Viktor(29)

I sigh. “And then Viktor passed out from the blood loss. I dragged him to the car and brought him back here.”

“That’s a brave thing you did,” Winston says. “Driving him back here.”

“Yeah … I don’t know why I did it either.” I bite my lip.

“Well, I’m glad you did.” Winston smiles at me, and I smile back. “He’s not ready to go yet, even though he’s talked about it often,” he mumbles.

I don’t know what, but something about this man makes me feel relaxed. It’s as if he can put people at ease with just a smile, which is probably why Viktor has kept him around for all these years. Those two must have some kind of special bond. Like my sister and I … only different. It’s kind of admirable.

Winston removes Viktor’s pants, exposing the pure muscle hiding underneath. I swallow when I see the big bulge in his boxer shorts, trying not to let my mind go there as Winston prods at the wound in his thigh.

“Oh, boy … these will need to be removed,” he says, pointing at the bullet. “Luckily, I know just how. I just hope he won’t wake up yet.”

He walks off and comes back a few minutes later with a weird metal object that looks like a set of tongs. In his other hand, he holds a tray with a sewing kit. He grabs the table and places it in front of Viktor, putting the tray and tongs on top. Then he drags a chair toward him and sits down, using the tongs on him first.

“Can you hold him still?” he asks before diving in. “Just in case he wakes up.”

“Oh, right,” I say, and I grab his arm to expose the wound in his shoulder.

Winston digs around inside, trying to find the bullet while I try not to look. I can’t believe he’s actually doing this … Then again, I bet it must be handy to have someone like him around for when you get into serious trouble.

I hear the metal clatter onto the tray. The first bullet’s out.

Winston moves to Viktor’s leg and pushes around until he can get a hold of the bullet and pull it out. I grab the cloth again and wipe away some of the blood that seeps out as Winston puts a thread through a needle. As he starts threading, I look away again. For some reason, I’m okay with blood, but needles make me sick.

“There,” he says as he makes a knot. “As good as it gets.”

“It looks good,” I say. “Better than before, at least.”

“Guess all those years of taking care of an animal like him really does rub off,” he says, making me grin.

He puts a few layers of cotton on top of the wound and wraps plastic and tape around it, sealing it off.

Suddenly, Viktor makes a throaty, painful sounding noise.

“See? Animal,” Winston whispers, winking at me as he gets up and picks up the tray. “I’ll be right back.”

I watch him leave and then return my attention to Viktor.

He’s groaning and tensing up, his face contorting. “Fuck …” He pronounces each letter separately as if he doesn’t know how to speak anymore.

“Shh …” I say, grabbing his hand. “Don’t rush it.”

“Wha … happened?” He coughs.

“Remember the cop?”

He nods slowly.

“He shot you. Twice. And then you hit your head.”

“Oh … right.” He makes a face. “Wait … he’s the guy who tried to—”

“Yeah. I don’t want to think about that,” I say. “Why would a cop do that anyway?”

He swallows but doesn’t answer, and the room grows quiet. His eyes open slowly, revealing a pristine blue color that almost feels like it could pierce my skull. For the first time, I see the real man behind the mask. A man with cool-blue angelic eyes stares straight back at me.

But the strangest part is something I never expected … He’s beautiful.

I’m in awe. Literally, I don’t know what to say.

He looks at me while grimacing, and his hands reach for his wounds. I whip his hand away. “Don’t open it. It’ll get infected.”

“It fucking hurts,” he growls.

“I know, but it’ll hurt more if you put your filthy hands on them.”

“Filthy?” He grimaces, but I can’t stop focusing on his full lips.

“Yeah. You’re a pig.” I cross my arms and raise my brow. “Fuck’s sake, Viktor, when did you last shower?” I sniff the air for added drama. “First thing we’ll do once you’re up again. Get those smudges off your face too.”

“You … know my name …” he murmurs.

“Yeah, Winston told me. And it’s not like I don’t hear you guys talk.”