Married To The Mafia: Book II

2 - Three Years Earlier.

Three Years Earlier....

"No!"

"Don't go."

"Nooooo!!"

Devlin eyes snapped open and the first thing he experienced was the gut-wrenching and mutilating pain that almost knocked him back to unconsciousness. The pain was unbearable, very excruciating and pulsating deep down in his stomach, groin and back and was threatening to cripple him.

He tried to speak but a gush of cool air filled his lungs. The pain in his back was more intense than the rest of his body and his hands felt like lead weights but he struggled to raise them and when he did, alternating waves of pain swept through him with so much force that was hard to ignore.

He took a sharp intake of breath, trying to let the sinusoidal and throbbing waves of pain to pass and his nose and mouth were once again filed with cool, fresh air that helped him breath better but it was uncomfortable so he yanked off whatever it was that was making him gobble cool air.

He regretted it immediately as his lungs flamed as if they were on fire.

"Am I in hell?" He groaned.

A face came over him. "No." It was a man in EMT uniform and a face cap drawn low over his head. He smiled at him. He had an English accent. "Well, not yet, anyways."

Just then, he heard the wail of the ambulance siren and that baffled him. He tried to sit up because he had a lot of questions running around in his head but the man in uniform pushed him back and tried to place something that looked suspiciously like an oxygen mask back over his nose and mouth.

"I don't want it." Devlin said with a struggle. "Why am I here?"

"You need it so you have to put in on." The man said and placed it over his nose and mouth. "You're on your way to the hospital. It's a miracle you survived those shots. The bullets are still in your body and so you need a doctor and a bullet removal surgery."

Bullet? Hospital? Doctor?

Then it all came rushing back. He was alive! He'd thought he was dead. Relief and gratitude swept over him in soothing waves. He'd been wearing a light-weight bulletproof vest which had probably been what had prevented the bullets from completely finishing him. He closed his eyes, letting the realization of him being alive sink in and overshadow him. He remembered dying, remembered seeing Dorothea and Rob and his grandma. He also remembered being swept up in blackness. Now that he knew, he had probably only lost consciousness due to loss of blood.

He needed to tell Pamela! He needed to tell her that he was alive, that he was fine and they would finally be happy! That gave him strength. He would tell the man to help him call his wife; oh how worried she must be!

He removed the mask again and sat up which drained his strength due to how painful it was. "How long have I been out?"

"Few hours."

He took in a sharp breath and his sides pierced him. Pamela would be worried sick. "I need to call my wife, please." The man wore a face cap that shadowed his face and Devlin looked up at him. "Please. It's very imperative that she knows I'm alive."

"Yes, you're alive." The man said, slowly taking off his cap. "But not for long."

Devlin didn't have the time to digest the meaning behind the man's words when he raised his fists and swung at Devlin. Shocked, Devlin ducked but not in time to avoid the heavy blow that landed on his sides. He groaned aloud and regarded the salt-and-peppered and heavily bearded man with disgust.