Marco helped him down the hall to Nonna's bedroom....small, warm, smelling like lavender and old Italy.
She had him lie on the bed, started cutting away Marco's bandages.
"Marco, get the medical supplies from the bathroom. Top shelf. The real kit, not the first aid box." Nonna examined Dimitri's wounds with practiced eyes. "Who removed these bullets?"
"I did," Marco said. "On the plane."
"You did good work. For someone who is not a doctor." She looked at Dimitri. "This will need proper stitches. Antibiotics. You will have fever by morning."
"I can't let Eve know," Dimitri said. "She can't see me like this."
Nonna raised an eyebrow. "And how do you plan to hide two bullet wounds from her in this house?"
"I'll manage."
"Will you?" Nonna's smile was knowing. "Or have you forgotten that you fuck her all the time? Don't tell me you plan on depriving her until your wounds heal in secret. Because that girl will know something is wrong. She reads you better than you think."
