Gasping for breath and straining just to move, you head away from collision towards any form of help you can find. You eventually pass out, hoping that you're losing consciousness where somebody might find and help you.
You wake up some time later in a comfortable bed. The Boss is there. If he has another name, you've never heard it. Maybe he's a Bruce Springsteen fan. Maybe not. "Boss," you begin, with a question to follow, but he interrupts you.
"You know we're all family here," he says. "So of course we took care of you, just like we're taking care of the arrangements for Tommy. I need to know, though, what happened to him."
"Some dame came at us with a shotgun," you say, stumbling for words.
The Boss fills in the blanks. "So you shot her, then Tommy attacked you, so you kill him."
There's a long uncomfortable pause. "Uh...yeah," you finally muster. The Boss just gives a solemn nod. Then he shoots you.