Torture to Her Soul(24)

"Maybe so, but the whole world can see it right now."

"I'm not ashamed," I say, sitting on the edge of the bed to try to put on the pants, but it's damn near impossible. I can't bend over to pull them up my fucking legs. My eyes water from agony as I struggle in silence for a moment before Karissa grabs a hold of them, wordlessly helping to put them on.

I take over once they're within my reach, covering up, and grab her arm when she tries to move away. Her face is bright red, bashful, and she avoids looking me in the eyes when I pull her my way.

"Don't be embarrassed," I say. "I'm certainly not. Besides, I seem to remember you taking your clothes off last night."

"You were bleeding. I had to use something."

"You keep telling yourself that," I say, letting go of her. "I always knew there was a little bit of an exhibitionist in you."

She rolls her eyes, but she doesn't deny it.

The shirt is much easier to pull on than the pants. After I'm dressed, I survey myself, satisfied I'm no longer indecent. "Thanks for swiping the clothes for me."

"I borrowed them," she stresses again.

"Whatever you want to call it, jailbird," I say, glancing at her and raising an eyebrow. "You ready to get out of here?"

She doesn't answer right away, as if contemplating my question, but eventually offers a shrug as if to say, 'what the hell, let's go.' I follow her out of the room and into the busy hallway. I'm moving as slow as a tortoise, each step painful but I force myself to keep going, my bare feet slapping against the filthy fucking floor.

"How'd we get here, anyway?" I ask as we head toward the elevators.

"Ambulance."

"Do you have any money on you?"

"Uh, no, I don't think so."

I sigh as we pause in front of the elevator. "We're going to need to find a way home."

As soon as I say it, I glance up, my footsteps faltering when I see Ray standing at the nurse's station. Just as I spot him, the nurse on duty points my direction. Ray turns, eyeing me right away.

Karissa stalls beside me, stepping closer to my side as he approaches. I put my arm around her, instinctively, protectively, but more so to lean on her.

I'm unsteady on my feet.

Ray momentarily ignores her presence when he stops in front of us, focused fully on me. His eyes study me, picking me apart, like he's looking for weaknesses. "Leaving already, Vitale?"

"Yes," I say. "What are you doing here?"

"Just came to check in on you," he says. "You sped away last night, wasn't sure what happened, but I heard you'd been shot."

"Just a flesh wound," I say. "I've had worse."

"That you have," he says, nodding. "Well, come on, let me give you a ride home."

I start to argue, but I don't have a leg to stand on. What can I say? We have no other way to get anywhere. I stagger onto the elevator as Karissa stays at my side, the three of us heading to an awaiting limo, the driver still waiting behind the wheel.

It's strained, the whole way to Brooklyn, as I sit in the back of the extravagant vehicle beside Karissa, right across from Ray. Nobody speaks. Nobody knows what to say. My mind is a jumble of thoughts, my body in agony, my chest heavy from the implications.

When we pull up in front of my house, Ray clears his throat. "Can I have a moment of your time, Vitale?"

Hesitating, I relax back in the seat, motioning for Karissa to go ahead inside. She leaves, closing the door behind her, and we sit in silence for a moment. I stare out the window, my eyes drifting to my car in the driveway, the side of it ravished by bullet holes.

Ray looks apprehensive, his eyes shifting from me to my car in the driveway. "Who did this?"

A lie is on the tip of my tongue. I try to swallow it back, but it springs free. "I don't know."

I've never lied to Ray before.

"You don't know?"

"No," I say. "They blindsided me, stole my wallet and my keys, then panicked and shot me."

"And you don't know who it was?"

"No," I say. "I don't."

His eyes meet mine again, guarded, as he seems to consider all of it. He doesn't believe me, I see it in his eyes, but he, too, knows I've never lied to him. He doesn't want to think things have changed between us. I don't want to think it, either, but I feel it.

I feel the shift before he even addresses it.

"You're getting soft, Vitale. You let someone shoot you. You let them rob you and get away with it."

"Just because they got away last night doesn't mean they'll get away with it," I say. "I always get my revenge."

"Revenge," Ray echoes, letting out a dry laugh. "I'm starting to think we have different definitions of that. I thought revenge meant payback, justice, an eye for an eye… a family for a family… not taking the easy way out."