Overflow: The Carpino Series (25 page)

He lunged at me and the next shot I got off went to the side
before he wrestled my gun away from me.  Then, for the second time in my life I
was backhanded.  This time with the butt of my own gun and let me tell you, it
hurts a hell of a lot more than a hand.  He proceeded to drag me, all while he
was bleeding profusely from his shoulder, into this ramshackle building. He
bound my wrists and feet with plastic cable ties, threw me against a wall
leaving me here covered in his blood. 

It doesn’t look like a barn, but there are all kinds of old
farm equipment and tools around me, looking like no one has set foot in here
for years.  There’s no way I’m going to get these cable ties off without
something to cut them and they are bound so tight they are cutting into my
skin.  While he was gone, I scooted to the right a couple of feet and was able
to grab an old flat head screw driver off the ground, holding it flat to my
forearms in a way he hopefully couldn’t see.  I was in the process of trying to
find something to cut the ties away when he returned.

Stalking toward me again, I try to scurry on my ass
backwards until I hit the wall.  He stops about four feet from me and says his
first words since he drug me out of my car, “You don’t know who I am, do you,
you fucking bitch?”

Finding it hard to create words as I swallow back the fear,
all I can do is just shake my head a tiny bit as an answer. 

He pulls the blood soaked rag away from his shoulder that
continues to bleed, throws it to the ground in front of me and says, “Well,
you’re daddy knew me.”  At the mention of my dad, I felt the blood drain from
my head and I almost feel woozy.   He must have read the look on my face
correctly because he grins a wicked grin and goes on, “Yeah, your daddy put me
away for twenty five fucking years.  But that’s okay, because I had him put
away, too.  In the ground.”  At that, I pull in an audible breath and his
wicked grin turns into a vicious smile as he delivers his next blow, “Your
momma was just a bonus.” 

He had my parents killed. 

My parents were murdered. 

I don’t know who in the hell he is, but all thoughts of
self-preservation fly out the window as I try and process the fact that my
parents death wasn’t an accident and I close my eyes leaning back against the
bitter cold wall.  I open my eyes immediately as I hear him say, “I was pissed
I didn’t have a hand in him gettin’ his due myself, but at the sight of you,
I’m thinkin’ I’m gonna enjoy this retribution a fuckofa lot more than getting
back at your daddy with my own hands.  You see, I’ve been in prison for twenty
five years.  I made due with men, but it’s been a long fucking time since I’ve
had a woman.  I might have to keep you around longer than I planned.  And
you’re a fighter, so this could be fun.”  I open my mouth to say something, or
yell, or scream, but nothing comes out.  “There’s no one around here for miles
so there’s no need to gag you.  You scream all you want, I might just get off
on that.”

I blink but don’t dare take my eyes off him.  I have no idea
if anyone even knows I’m gone and once they do, how will they ever find me? 
I’ve got to keep my head together and come up with a plan to get away from
him.  “Who are you?” I ask, as I decide talking is my only option.

“You can call me Pope when you’re screamin' out my name, but
that’s all you need to know about me,” he bites out, holding his shoulder
gingerly.  Blood is still seeping from the wound and now that I’m trying my
best to focus on the situation, I can tell he’s in a lot of pain. 

“You should probably have that looked at,” I stupidly
suggest, not knowing what else to say.

“Shut the fuck up!” he screams at me and moves to close the
four feet in between us.  He kneels at my feet, pulls out a switch knife to cut
the cable tie and says, “If you move a muscle, I’ll knock the shit outta you
again.”

As he is focusing on his work at my feet I can tell he is
favoring his wounded shoulder, I decide it’s now or never.  I wait until my
feet are free and as fast and as hard as I can, I lift my hands still bound
together, angle the screwdriver jamming it in the gunshot wound in his
shoulder.  He falls back on his ass immediately screaming in pain as I jam and
twist as best I can with my hands tied.  I find my feet clumsily and try and
make my way around him, but with his good arm he reaches out grabbing my foot. 
I fall forward flat out, my wrists still bound and scream as he howls in pain,
but not letting go of my leg.  He pulls me back throwing himself on top of me,
almost knocking the air out of my lungs and I can’t move with his full weight
pressing me into the filthy floor.  With no one close, thinking it’s all for
not, there is nothing more I can do but scream. 

