I pushed those thoughts aside, though. I’d have to deal with them later, once I knew Daniela was okay. Because she would be. There was no other choice.
About a minute later, Adrian led a woman who was about thirty into the room.
“Take care of her,” I said.
She nodded and went to work, donning latex gloves and then peeling the dress from Daniela’s shoulder.
The wound was ragged, looked like every other bullet wound I had ever seen. But it was on her, my beloved Daniela. On instinct I moved, but the doctor held up a hand.
“Let me check her out,” she said.
Then she began to probe the wound, her eyes sharp. Daniela seemed to be slipping in and out of consciousness, but the doctor still tried to be tender.
“She’s lost some blood, but she’s not in immediate danger. I need to know if that bullet is in there,” the doctor said.
“If she—” I said.
The doctor raised her hand again, cutting me off. “Let me work.”
I froze, reason telling me I needed to back off. Then I turned, looked at Adrian.
He left, and I knew exactly where he was going. I’d be there soon enough, but for now, I went to the opposite side of the desk, reached for Daniela’s hand.
For the first time in my life, I prayed.
Twenty-Six
Sergei
What felt like an eternity later, I settled Daniela in our bed gently. I’d taken her to a small clinic, and the doctor had mended the wound and then given her some strong painkillers.
After I arranged the covers around her, I slid my gaze to the doctor and by unspoken agreement, we left. When I looked at her again, she started to speak.
“The bullet went through. No bone splinters, but it’s going to hurt like hell,” she said.
“What do I need to do?” I said.
She reached into her bag and then retrieved two bottles that she thrust into my hand. “Antibiotics and painkillers. Watch her for fever. I’ll come back tomorrow.”
And she was gone just that quickly.
I stood a moment, then went into the room and kneeled at the bedside, holding the hand on Daniela’s uninjured side.
The rage I felt was deep, but not uncontrollable. There would be a reckoning for this, but I didn’t want her to see it. Right now, she just needed me to be there for her.
I kneeled there for a couple of hours and then finally she stirred.
She shifted, then grimaced.
“Stay still,” I said.
She grimaced again. “I’d hoped that was a really messed-up nightmare,” she said.
“It wasn’t,” I said.
“Yes,” she replied.
“Why?” I asked, giving voice to the question that was only second to my worry.
“I chose you,” she said.
Were this another time, I would have celebrated that admission, but now, that news had been marred by Santo.
“I chose you, Sergei,” she said again. Then her eyes drifted shut and she fell into what looked to be a deep sleep.
I let go of her hand and saw that the covers were again settled around her, her words reverberating in my head. She’d chosen me. That made me happier than anything I had ever heard.
By tomorrow, she would regret that choice.
After quickly going down the stairs, I went to Adrian. I wouldn’t trust anyone else with her. Not now.
“Stay with her. You know where to find me if you need anything,” I said.
He nodded and then I left.
I left Adrian and exited the house.
Vincent stood, watching. “How is she?”
“Shot,” I said.
Even speaking the word threatened to bring me to my knees, and it was only my anger, my absolute devotion to seeing her injury avenged that kept me moving.
I stopped in front of Vincent, stared at him. He stared back waiting.
“Did you have anything to do with this?” I asked.
I almost didn’t recognize my own voice, so thick and tense with emotion, anger.
Vincent shook his head. “No.”
He spoke with certainty and as I searched his eyes, I didn’t see any hint of a lie in them.
“Do you know who did?” I asked.
That he himself hadn’t done it didn’t mean he didn’t know who was behind it, that he hadn’t participated.
“I can guess,” he said, his voice brimming with disgust.
“Did you help them?” I asked.
“No.”
“I hope you’re not lying to me, Vincent,” I said.
“I’m not. Daniela and I have our history, but I wouldn’t shoot her, and I would welcome the opportunity to kill anyone who would,” he said.
“You’ll have your chance,” I said. Then I began to walk toward the SUV. “You’re driving.”
I tossed the keys at him and then got into the passenger side. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t allow such a sign of weakness to come out, but it couldn’t be avoided.