Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 66833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
I happen to glance at Alexei in that moment and catch him frowning at the device.
For a second, I’m confused, but then it dawns on me.
Is he afraid I’ll abuse this like I’ve done with pain pills in the past?
On impulse, I touch his hand to get his attention. “I won’t,” I say quietly in Russian when his eyes meet mine. “I won’t even push the button. You don’t have to worry.”
For some reason, despite the difficult road ahead, I don’t feel the same need to escape reality as I did in the past. I don’t know why that is, and I’m not ready to delve too deeply into it.
Alexei’s stare is piercing, even as his reply is soft. “Okay. I trust you.”
My breath escapes in a soft exhale, and I look away, not wanting to acknowledge how his words make me feel.
I trust you.
Why does he? He shouldn’t. We’re still enemies, or at the very least adversaries in this relationship he’s forced us into. But he said he trusts me, and for some reason, I believe him. Does that mean I trust him? The man who puppet-mastered his way into my life using both violence and guile?
Once again, I don’t know, and I don’t want to think about it. The headache that I woke up with is getting worse, and I’m starting to feel mildly nauseated.
I close my eyes to combat the sensation, and when I open them next, my brothers are standing over me, with Alexei behind them, and it’s getting dark out.
I must’ve drifted off without realizing it.
“Hey,” Valery says softly. “You’re awake. How are you feeling?”
He’s speaking slowly, as if I’ve lost the ability to understand language. Which, I suppose, I could’ve. I mean, they cut into my freaking brain.
I don’t know what prompts me to do it, but I make my face go slack and emit a zombie moan before growling in a mixture of Russian and English, “Brains, mozghee, brains…”
Valery sucks in a sharp breath, his face going a shade paler as he exchanges an alarmed look with Konstantin, but Alexei lets out a crack of laughter.
I grin, glad at least someone got the joke.
“Are you messing with us?” Valery asks incredulously, looking back at me, and I nod, laughing.
“Sorry. The opportunity was too good to miss.”
Konstantin cocks his head. “It was, wasn’t it? I take it you’re feeling okay.”
“I am. Definitely.” And it’s true. The headache is better, and I’m no longer nauseated. I’m also feeling a bit… euphoric.
Shit. Did they pump something into my IV while I was out? If so, I’ll have to tell them not to. I promised Alexei I wouldn’t abuse the pain meds, and I don’t want the doctors to make a liar out of me.
I’m not sure why it matters to me so much, that I don’t betray Alexei’s trust in this, but I gave my word and I intend to honor it… even if the way I’m currently feeling is nice. So nice that—
“That’s it. You’ve seen for yourself that she’s fine, and now she needs to rest,” Alexei says, no longer laughing, and I blink, realizing I’ve closed my eyes again. “You can visit again tomorrow, and I’ll send you an update as soon as we get the pathology results back.”
I’m about to object, but he’s already herding my brothers out of the room, so I let my lids drift shut and enjoy the pleasant sensation of only a mild headache and no nausea.
A low murmur of voices and some beeping pulls me out of another inadvertent nap.
I open my eyes and see that it’s still dark.
A nurse is in the room, speaking quietly with Alexei as she checks my vitals. Noticing that I’m awake, she asks me a few questions, including such basics as my name, the current year, and who the president of Russia is. I’m tempted to pull the zombie routine on her, but I don’t. Instead, once I answer the questions to her satisfaction, I tell her, “No more pain meds,” and then I reiterate it as she fiddles with my IVs.
“Alinyonok…” Alexei’s voice is gruff as he steps up to me. “You don’t need to—”
“I do. I want to see how I really feel.”
As I speak, I notice the dark circles under his eyes and the thick stubble on his jaw. Has he been at my side this whole time? I look past him and spot another bed in the room, a hospital gurney with unmade sheets that they must’ve recently wheeled in here.
My chest squeezes. He has been here this whole time. Why? He could’ve gone to sleep at his nearby penthouse, in his luxurious, king-sized bed. He knows I’m getting the best medical care money can buy, and if anything had gone wrong during the night, he would’ve been only minutes away. But he insisted on staying here, in my hospital room—just like he’s been at my side at all times ever since this nightmare began.