*****

I pull up to the decrepit outbuilding and see the car
Gabby’s neighbor described seeing in front of her house today.  Tony and I jump
out as fast as we can and I pull out my duty weapon while saying, “Tony, stay
behind me.”

Tony moves and I hear him muttering to himself, “I swear I’m
going to start carrying after this.” 

I move behind my car to take in my surroundings.  I have no
backup, although units should be here any moment.  There’s no sign of any other
cars or life for as far as I can see.  I look back at Tony giving my head a
jerk, telling him to follow me and he nods once in recognition.  I move slowly
to the edge of the outbuilding, but halfway there we hear screams and cries
coming from inside. 

That’s Gabby.  Without thinking twice I run to the door and
sense Tony close to me.  I give myself a tic to peak through, I see he has her
on the ground and there’s blood everywhere.  Kicking the door open the rest of
the way, I train my gun on them and yell, “FBI!  Get your hands where I can see
them!  Now!” 

I see Gabby crane her neck around as far as she can to look
at me with a panicked look on her face.  Not having time to take that in, I
keep my eyes and gun trained on Pope.  “I said get your fucking hands where I
can see them!  Roll to the side and get off her.  Now!”

What he does not do is roll off her, but pulls one arm
around to grab her and pulls himself back to his knees, taking Gabby with him. 
Gabby screams again, pulls and jerks to get away, but he’s got her around the
middle and now I see that her hands are tied in front of her, impeding her
struggle.  I have my gun trained on his head, but he’s not that much taller
than Gabby and she’s in front of him.  I don’t have a clear shot.  I repeat
myself, “Let her go, and step back.”

“He’s got my gun!” Gabby yells. 

Fuck.  Now I realize he’s only using one arm and all the
blood is coming from a wound to his shoulder.  She must have gotten off a
shot. 

With that, he takes Gabby and throws her to the side.  She
lands on her hands and knees, trying to get to her feet, but he pulls her gun
out of his pants with his good hand and points it straight at her saying, “I’ll
shoot her.  I swear.  I’ll shoot her and enjoy doing it!”

This is the easiest decision I’ve ever made, I aim my gun
down to his chest and he must realize what I’m doing because I hear Tony behind
me yell, “No!”  He runs to Gabby to push her out of the way as I pull my trigger,
but I hear two gunshots. 

“No!  No!  No!” I hear Gabby scream, piercing my heart. 
Pope is down in front of me, but Gabby is down on her hands and knees again in
front of Tony, lying on the ground, blood starting to seep out of his dress
shirt from his gut.  “No!” Gabby screams again trying to pull Tony’s head into
her lap.  “Call someone!”

I already have my phone out dialing 911 as I kick Gabby’s
gun away from Pope.  I make the call while cutting the tie at Gabby’s hands. 
She immediately pulls her sweatshirt over her head and presses it to his
stomach while cupping his head with her hand.  Tears are streaming down her
face as she looks down at her cousin and I say, “Tony, stay awake.  An
ambulance is coming, we’re gonna get you help.  You need to hang with us.”

Tony’s eyes come to me slowly, his eyelids half closed and
his normally olive skin starts to look drab.  Gabby begs through her sobs,
“Tony, look at me, please look at me.”

Tony slides his eyes back up to Gabby, even slower this time
and barely gets out, “Gabba.” 

His eyes close and Gabby shrieks, “Oh dear God, no!  Please,
no!”  She looks at me with her tear streaked face and says, “Jude, we have to
do something, please!  Let’s take him,” she begs me. 

“Baby, we need to wait, they will be here soon.  They’re
going to need to work on him,” I whisper back to her. 

I put my fingers to his throat and barely feel a pulse. 
After what seems like a fucking year while listening to Gabby sob and pray for
her cousin’s life, I finally hear sirens.  I look up at Gabby, putting my hand
to her cheek and give her a little nod.  Getting up, I leave to flag down the
EMS and lead them to Tony. 

