Page 30 of The Bratva's Hunted Bride
But the waiting is excruciating. As I pace the halls, I focus on what actions I can take right now, rather than on how useless I feel. The first thing I need to do is identify who those men were, which means reaching out to one of my siblings. I weigh my options, trying to decide who will give me the least amount of grief for vanishing, and I settle on Oleg. Diomid would be a dick about it and Valery would needle me.
Oleg picks up quickly. “Hey man, what’s up?”
I need to word this carefully. They have no knowledge of Talia beyond the initial request for information about her. If they find out I took her, they’ll absolutely flip on me for starting shit with the Popovs, especially when Matvey isn’t around.
“I need your help. Got ambushed by some men, and I need you to get them cleaned up and identified. Second time they’ve jumped me.” I spit out the address and hear Oleg typing away on the other side. He’s never far from his laptop.
“You okay?” he asks, still typing. “Is that why you haven’t been around? Valery’s been losing her mind over how cagey you’ve been, by the way. You’re going to have a whole mess ofshit to deal with when she sees you. Probably better if you’re gravely injured, actually. Go for the sympathy angle.”
I groan, but Valery’s a problem for the future. “I’m fine, but I need this intel soon. Make it the top priority and drop whatever else you guys have planned for today.”
He stops typing, and his tone goes serious. “Shit, okay. We’re on it. Want to meet up when I get the info, or should I call it in?”
“Call me,” I say, stopping in front of a tinted window that looks out over the parking lot. It’s one-way glass, a necessity given the identities of most of the good doctor’s clients. Thankfully, the lot’s still empty. I don’t think we were followed, but I’ve thought that before.
“Got it,” Oleg replies, and I know I picked the right sibling. He’ll have questions, but he knows it’s not the time to ask.
We hang up, and now there’s nothing to do but wait. Just as I’m about to start climbing the walls, the doctor appears, tugging her surgical mask off.
She smiles in that professional, distant way. “Everything is fine. She’ll make a full recovery. We removed the bullet and got her stitched up, and she’ll regain full use of her arm in time.”
I exhale shakily. “She’s awake? Can I see her?”
She catches my arm before I can blow past her. “More than anything, she and the baby need rest right now.”
Time slows even as my heart starts to race. My voice sounds distant, like it’s coming from someone else. “Baby?”
“At this point in her pregnancy, rest is important. She shouldn’t be in situations like this.” The doctor’s tone becomeslecturing, as if I planned to put Talia in danger, but I let it slide because I’m still reeling.
A baby. Whose baby? Is it mine? I think back to the first time we slept together. Has she been pregnant this whole time and hiding it from me? I should’ve seen it. Shouldn’t I have noticed something? Fuck. I consider myself her protector, and I miss something this obvious.
“Why don’t you have a sit,” she says, steering me over to a chair in the corner beside a potted plant. “And the nurse will get you when you can go in and see her. She’ll bring you some coffee, okay? And maybe a shirt.”
Numbly, I let myself be steered into the chair. The nurse appears a few minutes later with a steaming cup of coffee, and I down it like a shot, praying it’ll steady my nerves. Talia is pregnant. And the baby might be mine.
Chapter 14 - Talia
The room lights are dim when I wake up. I’m groggy, and my eyelids feel as if they weigh a hundred pounds each. There’s a dull ache in my arm, nothing like the pain from earlier, and a heaviness in my head that tells me I’m still under the effects of sedation. And I’m not alone.
Timofey sits in a chair beside my bed, elbows on his knees, watching me. His face looks as serious as I’ve ever seen it, hard as chiseled stone. Memories of the events that brought me here swirl together, and I struggle to remember everything that happened. A car chase. Those men. The recoil of the gun in my hands and the horrible sound of it firing.
I killed someone. Nausea roils in my gut, and it has nothing to do with the medicine coursing through my system. Someone was dead because of me. Never in my life did I imagine having to do something like that. My brothers had kept me so far removed from anything violent that the idea of ever holding a gun, never mind firing it, was laughable. And now…
Beneath the crisp white sheet, I bring my hands to my stomach and press against the skin there.Are you okay?I want to ask her, wishing for the hundredth time that I could already feel the movements of her inside of me, for a reassuring kick against my palm that would tell me she’s alright. Protecting her meant protecting myself. I try to hold that thought against the wave of guilt and disgust washing through me as I consider what I’ve done.
“The baby is just fine.” Timofey’s words send a cold shock down my spine. His tone, like his expression, is completely flat.
He knows. The doctor must have told him, must have discovered it during the exam. I’m flipped on my side, facing him, and there’s nowhere to hide from his cold, grey gaze.
“Timofey,” I begin, but he cuts over me before I can get another word out.
“Is it mine?” he demands, and I wish there were even a hint of heat to his words, some display of emotion. This robotic demeanor is somehow a thousand times worse than anger would be.
I nod and bite down on the side of my tongue to ground myself. “Yes. It’s yours. There… there hasn’t been anyone else since I met you.”
He shifts in the chair. “So you did know you were pregnant. How long have you known?”
I flip onto my back so I don’t have to look at him as I answer, staring up at the blank white ceiling instead. “Early. When I missed my period that first month, I just had the feeling something was different, so I tested and they all came back positive.”
