Chapter 29
MARI
Iwake to an awful smell. Hospitals all smell the same: antiseptic, plastic, and a faint sweetness that turns my stomach.
I blink until the ceiling comes into focus.
The lights are too bright, and everything hurts.
My throat is raw, my head is pounding, and my arm stings where the IV is taped.
When I try to move, a low groan slips out.
“Easy, princess,” Yuri says, his voice steady and close. “You’re safe now.”
I turn my head and find him sitting in a chair pulled close to the bed.
His hair looks wild, and he’s holding a coffee cup I doubt has anything resembling coffee in it.
His jacket is tossed over the back of the chair, his sleeves rolled up, and his gun holster is still clipped at his side.
No one in this hospital is going to mess with him.
“How long have you been here?” I ask, my voice coming out weak and scratchy.
“Since we brought you in,” he says.
“You don’t have to stay,” I murmur. “Go home. I’m fine.”
He snorts. “You think I’m leaving you alone after all that? Lev would kill me.”
I smile faintly, though it hurts. An image flashes through my mind, and suddenly I’m back in the woods, watching Lev push Marcus against a tree. Marcus’s face is battered and bloody, and his eyes are full of fear.
“He wouldn’t kill you,” I say weakly, even though I realize now that Lev would kill for me. He proved that.
“Fine, he wouldn’t kill me,” Yuri agrees.
I sink back into the pillow, my heart heavy. I shouldn’t feel guilty. None of this was my fault. But it’s hard not to.
“Don’t look like that,” Yuri says. “He’s fine. Everyone’s fine. You’re fine. That’s all that matters.”
I nod slowly. “Where is he?”
“Lev?” Yuri takes a sip of his drink and winces. “He’ll be here soon.”
There’s something in his tone that tells me not to inquire further. I already know what that means. I close my eyes, seeing flashes of the woods again, and hold back a shudder.
The doctor knocks lightly before coming in. She’s young, maybe my age, with tired eyes and a kind smile.
“Glad to see you awake,” she says softly. “We’re going to do a quick exam and check you over. You have a lot of open wounds, and we’d like to make sure there’s nothing more serious.”
I glance at Yuri. “You can go,” I say quietly.
He shakes his head. “Sorry, I can’t. I have strict orders not to leave your side.”
I glare weakly at him. “I’m not being examined with you in the room.”
“Then I’ll stand behind the curtain,” he says, completely unbothered. “But I’m not leaving.”
“You’re unbelievable,” I mutter.
“I’ve been called worse,” he says, smirking as he moves to the corner.
The doctor watches our interaction warily but goes about her work, checking my vitals and inspecting the bruises on my arm and shoulder. She keeps her voice gentle and professional, but I can tell she’s seen worse. When I tell her I’m pregnant, she smiles knowingly.
“They baby’s okay,” I whisper. “Right?”
“We’ll have the ultrasound tech come in and check,” she says, her voice sympathetic.
The tears come before I can stop them. I press my hand against my stomach, still flat but now so fragile it feels sacred.
The doctor squeezes my shoulder. “No matter what happens, you’re alive, Mari. And that’s worth a lot.”
A few minutes later, the tech comes in and runs the ultrasound. She easily finds the heartbeat and tells me the baby looks great. It’s strong and completely unbothered by any of the stress my body went through tonight.
Yuri awkwardly holds up his phone, asking a question with his eyes.
“Since Lev isn’t here,” he says, “and your phone is God knows where.”
I nod and let him take a photo of the ultrasound, relief washing through me as I look at my baby.
When the tech leaves, I look over at Yuri and laugh weakly.
“Lev’s going to be jealous that you were here and he wasn’t,” I tell him.
Yuri smirks in response, just as the door opens again. I don’t need to look to know it’s him. I feel him before I see him, like a magnetic pull. When I do meet his eyes, I start crying again, so relieved that he’s alive and that he’s finally, finally here with me.
He’s changed clothes, I notice. He’s wearing dark slacks now, a simple black shirt. His hair is damp, like he just showered. I’m struck again by what happened.
Yuri stands. “I’ll go check with the nurse.”
“Yuri,” Lev says, voice low but steady.
“She’s fine,” Yuri answers, already heading for the door. “Don’t shoot anyone.”
Lev waits until the door closes before crossing to me.
