Shot to the Hart

Chapter 3: Bad Killer

"He's stable for now but he needs to be in a hospital." Dan gathered his surgical tools and packed a small bag. "I'm just a vet, I'm no surgeon. The bullet when clean through his side but there's a risk of infection."

"If he goes into a hospital, he won't come out unless it's in a body bag." Nadia paced at the end of the bed, chewing a thumbnail that was already ragged. "Just pump him full of antibiotics and we'll take it from there."

"Say, what kind of a killer are you anyway? You shoot someone and then save their life?"

A bad one, she thought. I fucked up and now I'm as good as dead along with my pal here. I did him no favours. 

"I didn't shoot him," she muttered. 

"And stop that pacing, you're making me nervous," Dan said as he shrugged into his coat. "He's got enough drugs in him to tranquilize a moose, so he's good for now. I didn't get all the bullet fragments, I couldn't remove some of the smaller pieces without causing more damage, but I did the best I could."

"You should get out of here," she said, eyes fixed on Sal. 

"I'm going. Keep the dressing clean and dry and if he starts bleeding again, get him to a hospital. I mean it." Dan said. Nadia handed him a stack of cash and he tucked it into his inner coat pocket. "Nadia, I don't know what you're messed up in this time, but it looks bad. Your nine lives are about to finally run out. You know who this guy is and who he's connect to. Do yourself a favour and ditch him somewhere and fast."

"No," she said, following him to the door. "But thanks for your concern." Dan sighed and shook his head as he walked out. She triple bolted the door and returned to the makeshift hospital bed in the living room where Sal lay, looking deathly pale. 

The airbnb was a familiar one; she had her regulars in many places. This one was in Concord, a good 45 minutes outside of Boston. The nondescript but cozy log cabin was hidden in the wilderness, accessible only by a long dirt road. One way in, and one way out. The owners lived in Switzerland and she paid with a credit card from one of her many aliases.  

Sal sighed in his sleep and winced as she heard Dan's range rover purring down the driveway. It was a quiet and safe place. For now. 

Your nine lives are about to run out.

Nadia had thought that many times in her life and yet here she still was. In many ways, thanks to the man in the bed. 

If it wasn't for him, she would have frozen to death at the bottom of a wintry ravine at 12 years old, the victim of a vicious prank. She could still hear the taunts of the girls, the older ones who pretended to be her friend, who strung her along and turned their back on her when she was hurt. God knows what would have happened if Sal hadn't come along and fished her out of the river, shaking and near death.

Boys could be scary back then, always fist fighting, almost gleeful in their violence. It was like a language to them — any excuse to let fists fly and they'd be at it in the playground. She hated the sights and sounds of a fight back then, the shouting, fists hitting reddening flesh, blood on the snow. But the same guys who beat the shit out of each other out one day would be best friends the next, walking through the hallways trading hockey cards, wearing the scrapes and bruises from the day before.

Teenaged girls were different. They didn't fight with their fists; they were more dangerous than that. Indidious and wolf-like in their packs, they were pretty on the outside, vicious within. She knew first hand how they attacked, stealthy and sweet but breathless in their cruelty.

Nadia's stomach rumbled and she realized she hadn't eaten for hours. She went to the kitchen and put the kettle on for tea, rummaging through the cupboards until she found a can of chicken soup and some crackers. 

While she heated the soup and made the tea, her mind wandered back to that day so many years ago. She hated moving to a new town, making new friends and knowing she would never truly fit in. Nadia begged to go to regular middle school but as always, her parents won that battle, sending her to yet another pricey private school. Those kids were always the worst.

Winston Academy looked beautiful, like Harry Potter and his witchy friends should be flying around the place on broomsticks. She could never get into that series, but read voraciously just about every other book she laid her hands on.

Another school, another group of kids to laugh and make fun of her and her spine brace. She'd try and keep it hidden for as long as she could, but they always found out.

Diagnosed with congenital scoliosis, her parents paid for the very best doctors in the world to fix her but they all said the same thing — before they could think about surgery, she needed a bakc brace to reduce the curvature of the spine. She had to wear it most of the day, every day and it was an embarrassing nightmare. 

When Maya, Arianna and Chloe befriended her right away, she wasn't suspicious, she was thankful. They were 14 and 15 and very sophisticated. They had flip phones and wore flared jeans and tight t-shirts that exposed a bit of their bellies. She wasn't Nadia back then, she was Beth and Beth was completely awe-struck by the older girls. When they found out about her back brace, they didn't snicker or make fun. They merely shrugged, like it didn't matter at all. 

When they invited her to go shopping after school, she was over the moon. Walking beside them, on their way to Granville Mall, she felt grown up and mature. They had done her makeup that day, straightened her hair and she almost didn't recognize herself in the mirror. Finally, she had friends. Her heart could have burst out of her chest that day.

And then, it happened. 

The whistle of the kettle snapped her from her daydream. She made the tea and spooned soup into a bowl. She ate methodically, barely tasting it, her mind far away when she heard Sal groaning from the next room. The groan became a tortured yell. 

She dropped the spoon and rushed to his bedside where he was thrashing back and forth like a fish on land. 

"Easy, easy. You're safe." She put a hand on his arm and he grasped her wrist quickly and violently. His eyes were wild with fear and anger. 

"Where's my team? Where am I? Who the fuck are you?"

"You're hurting me. Calm down," she said, prying his fingers away. He continued to thrash, sitting up and pulling at the IV in his arm.

"Stop! You're going to hurt yourself!" As if on cue, he winced and grabbed at his side before settling down somewhat, gasping for air. 

"I'll tell you everything, but you have to stay calm," she said in her most serene voice. This was not Nadia, not something she was good at. She was the one to administer the hurt, not to sooth it. 

"I'm calm," he said finally, between ragged breaths. "Now tell me who the fuck you are before I kill you with my bare hands."