CHAPTER 66

CHAPTER 66
"I don't understand. Why do you look so fucking scared, Luca?" I half hissed, half shouted at him. He looked back at me with this wide look on his face as if he wanted to tell me something, but couldn't.

"If you don't say something, Luca, I will slap the shit out of you," I whispered, turning to look at him and having my back to Dan. "I'm just worried about you, okay?"

"If he is not a match and the hospital doesn't have that kind of blood type, what if you have the blood type that he needs?" I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose in frustration.

"You need to wake the fuck up, you're acting weird, and it's more annoying than anything. What's wrong if I have the same blood type as him?" I raised my hands in the air, struggling to see the reason he would be acting like this.

"You really don't understand. Dan would never let you give him blood. You are pregnant, for God's sake, you can't be giving any blood to anyone." Luca said as he slowly fell to the floor, hyperventilating. I crouched down to his eye level, determined to smack him back to his senses.

"Luca, you are hyperventilating right now. Why?" Instead of answering me, more tears welled up in his eyes. "I'm just worried about this whole situation."

"Did you shoot Tyson?" I straightly asked him, annoyed of having these ups and downs with him because of his weird behaviour. He still stared straight at me, unable to answer me. "Luca, did you do it? If you did, I need you to let me know."

I held Luca's gaze, my heart hammering against my ribs like it wanted out. The hospital corridor smelled of antiseptic and worry—sharp, metallic, the kind that clings to your clothes and never quite washes out. Behind me, Dan was still in the room with Tyson, arguing in low, furious tones with the doctor about compatibility tests and donor registries. Every few seconds, I heard Dan's voice rise, then drop again, like he was trying not to shatter the walls.
Luca's breathing came in shallow, ragged bursts. His hands shook so badly he had to press them flat against the linoleum to keep from collapsing completely. Sweat beaded along his hairline even though the air-conditioning was arctic.

"Luca," I said again, softer this time because the anger was starting to curdle into something colder. Fear. "Did you shoot him?" His mouth opened, closed. A tear slipped down his cheek. He nodded once, small, almost imperceptible, then shook his head violently, as if trying to take it back.

"Yes or no," I whispered. "Don't play games with me. Not now." He swallowed hard enough that I saw the muscles jump in his throat. "I didn't mean to—" The words landed like a slap. My hand flew up on instinct, hovering an inch from his face. I didn't hit him.

"You didn't mean to?" My voice cracked. "You put a bullet in my husband's brother, and you didn't mean to?" Luca flinched as I'd actually struck him. 

"It wasn't like that. Tyson was going to hurt someone. He had the gun on—on someone. I just... reacted. I grabbed it. It went off. I swear to God, I didn't want—"

"Stop." I pressed two fingers to my lips, trying to keep the nausea down. The baby kicked hard, right under my ribs, as if reminding me I wasn't allowed to fall apart. Not yet. "Who was he pointing it at?" Luca glanced at the door to Tyson's room and then back at me. The expression on his face revealed the truth before he even uttered a word.

"Me," he said so quietly I almost missed it. "He was pointing it at me." I sat back on my boots. The coldness of the floor seeped through my dress. Everything felt distant, suddenly the beeping monitors, the squeak of nurses' shoes, Dan's muffled voice still arguing about blood types.

My mind kept circling back to one stupid, selfish thought: Dan was going to lose his brother, and the man who'd put him here was sitting in front of me, crying like a child.

"Why were you even there?" I asked. "You and Tyson haven't spoken in years. Not since the thing with the garage." Luca wiped his face with the heel of his hand. 

"He called me. Two nights ago. Said he needed to talk. Said it was life or death. I thought—I don't know what I thought. That maybe he wanted to make things right with Dan." He laughed, bitter and wet. "I was so fucking stupid." I stared at him. "And instead he pulled a gun on you."

"He was high. Paranoid. Kept saying Dan owed him money, that Dan was cutting him out of the family for good. That if he couldn't have what was his, no one could." Luca's voice dropped lower.

"He said he was going to make Dan watch while he... while he hurt you. To teach him a lesson." The hallway tilted. I gripped Luca's sleeve to steady myself. "He said that?"Luca nodded.

"I didn't believe him at first. But then he showed me the picture he'd taken of your car outside the doctor's last week. Said he'd been following you."My free hand went automatically to my belly. The baby kicked again harder this time like a warning shot.

"I tried to talk him down," Luca continued. "Told him he was sick, that he needed help. He laughed. Put the barrel against my forehead and said Dan would thank him later." His voice broke. 

"I pushed the gun away. We fought. It—it just went off. Right here." He tapped his own side, mirroring the spot where the surgeons had dug the bullet out of Tyson's abdomen. I closed my eyes for a second. Tried to picture it. Tried not to.

"And then you ran," I said. It wasn't a question.

"I panicked. I thought if I stayed, they'd pin it on me. Self-defense or not, I shot a man. And Dan would never believe me. He would never believe my own story over his brother." He was right.

I opened my eyes and turned to look at him. "The police are going to want a statement."