Chapter 14 - Abe
The sting of antiseptic bit into my wounds as I watched Pippa pace the medical room, her heels clicking a nervous rhythm on the tile floor in her attempt to collect more supplies. How the hell did I end up here?
I shifted on the chair, wincing as the movement pulled at my bruised ribs. Pippa's gaze snapped to me, worry etched across her pretty features. Even flustered, she was a sight to behold—all lush curves and warm eyes that seemed to see right through my bullshit.
"You should be in your room, not wearing a hole in the floor," I said, trying for a cocky grin. It probably looked more like a grimace.
She crossed her arms, red-painted lips pursing. "And you should have called ahead and called for a doctor since you were hurt instead of trying to sneak in like some kind of wounded alley cat."
I chuckled, then immediately regretted it as pain lanced through my side. "Meow?"
Pippa rolled her eyes, but I caught the hint of a smile. "This isn't funny, Abe. You could have internal bleeding or—”
"I'm fine," I interrupted, waving off her concern. "Nothing a bottle of vodka and a good night's sleep won't fix."
Her lips thinned, clearly unimpressed by my bravado. I sighed, remembering how I'd ended up in this predicament in the first place.
Just an hour ago, I'd been sitting in the back of my car, instructing my driver in no uncertain terms to keep his mouth shut about my condition.
"Not a word to anyone, Dmitri. I'll handle this myself," I'd growled, pressing a hand to my bleeding side. I had planned to sneak into my room.
"But sir," Dmitri had protested, eyes wide in the rearview mirror, "you need medical attention—”
"What I need," I'd cut him off, "is for you to do your damn job and drive. I'll slip into my room and patch myself up. No one needs to know about this little…incident."
I'd always prided myself on handling my own messes. As the muscle of the Unholy Trinity, it was my job to get my hands dirty. But this time, things had gotten a bit messier than anticipated. Still, no reason to worry the others. I had a reputation to uphold, after all.
As I stepped out of the car, wincing at the pain shooting through my side, I froze. There, standing in the driveway with her arms crossed and a worried frown on her face was Pippa. She rushed toward me, face etched with concern.
Before I could protest, she'd looped my arm around her shoulder, supporting my weight. I had to admit, I was impressed by her strength. For all her prim and proper appearance, Pippa was no delicate flower.
"Come on, you stubborn man," she muttered, leading me toward the house. "Let's get you cleaned up."
Back in the present, I watched as Pippa gently dabbed at a particularly nasty gash on my arm. Her touch was surprisingly tender, a stark contrast to her earlier brusqueness.
"You know," I drawled, trying to lighten the mood, "if I'd known getting beaten up was the way to get your hands on me, I'd have done it sooner."
Pippa rolled her eyes, but I caught the hint of a smile. "This isn't funny, Abe. You could have been hurt worse or—”
"I'm fine," I interrupted softly, not allowing her mind to go there.
Pippa's eyes flashed with annoyance as she pressed the antiseptic-soaked cloth against a particularly deep cut on my ribs. I hissed, more from surprise than pain.
"Damn it, Abe," she muttered, her eyes flickering to mine with concern. "What the hell happened out there?"
I leaned back slightly, giving her room to work as I recounted the events that led to my current sorry state. "Just a little scuffle with some unwanted guests," I replied nonchalantly, though inwardly, I cursed my luck. “We were on track to finding the man you saw with Tony when these goons tried to circumvent us.”
“Someone was protecting him,” she observed, with that keen eye of hers.
"I told Ivan and Vlad to hang back while I handled it," I explained, watching Pippa's expression shift from worry to curiosity. "You should've seen it, Doll. Five of them, thinking they could take me on. Man, I put on quite the show, you know? Had them begging for their lives, but then others joined in.”
I leaned in closer, lowering my voice conspiratorially. "First guy came at me with a knife. Amateur move. I had him disarmed and on the ground before he knew what hit him."
As I recounted the fight, I could feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins again. "The second and third, they tried to double-team me. But I'm not called the muscle of the Unholy Trinity for nothing."
I demonstrated a quick one-two punch, careful not to jostle Pippa as she worked. "Left hook to the jaw, right uppercut to the solar plexus. They went down like dominoes."
Pippa's hands stilled for a moment, her eyes wide. I couldn't tell if it was admiration or horror in her gaze, but I pressed on.
"The last two, well, they were the smart ones. Tried to run." I chuckled, then winced as the movement pulled at my injuries. "But not smart enough."
For a moment, I let the cocky grin slip, admitting, "Though I'll give them credit, that last big bastard got in a few good hits before I put him down."
I gestured to the gash Pippa was tending. "Hence the souvenir."
“Not much for a souvenir, is it now?” she hissed back. Was that fear and anger I heard in her voice?
I sat back while she continued to clean. “What happened then?” she asked.
“Well, Ivan and Vlad are on the heels of the second group that helped this bunch. We lost track of the man from the casino’s whereabouts.”
