The Mafia Boss

Ch. 20: You're doing so well, angel.

Louisa's screams are first to penetrate my daze, followed by the angry barks of Frank O'Neil. Orders are made as Aidan's blood continues to cover my hands, his life slowly slipping away.

"Get me the fucking doctor!" thunders Frank, crouching to be next to his only son. "What happened?"

"Shane shot him," I inform, surprisingly calm given the situation.

Torin rushes into the room, face paling the second he sees me covered I blood.

"Imogen!"

Frank's doctor arrives and kindly asks for some space. I quickly pull back, still not sure if Aidan is breathing or if my brother has just fucked everything up. Various people work to save the life of a man who—moments ago—sexually assaulted me and I can't seem to figure out how I feel about it. I both do and don't want him to live.

"Imogen!" Torin's voice pulls me from my thoughts as his huge hands encase my face. "Baby—are you hurt?"

"N-no."

He scans my body, not quite trusting my words alone.

"You're bleeding."

"It's not mine," I assure, looking towards where Aidan lies motionless on the ground.

"Who did this?" asks Reaper,

I gaze into Torin's familiar eyes, using the storm grey to ground me. "Shane did."

His expression mellows. "Shane's here?"

I nod

Torin tenses. "Wait here."

"Where're you going?" I plead, holding onto his shirt sleeve.

"To kill him!"

"No, you can't. You can't leave me!" My legs tremble as I fist even more of his shirt into my hands. "Torin, don't leave me!"

His eyes widen as he takes in my desperation, no hesitation between him nodding and pulling my body to his.

"It's okay, I'm here. I'm right here."

I sob into his chest, a mixture of both shock and fear making me feel sick. His huge arms wrap around my body, and I can sense people watching us, but I don't care. I don't fucking care.

"Let's clear the room!" suggests Eva, taking charge.

Her and Reaper do exactly that while Torin leads me towards another—much quieter—area of the house. He steers me into a small bathroom and sits me down on the edge of the bath. I'm still hysterical, my mind nothing but fog. Fingers and toes tingle, as does my face, making me feel like I'm having an out of body experience. My body violently shakes uncontrollably as Torin warms a flannel under the tap, never once taking his eyes off me.

"Breathe," he demands, pressing the hot flannel to my cheeks.

Tears stream down my cheeks as his instruction goes ignored.

"I need you to listen to me, angel," he says, softening his tone.

His eyes—a combination of concern and deep affection—turn the clearest of blues.

"He—he—"

I press my hand to the area of my neck where Aidan has—no doubt—left a bruising mark.

"I didn't want him to, Torin. I didn't want him anywhere near me."

Torin—give him his due—remains calm. "Did he hurt you?"

I shake my head, feeling dizzy the second I do so.

"It's okay," he soothes, pressing his lips to the marks on my neck. "I'll make it better."