Page 26 of Forced Bratva Wife

“Securing the gauze, Igor. So I need you to keep really still, all right?”

Igor just gave Parker a quick nod. What Parker didn’t mention to the guy was that by “securing the gauze,” what she meant was squeezing the hell out of his leg. I let him clamp down on my hand with his own and watched as Parker got his covered and compressed completely. Igor flinched against the pressure, but I’ll hand it to the fucker. He did his best to hold still.

“All right. You’re going to be okay.” Parker flicked her eyes up to me, another silent command in the room, this one asking me to step away with her.

“Okay, asshole. You wait right here while I go chat with the doc. Maybe I’ll be nice enough to give you the rest of the day off, huh?”

We both laughed and then I stepped to the quiet corner of the room where Parker was waiting. Her brows were down over her eyes, a serious weight to them, and she stood with her hands on her hips.

As I approached, she took the lead, meeting my eyes and beginning her rundown of what was going on with Igor.

“You need to get him to a proper hospital. I’ve stabilized him, and the bleeding has pretty much stopped, thanks to the pressure, but that won’t last forever. He needs antibiotics in case of infection and sutures. I don’t have my medical equipment or sterile facilities, so I can’t do it here. Should’ve left the knife in. Had the doctors remove it. You’ll need someone to take him, and the transport must be gentle.”

Parker seemed…It wasn’t flustered or nervous. I had never actually witnessed her actions. It was more like she was focused, speaking the details out loud so that the entire world had a record of what was done and what needed doing.

“I’ll be sure to tell him to leave the blade in his meat next time.”

Sarcasm chewed through me, but only because I wasn’t sure what to do with the tingling rumble in my veins. I’d seen plenty of men die—ones I’d killed and ones I wanted to stick around. It didn’t bother me anymore. So whatever this was, it wasn’t that.

Parker glared at me as she crossed her arms over her chest. The motion drew my attention to the blood covering her hands and sleeves, her clothes in general. She’d done a hell of a lot of work for Igor in those few minutes, and she was right. He needed to get to the hospital.

Turning over my shoulder, I searched for Pietor in the crowd. He was parked on the floor near a set of men who were popping his shoulder back into the joint. As it slid in, he grunted low, holding his arm to his stomach to keep it still.

“Pietor!” He looked up at my voice. “Get Igor to the hospital. Go to one of our regulars. Have someone look at that shoulder, too.”

“Please don’t jostle him much!” Parker added. “He needs his leg to stay elevated and compressed.”

Rolling his eyes, Pietor nodded. He stood up from the floor and ordered the uninjured men around him to help with Igor.

The frantic energy of the room backed off, and I was left standing in a room full of slightly moaning men. Parker eyed me hard before going to check on the remaining assholes who were suffering from her father’s bullshit. It didn’t take her long to give each of them the go-ahead to get some rest in their own rooms, and then it was just the two of us.

As she walked over, her soft curls haggard from being hastily tied back in a ponytail and her white shirt stained with blood, Parker brushed a stray hair out of her eyes with the back of her wrist. It wasn’t really working, so I reached forward, tucking the curl behind her ear.

We hung there in silence for a moment, but then the gravity of what Parker had done made my stomach clench, a tension headache crawling up the back of my skull.

“Why did you help? You’ve made it pretty damn clear that you don’t want to be here, and you don’t like me or my men.”

Parker sighed, her stare going to the floor. “I almost didn’t, honestly. But I’m a doctor, or at least a single step shy of being one, and people were hurt. It’s my duty to do something.”

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “Duty? Really? Come on, you have no reason to help any of us. Kidnapped, right?”

She shook her head. “Look, I’m not explaining this to you. I helped because it’s what I do. This is who I am. Can’t you just be grateful?”

Squinting at her, I balled my hands into fists. “Grateful?”

I stepped away, and at once, I remembered where we were. Parker was in the entry with me instead of her room where I’d left her.

“How the hell did you get out of my room anyway?” I bit out the words, frowning down my nose at Parker.

“That’s what you’re concerned about?” Her voice pitched up, and she raised her brows at me, her mouth falling open slightly. “Christ! You didn’t lock the door. God, you’re right. Why did I help you? I should’ve just run, but for some reason, I actually came back here and helped Igor.”

She stepped forward, her smaller stature only coming up to my chest, but still, she glared at me, her eyes as sharp as daggers.

“He might still lose that leg, you know? Guess it’s better than dying, though, huh? Which is what would have happened if I weren’t here. So you’re welcome.”

“Oh, no. You’re not getting me to offer some bullshit ‘thank you’ when I know you have ulterior motives.”

“Ulterior—You can’t be serious!”

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