Chapter 18 #2
By the time I returned downstairs, an SUV had been pulled to the front, the soldier easing Kirill into the backseat. Almost instantly, he became combative, his delusional state the reason.
As if on a psychedelic drug, he was much stronger or at least concentrating his efforts on driving the soldier away.
Every sound was a deep growl, every action a swing.
“I’ve got him. I’ll do this.” I jumped in, fighting him with everything I had. “Calm down, Kirill. We’re trying to help you.”
As the two soldiers climbed inside the front, I willed them to hurry.
“No. No!” Kirill railed as the driver pressed down on the accelerator. While I didn’t like it, the best bet was taking him to the hospital where I worked. At least I could treat him myself. “Head to Mount Sinai and for God’s sake, step on it.”
I grabbed Kirill’s fists before he could hit me, sensing he was starting to lose strength. His complexion was ghostly, his eyes already starting to roll back into his head.
The reaction was much stronger than I’d originally thought, which could indicate a poison that had covered the knife. No wonder the assailant hadn’t killed Kirill. He’d wanted him to die a slow death.
What in the hell was really going on?
When Kirill’s arms fell to the side, I pressed my hand against his cheek.
“Stay with me, Kirill. Please, just stay with me.” There was no reason for me to be begging him to continue breathing, fighting the horrible infection that was already destroying his body.
I didn’t have a hold on him because I didn’t want to. I couldn’t.
Or at the very minimum, I shouldn’t.
Yet with every difficult breath he took, relief and trepidation warred within me.
I pulled his head into my lap, stroking his forehead, terrified of the outcome. But there was nothing I could do. Not now. Maybe not without a miracle.
My throat hurt, likely to bruise from how strong his hold had been, but I knew the act had been done in the throes of his sickness.
As worrying as the way his body was shutting down was how he’d affected me.
I’d seen the darkness within him, the push for power and vengeance, but I’d also seen his softer underbelly in being able to shove aside his work and his need for revenge if only for a little while.
And the way he’d touched me with such intense passion had taken my breath away.
God, what was I doing? What was I thinking? He had an entire list of my life on the computer screen. Where I’d gone to school and where I’d interned before New York. And my friends. He knew my friends. Next, he’d discovered who my… boyfriend had been.
My almost fiancé.
The entire situation was ridiculous. I’d lost the one man I’d dared love on his way to propose to me and this man, this arrogant Russian prince had told me in no uncertain terms we were getting married. The irony was hysterical.
I almost laughed as nerves kicked in more than before. When a man in a crime syndicate told you that you were getting married, it was an arrangement for power. That’s why I worried for my baby sister.
Love was never the reason for marriage in our world. Because love wasn’t allowed.
His moan pulled me from the ugly shadows and I cradled his head, finding myself praying that he’d survive. Did that mean I cared about him? If so, how was that even possible?
I longed to hear his voice as he whispered my name, or to see the light in his eyes when he was amused by my banter. While I knew very little about Kirill, what I did know was that he was a hurricane, destroying everything in his path.
He was the bull in a china shop, incapable of controlling his actions when pushed beyond his means of comfort. I was merely the woman who’d challenged him.
That’s all I would be except that he’d figured out I was much more valuable.
I bit my lip, keeping my wits together. I’d need to get a story straight because it wouldn’t take long for my uncle to find out, demanding an answer on how I’d dared get involved with a slimy Russian.
With my parents still in Europe, he’d grill me as if I was one of his men. He’d do everything to make my life miserable. That’s how it worked and always had.
The weight on my shoulders was significant, but I reminded myself that right now, I was a doctor hoping to save a man’s life.
“Please hurry,” I told them. Whether or not the soldiers heard me or even cared, I couldn’t tell other than by the way the driver was maneuvering the roads. He was exceeding the speed limit. Not that his driving skills made me feel any better.
Every time I touched Kirill’s forehead, I was reminded how dire the situation was. The interior of the SUV was silent, the two men in front remaining still.
So was Kirill.
I had to check more than once to ensure he was still breathing. When we were within a few blocks, I tried to hold my resolve, having more difficulty doing so.
“Pull up to emergency.”
The two men looked at each other, obviously questioning why I was giving orders. As if I gave a damn.
“Do it.”
