Page 80 of Lord of Pain
"If the blood of your enemies is what you need, I will bring you their heads, as long as you say yes," he says, placing slow kisses down my neck.
"Yes," I laugh. "I love you. I am happy to be Mrs. Roman Morozova, I mean, now that I know I'm already married."
This part, at least, is just like the movies. Roman slides the ring on my finger and it fits perfectly, he picks me up, spinning me around as he kisses me fiercely.
"What are you two doing?"
It's Ella, pulling off her scrub cap, looking at us quizzically. Ava's right behind her, her face drawn with exhaustion.
"How- are they-" Roman sets me down, hands shaking. Dmitri strides down the hall, wrapping his arms around Ava.
Ella smiles, her weary face alight. "They're both going to make it. Your father was shot in the chest, the upper right side, a clean through and through. Alexsey…" Her face crumples and Ava steps closer, lending Ella her presence. "We couldn't do much more than stabilize his arm. There's so much damage to the bone; the radial and median nerves are-"
"We've already been in contact with the best hand specialist in the country," Ava says. "He's an incredible surgeon. We sent a jet to Boston to pick him up."
"Can we see them?" Dmitri's voice is hoarse, he has to clear it to finish the sentence.
"They're both unconscious, but go ahead," Ella says. "I doubt I could stop you." Roman and Dmitri push through the doors leading to the recovery room, leaving us in the hallway.
"Can I get the two of you a cup of coffee strong enough to stand a spoon in it?" I offer. "Some wontons or fresh fruit? Kabobs?"
"I see someone dragged the clinic's chef out of bed," Ella says, ruffling her matted hair.
"You have achef?"I blurt.
"You get used to it," Ava says, patting my arm and heading for the food.
Chapter Thirty-Six
In which there is hard news to share.
Roman…
My father still looks formidable, even in a hospital bed. He is ghostly pale from the blood loss, his five o'clock shadow standing out in stark relief. Tubes and wires bloom from him, winding into machines monitoring his vitals and IVs that deliver blood and saline back into his body.
He's still thePakhan.Even unconscious, he radiates an energy that makes you think he's going to sit up and pull out a Desert Eagle, mowing down the bad guys.
"When the bullets started tearing through the dining room, he dove in front of Mother," Dmitri says. "Shooting with one hand and pushing her out of the way with the other. He was lying in a pool of blood in the freezer, but she kept him alive."
He may be recovering from a chest wound, but sheer stubbornness forces Father back into consciousness as Dmitri and I are standing there. His polar eyes open, gaze sharp and fighting the effects of the anesthesia. "Who's dead?"
"Canton is gone. His wife and son are uninjured," Dmitri says, wincing as Father's eyes narrow. "Roman has Krasniqi's son chained up at Gordi's."
"Good." One word, heavy with fury. "Other casualties?"
"We didn't lose any other guards, Roman and Alexsey got there in time." Dmitri's voice grows hoarse. He doesn't want to say it.
"Alexsey charged Krasniqi." I force it out. Father listens, his expression like stone. "He got the fucker's AK-47 away from him but his arm, it's bad."
"Which arm?" I know what Father is asking. Alexsey paints with his left hand.
"It's his left arm."
"Ah." He closes his eyes for a moment, refusing to share his grief. "I know you two will handle any problems. Send your mother in."
Mother is already at the door, a huge smile transforming her face when she sees he's awake, flying across the room as he holds out a hand to her. They whisper, foreheads pressed together and Dmitri and I leave. Their little bubble is too intimate for us to watch.
Ava meets us in the hall, wrapping her arms around Dmitri. "Violet is showering," she says, "Ivan had one of your men deliver clothes for you both. Did she really finish off those two Albanians in herweddingdress?"