“Sugar, put this on,” Jude says bossy, but soft and sweet. 
A remote part of my brain wonders how he can be sweet, soft and bossy at the
same time. 

They wouldn’t let me ride in the ambulance with Tony.  When
I say they, I mean the EMS, police, my uncles and Jude.  For one, my Uncle Tony
rode in the ambulance and as Tony’s father, he took precedence, but I think it
was more to the fact that I was a little out of control. 

Or a lot out of control. 

I wouldn’t let the EMS touch me to look me over.  I couldn’t
focus on anything other than watching them work on an unconscious Tony, seeing
his blood seep out of his body and watch them load him up to take him away.  I
was also shaking so badly from the cold since all I was wearing was a thin
t-shirt and old yoga pants.  Jude finally told them we would follow the
ambulance and have me checked out at the hospital.  I had been wrapped in a
blanket given to me by EMS, the heat in Jude’s truck blasting on me and after
being checked out in the ER, and even after Jude made me take a hot shower, I
still cannot stop shaking.  After I was checked out in the ER, vaguely remembering
someone saying something about shock and then Jude demanding I be able to take
a shower since I was covered in blood, both from Tony and Pope.  I went through
the motions of taking a shower, doing my best to wash away all the blood with
Jude’s help.  My body will not stop shaking, even now as Jude pulls hospital
scrubs over my head helping me dress, my fingers barely able to tie the pants
that are hanging on my hips.  I see Jude throw my blood soaked clothes into the
hazardous materials bin.  He comes back to me with another towel to squeeze as
much water from my hair as possible.

“Where is he?” I ask.

“He’s in surgery, sugar.  I’ll take you to your family in a
second.  Put these socks on, the nurse is bringing you warm blankets and we’ll
go straight to the surgical waiting room,” he says, again super softly. 

We exit the elevator and turn the corner.  I’m wrapped in
another blanket with Jude’s arm around my shoulders moving me forward.  I see
my whole family, faces wracked with fear and worry.  I go straight to my Uncle
Tony and bury my face in his chest, feeling his arms come around me.  Then
Lizzie joins our huddle and my uncle engulfs both of us.  “I’m so sorry,” I
whisper, my sobs coming again. 

“Hey,” my uncle says, whispering into my head.  “Stop
talking like that.  You didn’t bring this on.  We were so worried about you,
Gabby, that was an awful few hours not knowing where you were.  I’m just glad
they got to you when they did,” he gives us a squeeze as I hear Lizzie’s sob
hitch, her face buried in my wet hair.

We stand here for a few minutes before my uncle turns me
back into Jude’s arms, where he leads me to a hard sofa, sits and tucks me into
his side.  We wait for what seems like an eternity before a young doctor in
scrubs comes in and says, “Anthony Carpino, Jr.?”

The entire room stands, coming to attention and my Uncle
rushes forward holding Lizzie’s hand saying, “We’re his parents.”

Nodding once, the young doctor lays it out, “Your son is out
of surgery and in recovery.  I want him to stay in ICU throughout the night. 
He lost a lot of blood and is still in serious condition.  The bullet nicked
and ruptured his spleen, which we had to remove but we feel certain we were
able to repair all internal injuries.  We need to watch him closely tonight and
he will need to stay a few days.  If he progresses as we think he will, he
should make a full recover with time.  He’s very lucky the damage wasn’t worse
and if that bullet was an inch or two off, he wouldn’t be so lucky.  They
should be able to move him to ICU shortly and we will come get you so you can
see him.”

And with that, I slump against Jude who takes my weight as
my tears come again and I don’t hear my aunt or uncle ask more questions or
anything else the doctor has to say.  Tony’s going to be okay.  He threw
himself in front of a bullet for me, but he’s going to be fine.  Minus one semi
important organ that he should be able to live without. 

I feel Jude’s lips at my ear as he says, “Sugar, he’s going
to be fine.  Try and get a handle on it.”  I nod into his chest and try and
take in a big breath.  He pulls my head back a bit, gently placing his hand to
the side of my face where I can feel a large bump and bruise where Pope
backhanded me with my gun and says not so gently, “If I ever see another mark
on your face, I’m going to fucking kill someone.”

