Page 28 of Ivory Oath

The nurse holds the thin, pale blue bundle of fabric out to me. I snatch it out of her hands with a perfunctory “thank you” and practically escort her out of the door. Then I unzip the wedding dress and happily let it puddle around my feet.

And as the fabric hits the floor, I remember I’m not alone in the room.

Mikhail is sitting on the window ledge, his arms crossed. But his attention is laser-focused on every inch of my exposed skin. There’s a lot of it, since I couldn’t wear my bra with the strapless wedding dress.

“Sorry,” I mutter, turning away from him.

Goosebumps that have nothing to do with the balmy temperature of the room spread down my arms. I pull the hospital gown on and reach around to find the strings to tie it closed.

“I’m going to kill him,” Mikhail snarls under his breath.

I don’t know what he means until his thumb strokes just above the raw skin around my wrists.

I wince and he drops my arm, but I can feel the warmth of him along my spine. I want to sink against his chest, which is exactly why I force myself to perch on the end of the exam table instead.

“I took your chains off in the car, but it was dark.” He forces out a deep breath. “Viviana, I?—”

There’s a soft knock at the door and then the doctor comes into the room. I’m wary of seeing any strangers right now. I just want to get this exam over with as soon as possible and get this doctor out of my life.

But it’s impossible to give Dr. Hamilton the cold shoulder. He is the kindest, warmest man I’ve ever met. He’s like the medical field’s version of Bob Ross.

“I don’t see a darn thing wrong with you, darling,” he says after a thorough ten-minute examination overseen by Mikhail. He pats my knee and reminds me of the father I wish I had. When he looks at my wrist, he clicks his tongue. “Not a darn thing except that wrist. The abrasions are angry now, but I’m going to bandage them up and they’ll be much happier.”

“Just the cuts?” Mikhail paces back and forth across the narrow room, fingers tugging at his hair. “That’s the only problem?”

“It’s all I’m seeing.” Dr. Hamilton gives sufficient eye contact to Mikhail, putting him at ease. Then he looks back to me. “Beyond that, you’re perfect, Viviana.”

“I think you missed your calling. You should be a motivational speaker,” I tease. “I haven’t felt perfect in a long time.”

Mikhail crosses his arms and paces away from the hospital bed. I don't want to think about what's going on in his head. A running list of recent examples why I’m not perfect at all, I'm sure.

Dr. Hamilton laughs, but his smile is sympathetic. “I’ll remember that if I ever consider retirement. I’ve never been good at relaxation, but I’m in my twilight years now. Motivational speaking might have better office hours.”

“Thank you for coming in. I know it’s last-minute.”

Especially considering I thought I’d be in chains and married to a psychopath by now.

“My pleasure. Now—” He scribbles something on my chart and tucks it under his arm. “—I’m going to get you set up with an IV. I’d like to see you finish a bag of fluids before you leave.”

Mikhail whips around. “You said she was perfect.”

“She is. And with some help towards rehydration, she’ll stay that way.” Dr. Hamilton winks at me. “It was lovely to meet you, Viviana. Once that bag is gone, you’re free to go.”

The doctor slips away before Mikhail can interrogate him further. A few minutes later, a nurse comes in and inserts my IV.

As she drapes the tubing over the corner of the bed and leaves, I try to name the panic sitting on my chest. It’s not claustrophobia, but it leaves me with the same dry mouth, tight lung feeling.

I’m okay. I’m safe.

But Mikhail is pacing back and forth in the corner of the room and I still don’t know what he’s doing here. Once the bag of fluids next to me is gone, I have no idea what’s going to happen to me.

Will I have a home? Will I get to see Dante? Will Trofim hunt me down and put me through this hell again?

I try to keep my breathing shallow and steady, but Mikhail is like a bloodhound, if bloodhounds were trained to know when I’m freaking the fuck out.

“What’s wrong?” He looks around the room like he’s double checking we’re alone. “Why are you upset?”

I shake my head. “It’s fine.”

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