Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
KATERINA
“ P lease wake up, micetta ,” Stefano whispers, his mouth pressed to my knuckles and his head resting against my thigh. Just to hear his voice is heaven, but to feel him next to me is a joy I was scared I’d never get to experience again.
It makes me worry that he’s not real and that this is just a dream. Some drug-induced world of make believe and that I’ll never get to feel his touch again. My pulse races as scattered memories assault my mind: how the lights reflected off the scalpel blade and the look in Doctor Jenkins’ eyes as he sliced into my flesh.
What if this isn’t real?
What if I wake up and I’m still there, trapped on his table and being carved open?
“Please, baby girl. Open your eyes for me. I need to know you’re okay,” he pleads, anguish lacing every word. I want to open my eyes. Confirm that this is real. That Stefano is here, and that he came for me. That I’m not at the mercy of a madman. But they’re so heavy.
The steady background beep of a heart monitor picks up its pace as my pulse races. I’m groggy and half awake, and although I’m willing my body to move for Stefano, I don’t think it’s obeying me. I want to squeeze his hand and pull him to me. I want him to hold me and never let go.
At last, my eyelids obey and flutter open.
“Stefano,” I croak. His head pops up and our eyes lock. The relief that washes over me is profound and overwhelming. I expect to see him return my smile but instead, it’s like a damn breaks inside him and he drops his head to my hand and heaves huge sobs of relief. His tears cut like a knife, telling me exactly how close I came to never waking up again.
“Shh, it’s okay. I’m here. I’m okay, Stefano,” I say, my voice cracking as I try to soothe him. He lifts his head, wiping away his tears and leaning into my touch.
I reach across with my other arm to rest my hand on the back of his head and gasp as pain lances through my chest. More bursts of memory flash up. Doctor Jenkins’ cutting into me, the drugs in my IV, but I don’t know what happened after that.
“What happened while I was out? Tell me, please,” I whisper. “What did he do to me?”
Stefano sits back, carefully running his fingers along my temple before cupping my cheek in his palm. “You’re going to be fine, Katerina,” he promises, his voice full of care and concern yet concealing so much.
I throw the slightest scowl his way and arch a brow. That’s the sum total of brattiness I can conjure in my current state. “That’s not what I asked.”
He drops his eyes, pain evident in his expression, but he obeys. “When I found you, he’d already”—he squeezes his eyes shut tight, like he’s forcing himself to say the words—“he’d already cut you open.”
I remember the incision, but as I look down at my chest and assess the throbbing ache and slices of pain that twinge with every breath, I know he must have cracked my chest. I stare at the corner of the dressing that’s peeking out above the neckline of my hospital gown, and I’m completely overwhelmed with emotion.
I might never have woken up. I could have died.
A heaviness settles in my heart when I think that I might never have seen Stefano’s face again. Never held his hand. Never kissed his lips. Just the idea of missing out on our forever has me feeling like my soul is tearing itself in two, but in spite of that, I still need to know how close I came to losing everything.
“Tell me everything, please,” I say as a tear I didn’t feel myself shedding tickles a trail down my cheek.
“The doctor said that Doctor Jen—” I flinch involuntarily at the mention of his name.“—that he performed a sternotomy, I think he called it. They had to close you up.” Stefano swallows, like the words are choking him.
“Were there any complications?” I ask, my voice calm, years of medical training drowning out the terrified woman inside me who just wants to close her eyes and wish that this isn’t true.
“No. It took them a little while to figure out how to anaesthetise you because they didn’t know what he’d given you, but they said they were able to close without any problems.” His thumb strokes gently up into my hairline and I lean into his touch.
“What about Doctor…” I try to say his name, but it dies on my lips, and I shake my head, hating myself. Hating that I was so ignorant of the danger I’d been in for so long. “What about him ?”
“He’s dead, baby girl.” His words are absolute and devoid of all remorse, and I can’t stop the relief that overtakes me or the smile that bursts forth.
Stefano came for me. He kept his promise.
“Thank fuck,” I reply, releasing a long sigh. It’s a ridiculous notion that Stefano would allow him to live for a minute longer than was necessary. “Can you tell me how it happened?”
“I dealt with him, Katerina.” He doesn’t elaborate.
“I’m going to make you tell me one day. You know I won’t let you leave it at that.” I reply, before taking his hand in mine and adding, “But if you need time? I understand.” What else do you say to a man who’s slayed a demon for you? Thank you seems so pathetic a sentiment. Instead, I say the only thing I can. “I love you, vecchietto .”
“Ti amo per sempre, Katerina.”
“Forever,” I whisper back.
“Sleep now, baby girl. You’re safe now.”