Thinking now is not the best time to point out that he
already did kill someone, not to mention I don’t want to think about anyone
being killed, past or present.  I instead plant the good side of my face in his
chest again and decide to focus on being thankful Tony’s going to be fine, I’m
fine and this awful day is over. 

*****

Tony

I open my eyes to light coming through the closed blinds of the
second hospital room I’ve already come to hate since I was moved here, deciding
I hate this one only slightly less than the one I hated in ICU.  I turn my head
and see Gabby, curled up asleep in the recliner with Jude sitting in a chair
next to her.  I scan the room for anyone else, try not to get pissed because it
hurts to fucking much when I see it’s just the three of us.  My eyes return to
Jude, his arms are folded across his chest, legs stretched out in front of him,
but his eyes are open, alert and on me.  I lick my lips and my dry mouth
grunts, “Hey.”

Jude doesn’t respond, but gets up and walks over to the
rolling table to nab a plastic cup with a straw, moves to me to put it close to
my mouth.  I take a long pull of water while trying to ignore the pain in my
gut every time I move any part of my body even a millimeter.  I’m not sure I
hid the pain very well because the first thing out of Jude’s mouth was,
“Warning, man.  I heard the nurse say that since you’re out of ICU, they’re
gonna get you up to walk here in a bit.”

I swallow, my mouth not feeling quite like sandpaper anymore
and mutter, “Fuck.”

Jude puts the cup down, staying where he is, crosses his
arms again and looks down at me.  Finally, after many countless beats, he
lowers his voice and says, “I’ll never have the words, Tony.”  He looks over to
a sleeping Gabby, then back to me and goes on, “Forever.  I’ll forever be
grateful.” 

I barely lift my chin to him, because it hurts like a
mother, to let him know I get him.  I look at Gabby, healthy and alive curled
up in the chair.   Jude and I give each other a knowing look and then all of a
sudden his lips barely tip up and he says, “Oh, another warning.  Gabby’s
already talking about how she wants you to stay with us until you get back up
on your feet.  She wants to take care of you.”

Shit.  I am not letting Gabby take care of me, so I grumble,
“What, is she building a commune over there for damaged bodies and troubled
souls?  Everyone’s moving in with Gabby.” 

Jude chuckles saying, “Something like that.  But you also
have to know, it’s turning into a competition for who’s going to take care of
you between her, your mother and your sisters.  Paige is even making plans to
move into your house.” 

Ignoring the pain this time, I say with meaning, “No fucking
way is Paige moving into my house.  She just wants to get out of her shit
apartment.”

“Maybe,” Jude says with mirth.  “But it should be fun to see
how it all plays out.  I’ll do what I can to have your back.” 

“You better.  You owe me,” I say, looking over at Gabby,
thinking he doesn’t owe me a thing.  I’d do anything for her. 

Jude sobers and says, “Yeah, I owe you everything.”

*****

“I can’t believe he won’t stay with us,” Gabby says, almost
whining. 

“Sugar, he doesn’t want to be babied by his mother, sisters
and cousin.  He will never be able to eat all the food you women made him, not
to mention he’s been given the all clear by the doctors to stay by himself. 
You all made your rotation schedule to be there during the days until he can
drive again and he barely gave in to that.  Give the man some peace,” I say,
trying to get through to her he wants to be on his own.  I didn’t go so far to
say that if he had a woman he’d be fine with her lovin’ on him, but his mother,
sisters and cousin?  No way.  “Although, I’ll never forget the look on his face
when you supplied him with a whole bottle of stool softeners.  I thought he was
going to bust his stitches he was so pissed.  That shit was funny.”

“Jude!  That’s not nice!” she exclaims.  “We all know what
those pain meds can do to your body,” she says in a sing song voice while
raising her eyebrows with big eyes. 

“Yes.  Yes, we do,” I agree laughing as I back out of Tony’s
driveway to make the short drive home. 