He moves more slowly than usual, like he’s trying to hold himself together.
I reach out and take his hand. It’s warm.
His fingers curl around mine instantly, and that’s when I see the small cuts on his knuckles.
He notices me looking and hides his hand behind his back, but it’s too late. I know what he’s done.
“Are you hurt?” he asks quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“I’m fine,” I answer honestly. I’m in some pain, sure, but I don’t want him going after the hospital staff.
His brow furrows. “What did the doctor say?”
“She said the same thing I’m saying,” I tell him gently. “I’m fine, Lev. We’re fine.”
His hand goes to my stomach without hesitation. His touch is cautious, reverent.
“The baby?”
“Perfect,” I whisper. “Yuri has a photo.”
His jaw tightens. “Yuri saw my child before I did?”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t start,” I warn. “He said he didn’t want to be shot in the leg for leaving me. We really need to talk about your anger issues.”
His mouth twitches, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he bends and kisses my forehead.
“I love you,” he murmurs. “You scared the hell out of me.”
“I know,” I whisper. “I was scared, too. I really didn’t think I’d be here now. I was sure tonight was it for me.”
He exhales like he’s been holding his breath for days.
Then he stands and walks around to the other side of the bed, sliding in carefully.
I move over to make room for him. He stretches out beside me and pulls me against his chest. I feel his heartbeat against my cheek, strong and steady.
His arm comes around me, heavy and safe.
For a long time, neither of us speaks. The machines hum softly. The world outside fades away. All I can think about is how warm he is, how alive I feel just being near him. When he finally speaks, his voice is rough.
“I thought I lost you,” he says into my hair.
“I’m right here,” I promise him.
He presses his lips to my hair. “You have no idea how worried I’ve been all day. I’ve never felt so out of control.”
“You can’t go around shooting people,” I tell him.
He looks down at me, eyes soft but unrepentant.
“You were missing. I’d set the world on fire if it meant getting you back.”
I don’t argue with him. There’s something incredibly humbling about being loved like that. I snuggle deeper into his chest.
“I’m glad he’s dead,” I admit quietly.
Lev doesn’t answer. He just holds me tighter. I know what happened in those woods. I know what he did. I also know he’d do it again if he had to. There’s blood on both our hands, one way or another, and neither of us will ever be clean again. But at least we’ll be unclean together.
After a while, the nurse comes in to check my vitals and tells me I can go home in the morning.
Lev refuses to wait that long, stating he has a personal physician on calls to see to all of my needs.
He signs whatever forms she hands him, and by midnight, we’re in the car heading back to the penthouse.
The ride is quiet. Streetlights flash across his face as he drives, and I watch the tension in his jaw, the way his hand grips the wheel. He looks calm, but I can tell he’s still wired from everything that happened. I reach over and rest my hand on his arm.
“You don’t have to protect me every second,” I say softly. “We can breathe now.”
He glances at me, then back at the road. “Maybe you can. I don’t think I’ll ever breathe easily again.”
“Lev.”
“I saw him holding a gun to your head,” he says quietly. “That’s not something I’ll forget.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I don’t. I just take his hand and hold it until we reach home.
When we pull into the garage, the guards stand a little straighter. No one speaks. They just nod and look away. Lev helps me out of the car, even though I tell him I can walk. My legs still ache, and I’m grateful for the steady arm around my waist.
When we get inside, he takes me straight to the bedroom and tucks me in like a child.
I don’t argue. My body is so tired, so heavy, that I think I could fall asleep in seconds.
But I don’t want to take for granted how good it is to be here with him, to have him taking care of me.
I force myself to stay awake a little while longer.
He examines my arms, looking at the places where the hospital cleaned and bandaged all the cuts and scrapes I got in the woods. He frowns as he checks me over, at least as thoroughly as the doctor did.
“Nothing’s broken?” he asks.
“No.” I shake my head.
“And the baby is fine?” he asks again, as afraid for our child as I’ve been all day.
“The baby is healthy,” I confirm, smiling. “I heard his heartbeat. He’s so strong, Lev.”
He takes my face in his hands, gently swiping at a tear I didn’t realize had fallen. He stares at me with such adoration and love that there’s no doubt in my mind that everything Marcus said to me was a lie. Lev loves me enough to burn the world down for me. And I love him just as much.