She sighed in disappointment. There truly wasn’t much else to be said. The room fell silent as Pippa finished cleaning the last of my cuts. I watched her delicate fingers work, noticing how her brow furrowed in concentration. It struck me then how much trust I was placing in her—something I rarely did outside of my brothers and the Vadims.
After she was done bandaging my arm, she turned to me with a question burrowed in her brows.
“What?” I asked, out of curiosity.
“Why did you… let yourself get so involved when things turned south? You should have left the fight before…” She motioned at all my injuries.
I regarded Pippa for a moment. It wasn't often that someone questioned my actions, especially not with genuine concern like she was displaying now.
Leaning back against the medical room table, I let out a sigh. "I couldn't just walk away, Pippa. Loyalty means something in our world," I said, my voice quieter than before. “The Unholy Trinity, the Vadims… we've got each other's backs, no questions asked."
Pippa's green eyes met mine, a flicker of understanding passing between us. "I get that," she replied softly. "The Vadims… they're more than just employers to me."
I raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "Oh yeah? How so?"
She hesitated, her fingers absently tracing the edge of a bandage on my arm. "My aunt and uncle… they weren't exactly the Brady Bunch," she said with a bitter laugh. "My aunt and uncle used me as their personal ATM. They treated me like I was nothing more than a burden."
My jaw clenched, a wave of anger surging through me at the thought of anyone mistreating her. "Sounds like they need a visit from the Unholy Trinity," I growled.
Pippa's lips curved into a small smile. "As tempting as that is, the Vadims already took care of it. They gave me a job, a purpose… a family." Her voice softened. "They showed me what loyalty really means. Every Christmas, they thought of me. They know about my dreams, keep hiking up my pay. This one time, I was really sick and every single day, I had homemade food at my doorstep. When my family tried to emotionally blackmail me into giving them more money, it was Vlad Vadim and his wife that stopped me."
I nodded, understanding all too well. "Funny how the people society calls 'criminals' can be more stand-up than your own flesh and blood sometimes."
"Exactly," Pippa agreed, her eyes shining with a mixture of gratitude and fierce loyalty. "The Vadims saw something in me when no one else did. I'd do anything for them."
I nodded, my own mind rushing back to the past. “Where were your parents?” I asked, hoping to understand the true extent of her suffering.
She went quiet for a moment, lost in thought, before she sighed. “They died,” she said, in a choked voice. “When I was only six. I barely remember them, just snippets of moments that seem like dreams now."
The pain flickered in her eyes. Now, I understood why she had those high walls around her, why she used them as armor.
“Oh, Pip,” I murmured, the sadness heavy in the air. “I lost mine too, when I was young.”
“Looks like we’ve got more in common than I thought,” she whispered with a small smile. “And clearly, the Vadims are intent on picking up all the orphans they possibly can.”
I found myself laughing at her attempt to lighten the mood, deeply admiring the courage she just displayed. “We’re fighters, you know?” I said with a small smile, knowing she’d understand why I didn’t leave the fistfight when things got hard.
“Hopefully, the fight will end someday,” she said, stepping away from me. The conversation had turned heavier than I thought, and I could see her expressions mirroring my sentiments. Sometimes, just when everything is getting better, life has a tendency to remind us of our darkest moments.
“You’re all patched up,” she said, closing the first aid kit. “I recommend food and rest. Go on up. I’ll have the maids bring you some dinner.”
I cleared my throat, desperate to buy a few more minutes with her. "Thank you. I've got to say, Nurse Pippa, your bedside manner is much better than Ivan's. Last time he patched me up, I thought he was trying to finish the job my opponents started."
Pippa's lips quirked into a smile, her green eyes sparkling with amusement. "I'll be sure to let him know you prefer my gentle touch," she teased, a hint of sass in her voice.
I chuckled, feeling the heaviness in the room dissipate. "Please do. Maybe he'll finally admit defeat in at least one area."
She shook her head, still smiling. "You Ustinovs and your competitive streak. It's a wonder you haven't turned the whole world into a battleground."
"Who says we haven't?" I winked, enjoying the easy banter between us.
As Pippa gathered the stuff to be thrown away, I found myself captivated by her movements. The way she tucked a stray curl behind her ear, the confident set of her shoulders—it all spoke of a strength I hadn't fully appreciated before.
Without thinking, I reached out and gently caught her hand. The warmth of her skin against mine sent a jolt through my body. "Hey," I said softly, my usual bravado faltering. "Thank you. For this, and… for trusting me with your story."
Pippa's eyes widened slightly, her cheeks flushing a delicate pink. For a moment, we just looked at each other, a current of understanding passing between us. I felt the facade I'd built around myself had started to crack, just a little.
"You're welcome," she whispered, her fingers giving mine a slight squeeze before she pulled away.
As she headed for the door, I found myself already missing her presence. "Same time next week?" I called out, only half-joking.
Pippa turned back, her green eyes twinkling with mischief. "Let's hope not, Mr. Ustinov. I might have to start charging you for these services.”