Page 165 of Bratva's Vow
“Don’t go yet…”
“I’m trying, Dad. I’m trying…”
It gutted me.
I kept my hand in his the whole time, tracing the rise of his knuckles, murmuring gentle reassurances he couldn’t hear. Promising him things I had no power to guarantee.
Then, just like that, he stilled. No more words. No more pleading.
Only the soft rasp of his breathing and the rhythmic hum of the machines keeping watch over him.
I should have tried to sleep. Instead, I sat there, elbows on knees, head bowed. My eyes drifted to his left hand. Thering was back on his finger—our little hospital wedding had seen to that. He’d cried several times during it, called Jess a slut for outdressing him, and vomited immediately after the “you may kiss the groom.”
It was ridiculous. Beautiful. Ours.
The chaplain had refused at first, of course. I couldn’t blame him. Wren had been clammy and half-conscious, his voice trembling with tears and delirium. I’d asked. Then I’d offered money. When that hadn’t worked, I’d promised to personally ruin the rest of his life if he refused to grant Wren’s request.
I was pretty sure I’d broken some kind of law to get married in an ICU. If challenged, our marriage probably wouldn’t hold up anywhere but my own heart. But it didn’t matter.
I was married.
To Wren.
Would he regret it when he was out of the hospital?
My phone buzzed in my pocket, dragging me out of my thoughts. I checked the screen. Sergei.
Carefully, I untangled my hand from Wren’s and slipped into the adjoining bathroom, closing the door with a soft click behind me. I answered on the second ring.
“What is it?”
“We got movement,” Sergei said without preamble. His voice was low, taut. “Archie just showed up at the doctor’s house.”
My pulse stuttered. “Leo?”
“Yeah. He just left. We’re not sure why.”
My blood turned cold. Why the fuck would Archie go there unless he was working with Leo? Leo, whose husband I’d pushed to commit suicide. Leo, who might hold a grudge that Wren and I were involved in his husband’s death. Leo, who now cared for Wren.
“Fuck, Sergei. Leo is working with him. Why did I trust the fucking asshole?”
Why did I keep making mistakes that could cost Wren his life? Was Archie right after all, and love was making me too sloppy?
“We’ll keep an eye on what happens tonight,” Sergei said. “Darius is tailing Archie. He’ll make sure he doesn’t disappear. One wrong move and we’ll take him to the spa.”
I turned to the sink, bracing myself against it with one hand, gripping the phone with the other. The porcelain felt cold beneath my palm.
“They’re working together,” I said quietly. “I’m going to gut the doctor. He’ll be happy to be with his husband again.”
“Let’s see what happens tonight. I’ve got eyes everywhere, Maxim. Trust me on this. I won’t leave any room for error.”
Trust me on this.
I’d have sworn I could trust Archie too, but now this clusterfuck. How could I trust anyone ever again?
“You’ve got to trust me, Maxim. Just because Archie betrayed you doesn’t mean you should stop trusting the rest of us.”
I clamped my eyes shut and drew in a shaky breath. I felt wrecked. Hollowed out.
