forced himself to go on.
He found one door, but it was too close to the fire. If he opened it now, he and Carmine could be engulfed before they had a chance to get out. He needed to get as far ahead of the fire as he could. Praying Carmine stayed with him and his leg stayed under him—Christ, it hurt—Danny continued past another door to one near the back.
He glanced over his shoulder. The fire was closing in fast, but there was still time. A little time.
After he’d eased Carmine to the ground, Danny shoved the door with his hip, which made his wounded leg hurt even more. Then he tried it with his shoulder, and this time the chain on the outside snapped and the door flew open. Smoke poured out, and the fire was rushing toward them now.
Despite the pain and the way his head spun, he had to get them out of here right now. He was too exhausted to haul Carmine to his feet, so he just grabbed his arm and a handful of his shirt, and he dragged him out into the cool, fresh air. Danny stumbled, and blinding pain tore through his wounded leg. He was sure his clothes had caught on fire but that could be dealt with once they were outside.
As soon as they were clear of the building and safely away from the fire, Danny released Carmine, and he collapsed beside him, crumpling beneath the weight of sheer exhaustion and relief. His leg wasn’t on fire, but it hurt. It really hurt. It… Jesus, it really hurt. He looked down, and to his horror, there was blood on the pavement. A lot of it. And it wasn’t Carmine’s.
Whatever he’d done to his leg, he’d made it a whole lot worse on the way out, and now he was bleeding badly.
His vision swam. He tried to hold his wound together. Tried to pull himself toward Carmine. Tried to will Carmine’s eyes open. Tried to will his own eyes to open.
But he wasn’t strong enough.
And as his forehead touched the cool pavement, the last thing he heard were footsteps running toward him.
Chapter 44
Carmine didn’t know how long he’d been here, only that when he could finally persuade his eyes to open and stay that way, sunlight was pouring in through curtains. Familiar curtains. His bedroom. As his mind cleared, he tried to sit up, but the pain in his chest told him to stay right where he was. He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut again.
“Carmine?” Mama’s voice. “Are you awake?”
“Ungh.” He forced his eyes open and found her standing beside the bed, her features taut with worry. His voice was hoarse and his throat burned as he said, “I’m awake, Mama.”
She smiled faintly and clasped his hand. “Good. You’ve been so pale, and…” Shaking her head, she grimaced. “The doctor didn’t know if you’d come back.”
Carmine swallowed gingerly. “What happened?”
Gesturing at his chest partly bare, she whispered, “You were shot.”
He touched the bandage, and memories suddenly flashed through his mind. Trying to escape the burning warehouse with James. Realizing Giulia and Danny were in there too. Losing sight of them. The bullet that had seemed to come out of nowhere and stopped him in his tracks.
“Come on, we have to get out of here.”
“I’m not getting out of here. Go. Get—”
“Close your head. We’re going.”
He gasped, wincing at the fresh pain, and squeezed Mama’s hand. “Danny. Where’s Danny? Is he…”
The grim look on her face sent his heart into his feet.
“No,” he whispered. “Tell me he’s not…”
She motioned toward the bedroom door. “He’s across the hall, but…” Looking in his eyes, she softly said, “The fever…”
Carmine’s sore throat tightened. “Fever?”
“He was wounded. His leg.” She shook her head. “He didn’t say what happened, but he was bleeding nearly as much as you were. The doctor thought he’d heal faster than you, but the infection…”
Carmine squeezed his eyes shut. Danny was alive, but for how much longer? Looking up at his mother, he said, “I want to see him.”
She was already shaking her head. “You need to rest. You’ve—”
“I need to see him,” he pleaded. “If he doesn’t have long, I might not see him again.”
His mother watched him. She glanced toward the door, then back to him, and she exhaled. “All right. But you must move slowly! And carefully!”
“I will. I promise.”
It wasn’t a promise he had to try to keep—moving slowly and carefully was the best he could do. With her