Page 152 of His to Own

“Goodbye, Elena.” He walks in one direction and I go in the other.

Maxim is waiting for me outside. Without a word, he picks me up in his arms and carries me to the car.

“I can walk,” I object.

“I know. I just wanted to do this.”

“But people are staring.”

“Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?” His classic, charming smile. It makes me blush every time.

“No. I just want to be able to walk on my own.”

“Just let me carry you to the car. For me.”

I lean into his arms and stop fighting. “All right.”

Once we’re in the car, I tell Maxim that there’s someplace I need to be.

The beeping of the hospital machines is loud in my ears. The smell of disinfectant is strong in my nose.

It’s all a little overwhelming but I have to be here because I need to check in on Polina.

She was shot in the leg and is still recovering in the hospital from it. I bring her another book to read.

“Thank you,” she says, clutching the book to her chest. “I was going stir crazy in here without something to read.”

“I brought you a book yesterday.”

“I already finished it.”

“That book was over four hundred pages.”

She shrugs and opens the new book I brought. Maxim waits outside her room. I know how much he scares her and right now, Polina needs to focus on healing instead of being afraid.

The police questioned her about the shootout and she lied, saying that after she was shot in the leg, she blacked out and couldn’t remember anything. Nikolai handled the rest, making sure the police on his payroll looked the other way and cleaned up the mess that Aleksander caused.

That’s the power of Nikolai Smirnoff. I get why Maxim wanted to make a deal with him.

“How are you today?” I ask, sitting down in the chair beside her bed. It’s hard for me to stand too long. The pain in my stomach returns. Once I get back to my full health, I can start doing yoga again and re-training my ab muscles. But for now, I just need to get through each day at a time.

“My leg hurts less. They said I could go home tomorrow. I was able to finish all my essays and tests from here.”

“That’s good. I’m sure you’ll get a perfect score on everything.”

Polina shrugs. “Obviously.”

“Obviously,” I repeat.

Polina sets her book down and looks me in the eye. “Thank you. For bringing this to me. You didn’t have to. I’ll be honest. When you first showed up here, I wasn’t sure I wanted to see you. After that night at the poetry reading…” She shudders. “I knew your husband was scary and involved in shady stuff but I never thought I’d get shot because of it. Is this what being your friend is like? Being in danger?”

“Yes,” I answer honestly. “It is. You don’t have to be friends with me, Polina. Not if you don’t want to. I would completely understand.”

She bites her lip, thinking, before she sighs. “No one else has brought me a book every day for the past week. I don’t have any other friends.”

“So does this mean you want to remain friends?”

“Well, we never did get the chance to become friends in the first place. And now we’re both cripples.” She nods at her leg that’s propped up on an elevated foam wedge.