It’s been four days since Gabby was kidnapped, four days
since Tony was shot and four days since I killed Pope.  My shooting was
investigated immediately and it was immediately found that I was justified in
that shooting.  But even more, it’s been four days since Gabby has learned that
her parents were killed, their death being no accident.  I’ve asked her
repeatedly how she’s doing and she’s all but ignoring me.  Gabby’s kept herself
busy taking care of Tony, scurrying back and forth from the hospital.  But Tony
went home today, alone I might add, and she’s going to have to slow down to
process everything.  Her uncles and Tony are worried she’s upset with them for
not telling her, she says she understands but I can tell they’re still concerned.  

I pull my truck into the immaculately clean garage next to
Gabby’s Tahoe.  I’ve learned Gabby appreciates the benefits of Let’s Make a
Deal.  Shortly after I officially moved in, I cleaned her garage, organized her
shit and rearranged an unfinished room in the basement to create a workroom for
her to labor on the shit she calls treasures.  I even painted the garage floor
with industrial strength paint made specifically for the task.  In exchange for
me getting to move her shit and make the garage the shrine it is today, new
stainless steel appliances, granite countertops and a stone backsplash are
being installed in the kitchen of the cabin two days after Christmas.  We made
a quick trip to Colorado two weeks ago to order everything, which included shopping
all weekend.  I finally quit bitching about it when Gabby talked circles around
me explaining the massive weight of these decisions because, in her own words,
“It’s not like you make over a kitchen every other year, Jude!  These are huge
decisions.  Decisions that I might add will last years, if not decades and
cannot
be made in
fifteen minutes
!” 

The thought of decades with Gabby made me so happy that in
the middle of the granite showroom, I pulled her close to me and put my lips to
her ear and said, “Okay sugar, you shop as long as you need to, but I get to
tie you to the bed tonight and drive your sweet body crazy.”

I could feel her take in a breath as she pulled back to look
up at me and whispered, “But you always drive me crazy.”

“Not while you can’t move.”

And I could see her eyes working and she finally grinned
back at me to say, “Deal.  But prepare for a long day, Jude, I have lots of
decisions to make.”

“Not a problem sugar, but you need to prepare for a long
night.  I’ll go get us coffee while you chew over the grout color for the
backsplash.” 

And although it was a long day of shopping, the long night
with Gabby in bed in our cabin, begging for all kinds of things from me,
totally made up for it.  In the end, it was a deal well made.  Although, I’m
pretty sure she would have let me restrain her anyway.  And I would have
bitched about it, but I would have shopped as long as she needed.  But it was
sexy as hell standing in the middle of the granite showroom having Gabby agree
to being tied to our bed. 

We walk in the house, with Mia alternately attacking us
wanting our attention.  Gabby makes kissy noises while I ignore her.  I watch
Gabby move around the great room turning on Christmas lights.  I thought Gabby
liked pumpkins, but she might like Christmas trees even more.  She has a twelve
foot tree set up in the great room decorated in all white and old looking
silver ornaments with brown twigs sticking out every which way.  Then she has
another skinny tree in the dining room covered in sparkly-girlie-glittery
fruits and vegetables.  Who knew there could be so many ornaments of fruits and
vegetables?  Not to mention, why would one person own so many, not to mention,
any at all?  There’s yet another tree in the kitchen covered in Christmas cookie
cutters, and not new ones, but old rusty ones that hang between fake looking
berries dipped in sugar strung on a string.  Then, if you can believe it,
there’s one more in the basement by the fireplace, but you could barely see the
tree for all the ornaments.  And not one of them matches.  Gabby said her mom
kept every ornament she ever made in school growing up, plus tiny framed
ornaments holding pictures of Gabby, her parents and other family members.  Not
to mention the keepsake ornaments from travels or of something that reminded
them of a special moment or event.  She even has a King Tut ornament from when
her parents took her to the traveling artifacts museum as a child.  Who buys a
King Tut Christmas ornament?  This doesn’t include the large collection of
carolers, the Christmas Village, garland hanging from everywhere and I can’t
even count how many nativity scenes she has.  And under the largest of the
Christmas tree collection sits a mass of presents wrapped with huge bows. 
Gabby explained to me that over the last few years, her family has decided not
to buy for the adults anymore, everyone just buys for the kids.  But she added,
“Although, my aunts and uncles break this rule when it comes to me since my
parents are gone.  I keep telling them not to, but they insist.”