Page 3 of White Rabbit
“And if Brecklyn was your wife, what treatment would you recommend?”
His tongue dampened his bottom lip before he pulled that flesh between his teeth. He released it on a deep sigh while he studied his patient.
“I suggested the electrical stimulation to Mr.—” He cut off quickly when I growled low. I didn’t like the reminder of her boyfriend.Formerboyfriend.
My eyebrow lifted. “Finish.”
“I’ve suggested that treatment in the past, but…um…hedidn’t want to hear anything of it. Said it was too expensive for…someone…like…”
He trailed off again, and I knew he didn’t want to tell me exactly what Radomer Jovanovic a sixth for the Petrov Bratva, the former boyfriend, had said. And I decided I didn’t want to know. I already wanted to kill the man for the way he neglected Brecklyn.
I held up a hand to indicate he shouldn’t try to reframe whatever Jovanovic had said.
“When can you do the treatment?”
“I can schedule it for tomorrow.”
“And she may awake tomorrow?”
He shook his head. “It isn’t an exact science. It may take several sessions. It may not work at all. The brain is…still a mystery to medical science. We know more of its workings now than in the past but still not enough.”
I didn’t like that answer, and while I suppressed my growl of dissatisfaction, the expression on my face must have spoken it loud and clear because he stepped backward again.
He adjusted his ridiculous tie, his lips pressed tight and his hands seeming to shake as he regained his composure. Neurologists were used to being akin to God and he obviously didn’t like that he wasn’t in this situation.
I didn’t back down. I didn’t give a shit if I made the man piss himself. I just wanted Brecklyn to wake so I could take her home. I also wasn’t stupid. I understood that brain injuries and biology weren’t exact sciences.
“Do it,” I snapped. I glanced back at Brecklyn and imagined what it would be like for her to wake, what it would be like when I swept her out of here. “I want the best person in the field doing the procedure, and if it’s not you, then you will find that person.”
“I’m the best…”
He trailed off when I lifted an eyebrow. He fidgeted with his bow tie again, pulling slightly at his collar.
“Yes, sir. Oh, and sir, about Ms. Dinah Kominov,” he said, jarring us to another subject as if we weren’t standing at thebedside of my main interest. “She’s done remarkably well since she’s woken. I’ll be discharging her tomorrow.”
“Good. That’s excellent news. Follow-up?”
“She’ll need continued physical therapy for her other injuries—”
“Give the details to my men,” I nodded toward mybykiat the doorway, “and we will arrange private care at the compound. Whatever she requires.”
“Yes, sir.”
We stood silently while I waited for him to relay more information and he obviously waited for dismissal. A common occurrence.
I gestured toward the door in benign release of the invisible connection that held him there with me. Turning, I returned to Brecklyn’s side and sank onto the hard chair, most of my attention on her again—most because a portion of my awareness always remained on my surroundings.
The doctor left us, closing the door behind him.
My hand wrapped around Brecklyn’s cool, limp fingers. “Did you hear the doctor,Moya kokhána? We will try a new treatment tomorrow. Tomorrow, I will be here again. I will be nearby when they work to wake you, my sleeping beauty. You have only to open your eyes and I will do the rest.”
Chapter 3
Brecklyn Winchell
Falling… falling… falling.
Everything was dark, but I felt myself plummeting endlessly through the inky tunnel, twisting and turning with no mooring. I couldn’t move to grab at something to stop my fall. My screams made no sound.