As the SUV was driven into the parking lot, I strained to see if I recognized any of the other vehicles. Maybe my mind was still in a fog because nothing seemed familiar.
Maybe it would never feel like home again.
As soon as the driver stopped, I rushed outside before one of the soldiers decided to restrain me. I rushed into the emergency room, holding up my credentials. “I’m Doctor Vivian Hamilton and I have a patient with me. He’s dying.”
The moment I’d stepped into the emergency room, I felt the weight of a thousand judging eyes crashing down on me. Tonight I wasn’t merely a doctor at the hospital, I was someone else.
I was the niece of one of the most dangerous and powerful men in town.
And by bringing Kirill here, I’d likely just started a war.
* * *
The constant beep of the patient monitor was a sound I’d all but ignored until chaining myself by Kirill’s bedside. He was resting comfortably, his vitals in the satisfactory range, but that didn’t mean he was out of the woods yet.
His heart had stopped mere moments after I’d brought him into emergency, his pulse still irregular. At least with a breathing tube, I was satisfied he was getting enough oxygen.
While the two men who’d brought him in had hung around for a little while, by the time I’d gone to talk to them a couple of hours later, they’d disappeared. That had prompted me to take the bull by the horns.
I’d made a phone call.
Given my family’s financial interest in the hospital, I could either wait for the shoe to drop with my uncle or provide some sense of the truth. Yes, I was well aware of what I’d risked in doing so. This was my one favor to ask my uncle. We all got them. I’d seen it in action with everyone I knew.
Besides, Sean McCarthy was still a respected businessman. He wouldn’t be eager to start a war with the Russians inside the hospital where I worked.
I’d learned a long time ago what ‘good business’ meant in the world of the mob. I’d need to leave soon so I could meet with my uncle, preferring to do so at a restaurant he frequented instead of at the hospital.
Hearing a sound behind me, I bristled, half laughing when a cup of steaming coffee was presented over my shoulder.
“I thought you could use this.”
“You don’t know how much.” I was thankful Emily had been on duty, refraining from asking any questions as she’d worked by my side for the several hours it had taken to get Kirill stable.
She moved beside me, a cup also in her hand. I barely flitted my eyes in her direction, exhausted yet wired from the horrific experience.
“I smell hazelnut,” I told her, finally offering a smile. I couldn’t budge from the chair, my legs nothing but noodles at this point.
“I raided the nurses’ station on ten. You wouldn’t believe the setup they have there,” Emily answered.
“Three Keurig machines and one that can make the frappe-lappe whatever coffee drink you like. I hope I remembered all the flavor additives. They have that too. Why can’t we have that on our floor? ”
She laughed and settled against the small window well, folding one arm as she blew on her coffee.
I took a swallow before answering her, nodding while the tasty liquid came close to burning a hole in my throat. The constant ache caused me to touch my neck.
Emily was like a hawk, catching everything. “Is it time for me to ask what in the hell is going on?”
“I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“The truth. You have bruises on your neck. There are two goons outside the door, more milling around the hospital in suits looking like guys straight out of a mafia movie, and if I’m not mistaken I could see the outline of weapons.
You brought a man into the emergency room with an obvious knife wound to which you were forced to tell the medical team the weapon was likely laced with poison.
That’s not normal, Viv. Now, why the police haven’t been contacted is beyond me, but at some point, you’re going to need to be prepared to face harsher questions than mine. ”
I laughed, surprised at the sound. “If the police arrive, they’ll be handled.”
That much I knew.
Maybe by the two goons who were outside. I hadn’t left the room since he’d been admitted so I hadn’t realized he had security keeping him protected. Of course he would.
“Is he someone famous?”
With a smile threatening to give me away, I couldn’t help but laugh. “You could say that.”
Emily didn’t say a word. While she was well aware of my family lineage, since I’d never wanted to be a part of the McCarthy crowd, a discussion had never come up.
With her silence, I lifted my head. She sighed and looked away.
“Did he hurt you? This patient?”
“He didn’t mean to,” I answered. “You need to remember how high his fever had been. He was out of his mind.”
“Which begs the question, where were you before he had his attack?”
Attack. If only she could understand how significant her choice of words was. “We were at a house he rented while staying here on business.”
“Really? Where did you meet him?”