never have I seen my brother bleed in such a fatal manner...so much that I didn't even think he could.

Once my limbs are free from the shock freeze, I fly through the air until I reach him. There's still a smile on his face, which annoys me more than it relieves me.

"Angie! Angie, can you hear me?" I run my hands along his wet-sand-colored curls.

"Loud and clear, sis." He tries to chuckle but ends up coughing, blood seeping out of his mouth.

Mio Dio, what do we do?

Trey searches him frantically, maybe for other injuries. The only obvious one is on his stomach.

My trembling hands caress the area around it. "Don't tense up, Angie. You'll force more blood out."

"Heh. There's still blood left to be forced out?"

The stupid boy still has his humor in check, even when he desperately needs help.

"Thank Goodness." Trey huffs when he pulls out a pair of keys. It's for a Range Rover. Trey takes out his phone and dials a number. "Irina, in my room, there's my spare keys. Take it and come to the location. I'll send it to you. My Lamborghini is there...no time for questions, do it." He hangs up the phone.

"Irina?" I squint but don't follow through with the question. I may not know anyone with the name Irina living with us, but I know my brother is dying.

That's infinitely more important.

"We have to get him up," Trey says and puts his arm under his neck to lift him.

"Careful, Tre...ahh!" Angelo cries in pain. "Cazzo, Donny should've just shot me in the head."

Trey almost drops him back to the ground.

"It was Donatello that did this?" he growls.

I see darkness in his eyes: darkness and rage.

"Gesú Christo, can someone tell me what the fuck is going on?!" I yell as tears start streaming from my eyes.

I'm desperate for an answer to the raging confusion that is before me and a solution to Angelo's plight, none of which are forthcoming. It frustrates me more than I can express without tears.

"Help me pick him up. I'll tell you on the way." Trey mutters and begins moving Angelo again.

"Ahh... don't tell her, Trey. Please?" My brother still finds the energy to talk.

"Shut the fuck up, idiota." Trey mumbles under strained breath as we both give Angelo assisted steps with our shoulders under his arms. At some point, we don't just assist his steps; we become his steps, and his legs trail behind us.

"Angelo, stay with me, eh?" Trey slaps him repeatedly across the face once we get to his car – The Range Rover, parked nearby. Angelo opens his eyes and gives a wink.