4. Bradley #2
Just behind him, dressed in a white coat with glasses balancing on the edge of her button nose, walks in the doctor.
She’s spent more than her fair share of time patching me up over the years, so it’s a familiar sight to see her approaching my bedside with the usual weary expression filling her eyes.
“Bradley,” she says gently. “How are you feeling?”
Frank ducks his head and scurries away. At the door, he flashes me one last appreciative look that betrays his relief that I really am okay, and I return that look warmly. I’ve never had a more loyal bodyguard, and now I owe him my life.
The checkup with the doctor goes smoothly as she examines my wounds, cleans around the injuries, and redresses me in fresh gauze and bandages.
Another dose of morphine sends me right back into the world of rest, despite my best efforts.
My dreams this time are mostly of the river, the churning, freezing water, and snippets of fear rising between the waves.
There are countless times in my life when I’ve faced down the barrel of a gun and not always walked away, but this was the first time I felt a real brush with death.
The next time I wake, there’s a note from Damian.
He sent a courier with flowers, a box of chocolates, and an apology that I took two bullets trying to find out the truth for him.
At the end of the note is a scribbled request for information that I’m not quite willing to give him yet.
Despite being involved because of him, I deserve answers first. His note ends up balled up in the trash after one throw, but my success isn’t enough to persuade the doctor to discharge me.
Slowly, the days trickle past. I’m caught between utter boredom, restless dreams, and a slow healing process that leaves me clawing at the walls desperate for release.
I’m not a man who does well being locked up.
Despite my distress, a week passes swiftly.
My fresh wounds turned into raw pink aches that become second nature once I’m off the morphine, and I can’t stay lying down for one day longer.
I’m in the middle of redressing when there’s a soft knock at the door. Ruslan, the Ace of the Suit, walks in with a concerned crease between his brows.
“Bradley.” The surprise in Ruslan’s voice is barely hidden. “I didn’t expect to see you up and around.”
I bite back a wince as I pull my shirt across my broad shoulders. Pain twinges across my chest, but I shove it down into the depths of my gut. “I can’t stay here a moment longer. Being locked up for a week is torture.”
Ruslan grunts softly in agreement. “I know the feeling.”
Turning to face him, the concern in his eyes is as thinly masked as his tone.
I can tell he wants to ask more about how I am, but I’m thankful that he doesn’t.
I’m already at the end of my rope, and the last thing I need is everyone reminding me that I took two bullets to the chest from someone who’d never held a gun before.
“Do you have something for me?” I ask, eyeing the tan folder clutched in his left hand.
Ruslan glances down and nods. “Damian sent you that get well soon card, right? So I followed the courier back to where he was hiding. Seems your getting shot made him turn tail and lock himself up in his old estate. Scared that if someone could shoot the King, then he doesn’t stand a chance.
So much for a captain. Huh?” Ruslan rolls his eyes.
“Anyway, we had a very brief heart-to-heart, and he gave me all the information about his incoming shipments moving through the docks. Took even longer to get the truth out of him. You remember that conversation you overheard?”
I nod slowly, threading my belt around my waist.
“That group robbing the jewelry store wasn’t just after those diamonds.
I mean, they were, obviously, but not just them because they’re nothing compared to the grass diamond they swiped straight from the ship.
If it weren’t so ridiculous, I’d honestly be impressed.
” Ruslan hands me the file. “Another group, four people, cheated their way onto the ship, took the crates, and waltzed right off with the forklift.
No one batted an eye. I had to persuade Damian not to deal with the dockworkers too quickly in case they‘d seen anything that would be of use.”
Taking the file from Ruslan, I open it to find other carnival masks caught on grainy CCTV. What is this dude’s obsession with the carnival? Does he want to stand out?
“Grass diamonds?” I ask. “What are those?”
Ruslan shrugs. “I’m not entirely sure, but I know that they’re uncut and really fucking expensive. Raven’s best guess is black market got rough diamonds.”
Our eyes meet. “What?”
“Rough diamonds? Uncut? Diamond in the rough… grass, etcetera? Listen, it’s code. That’s all that matters.
“Uncut,” I repeat, and my stomach sinks. If the leader of this group gets those diamonds to a gemstone specialist, they’ll be cut up and in the market before we can blink, making them impossible to track.
“Shit. Okay. Maybe we’re overlooking something bigger?” I sigh deeply, ignoring the painful protest of my chest. Glancing back down at the folder, an unsettling feeling forms in my gut. This situation feels more delicate than I’m used to.
Ruslan wanders closer, his eyes running over me as he seeks the answers to the questions he’s not going to ask. “Or they’re just stupid. You have to admit the people around us sometimes get far too cocky and never expect the little guy to make a play for their riches.”
“Maybe.” I stand perfectly still, letting Ruslan take me in, and after a moment, he seems satisfied that I’m not going to topple over.
“I’m going to deal with this.” I close the folder and hand it back.
“Revenge?” Ruslan asks.
“Answers,” I reply.
Suddenly, a wide, cocky smirk spreads over Ruslan’s face, and he nudges at my shoulder with his fist. “Look at you getting involved in something personal.” He can barely contain his amusement. “I never thought I’d see the day.”
I grunt, but he’s right. “What can I say? If it wasn’t for you and Ivy and everything that happened last year, I never would have accepted Damian’s call in the first place.”
Ruslan’s smile somehow grows wider.
“But don’t get cocky,” I say. “Your ego’s big enough.”
Ruslan points his fingers at me and finger guns with a grin. “I’m never gonna let you forget that you said this.”
“Don’t count on it,” I reply as I move to the door. “I’m still high on morphine.”
Ruslan follows while laughing softly. “You want some help tracking down wherever it is you’re going to track down?”
“No. At least not yet. There’s somewhere I want to visit first.”