Forty seven: Forehead kiss

We were inside the old man's house.

The shooting had ended, Lauretta had driven off in her car after shooting Saint and her army of men were all dead.

I had seen my uncle's lifeless body and not even an ounce of sadness had hit me. There weren't any mixed feelings like the first time I had thought he was dead and hated me or not, I was glad he was finally dead.

I sat beside where Saint lay, still unconscious and watched as the old man dressed his wounds while I helped out in whatever way that I could. My eyes were sore from crying and my throat was already as dry as it could be. I felt extremely guilty for putting Saint in this position and hated that I had to see him this way.

Alessandro's condition also was far worse than Saint's but the old man had said he was going to be fine as well. I could only take his word for it but I was thankful that he hadn't died.

"You should get me some more water and a fresh towel." The old man said and I hurriedly stood up going to dispose of the