While I Breathe: The Veiðimenn Mob, Book One

Eighteen

(8 years later)

The stench of disinfectant burned his nose as David sat reading in his hospital bed. Four days ago, he’d been admitted to the hospital with numerous gun shot wounds. When they knew he would be okay, Callum sent the rest of the team home to the city. Knowing that Hans anal about letting his son go without a guard for as long as he had scared him shitless, but getting shot was a feasible justification.

As he turned another page, the door of the room was pushed open. His eyes darted up, and his jaw dropped as his mind reeled from the startling shock of the sight before him. Swallowing, he blinked hard to make sure what he was seeing was real. Casting his eyes on her again, he whispered a prayer to the patron saint of travellers, “Sweet Saint Christopher, she’s really here.”

The last time he saw her, she was sporting bloodied clothes, frantically crying and begging to have regular updates on her boyfriend. Now she was wearing a white lab coat, its starched collar folded neatly down while a stethoscope hung from around her neck. He could see the black shirt that hugged her curves, disappearing beneath the waistband of her dark blue jeans. She looked like she'd gained a few pounds, but the added weight didn't take away from her undeniable beauty.

This is some kind of a sign from above. It has to be, he thought. He swallowed, hopeful for his young friend for the first time in years.

“Good evening, Mr. Vincent. How are you today? Is that hernia still giving you trouble?”

“I’m better now that you’re here, Doctor Reyes,” the man replied in a suggestive tone.

Laughing silently at the conversation, David marked his page and set it down. With this revelation, there was a chance that the young Don would be able to reconnect with his lost love.

She giggled, but David recognized a forced laugh when he heard one. It made him wonder if she'd really been happy since being separated from his friend; a friend that was more of a brother than a boss.

“I appreciate the offer, but I can’t say that I’m down for having dinner with someone old enough to be my father, Mr. Vincent,” Ambrosia replied.

“Awe, I was hoping you’d say yes,” the older man mumbled.

She forced another laugh. “So, after today, Doctor Morgan will be taking over your care so that we can finally get you prepped for surgery. Your blood pressure and other numbers are right where we needed them, so it’s onto the next stage at this point. Was there anything I could do to make you more comfortable in the meantime?”

“Oh, no, Darlin’. You’ve been an angel,” the man laughed jovially.

Moving over to David’s side of the room, her smile faded as she closed the curtain to his bed. Her happy attitude seemed to evaporate into nothingness. Glaring down at his chart in her hands, she shook her head. “Given what you actually do for a living, I can't say that I'm surprised to see you in the hospital."

She pulled out a small flashlight. Before he could say or do anything to defend himself, she spoke again. "I heard about what happened at that warehouse. Mind explaining?"

He clenched his jaw, "It's what we do, Ambrosia. We’re a mob, yes, but children are precious to Hans. Once they turn eighteen, they’re on their own, though."

She probed his wounds, checking the healing process. Satisfied that the bullet hole was not infected and that the skin was already healing, she pursed her lips and jotted something down in the chart. “I need to check your vitals.”

“I’m sorry,” he said as he slowly slid them opened. Pegging her with a remorseful stare, he winced as the light shone in his eyes.

“What for?” She pressed, noting the reactions in his file. She sighed heavily, “I know everything, David.”

“I’m going to need that file to take with me when I leave, too,” he replied. He blinked, knowing he hadn’t said anything to give her that intel. "And what do you mean by you know everything?"

“Don't play stupid. I know you work for the Mafia," Ambrosia snapped quietly, staring him down. "I know Cal is the leader's son, I also know he’s no threat to me. He would have found a way to end me if he was, but he didn’t. It's been eight and a half God damned years, and you suddenly get dropped off here only to end up on my patient list. Tell me, did he try to find me?”

Guilt flooded him, “Callum never stopped, Ambrosia. No matter how hard we looked, it was like you ceased to exist. It’s like someone wanted to make you disappear, and they did a damn good job of making it happen. Honestly, I think Hans was blocking him, as well. This meeting between us now is purely by chance.”

She raised her eyes to meet his, the green of her iris’s were clear, housing nothing but curiosity and hope. “Yeah, my mother made that promise to him, and made sure to go through with it. I need to see him. Is he with you?”

“Callum was bed-ridden for months before he was able to do anything on his own. Then, he had to go through all sorts of therapy. It was two years before his father would even let him out of the Towers without a guard. I’m with him all the time, and there are two other guys he made friends with,” David whispered. Swallowing the lump of emotion he was feeling, he said, “He still loves you, you know.”

“David, you’re avoiding my question,” she growled darkly.

He was tempted to smirk at her accusation. Instead, he innocently looked at her, "Am I?"

“Don’t make me hurt you when I was about to discharge you. I may be a doctor now, but it only means I’ve more opportunity to hurt you and make it look self-inflicted. Now, answer me or suffer, the choice is yours.” She retorted.

David shook his head, torn between what he knew was the mark of a natural-born Donna and his allegiance to Boss Hans. He winced, “I can't say anything about him, Ambrosia. I'm sorry, but I need to call my boss first to get clearance.”

She raked him with a sneer, “Sure, why not? While you’re at it, ask him to change your pull-up because you obviously require adult supervision.”

He pleaded his case as she signed off on his release papers. “Don’t be like that. If Hans found out that I told anyone anything without getting clearance, being shot would be the least of my worries.”

“Ask me if I care,” she stated simply. Handing him the discharge papers, she walked out of the room without another look back.

He growled in frustration as the door shut behind her. David wanted to tell her that the answer was yes, but he couldn't. He got up, dropping the documents to the bed as he got dressed before he threw on his jacket. As he picked them up, a torn piece of paper fell from between the folds, and his brow creased in confusion.

Immediately recognizing the seemingly nonsensical scribbles as an encoded message, he breathed a laugh of disbelief. There was a meaning to the randomness if you knew how to read it. Hope bloomed in David's chest as he re-read the message, thankful he learned it from Callum during the sleepless nights.

“God blessed that woman with a mind of steel and a heart of gold.” Taking the paper, he shoved it into his jeans pocket. Gathering his things as quickly as possible before walking out of the hospital, he prayed that Ambrosia would find it in her heart to forgive them all. Taking a deep breath, David pulled out his cell to call Callum.