Page 114 of Breaking Rosalind
Frowning, I cauterize the wounds and continue slicing through the organ, releasing heat and the stench of burning flesh. Sweat beads on my brow as I seal the major arteries and coagulate the blood.
Once I’ve freed his tongue, I place it on the tray and focus on suturing the wound. Even though the torch has taken care of the bleeding, I need to minimize the risk of any postoperative infections.
“You still with me, Axel?” I ask.
He remains silent. If I had to guess, he’s experiencing vasovagal syncope or neurogenic shock—both conditions strongly associated with pain.
I wipe the blood off his chest with antiseptic wipes, clean up the tongue, and attach it to his shoulder with staples.
Axel’s eyes snap open.
“Welcome back,” I say with my widest grin. “The fun has only just begun. Before you tell me what I need to know about the shooting, you’re going to answer a few questions about my pet.”
He groans, his eyes streaming with tears.
I give him an encouraging nod. “Don’t worry. I’ve worked through my issues. This time, I’m prepared to listen. One blink means yes and two means no.”
The entire night passes, as does most of the morning, and I still haven’t had the chance to deal with my pet. She’s more formidable than I anticipated. It’s as though she is immune to the psychological effects of Stockholm syndrome. Her shooting me in the chest is the clearest sign that I need to change tactics.
Roman comes in to conduct his own interrogation and maims my shooter, so I have to call on our family physician to repair the damage.
Cardiac surgery is more complicated than a glossectomy and isn’t something I can learn on YouTube. Besides, this shit-talking assassin needs to survive long enough to teach Rosalind a lesson.
The LED lamps above us shine down on the man’s chest, while casting the rest of the basement in shadow. I hand the surgical stapler to Dr. Brunelli. He hasn’t spoken a word to me since he entered the room and found the man with a gunshot wound to the chest.
I can tell he’s pissed by the way his brow pinches. His thick mustache twitches behind the mask as though he’s muttering under his breath.
After closing the chest wound, he says, “Explain to me the point of performing surgery on a man already marked for death.”
My lips tighten behind my mask and I bristle. “I didn’t shoot him. It was Roman.”
The old man gives me a familiar narrow-eyed look, just like he used to when I was a child. He thinks I’m lying. If anything goes wrong with the family, it’s always my fault.
“Ask Roman if you don’t believe me.” I flick my head toward the unconscious man. “Better still, ask him.”
“You going to tell me Roman also removed his tongue and attached it to his shoulder?” he asks.
I shrug. “He was talking shit.”
With a weary sigh, Dr. Brunelli pulls off his gloves. “Have you thought about what we talked about?”
“How can I return to medical school when there’s a contract on our lives?” I ask. “The assassins already shot Roman. They won’t stop coming after us until they’re dead.”
The doctor frowns but doesn’t speak. I already know what he’s thinking. It’s not difficult, considering he and Mom concocted the plan to make me a surgeon to stop me from becoming a serial killer.
I pull off my gloves and toss them in the medical waste bin. “Before you accuse me of making up excuses, let me remind you that I never wanted to be a doctor.”
“Yet you have enough surgical supplies to equip a clinic,” he says.
“Can’t a man have a hobby?” Rolling my shoulders, I shrug off my gown and head toward the exit.
“You’re not staying to finish?” he asks.
“I left my pet unconscious upstairs.” I wave a palm over the security scanner, and the door unlocks with a soft click.
When I step out and ascend the stairs, Sofia ambushes me with a trolley of panzerotti that fills the hallway with the scent of melted cheese and garlic.
My brow furrows. Last night she was so relaxed and happy in her black gown with her hair nicely styled and make-up. Now, she’s tense, the lines on her face looking harsher after witnessing Roman’s recent brush with death.