Chapter 11
ALEXEI
The wait brought back memories of when Demitri was shot a year ago. I lost a couple of years of my life from worrying whether I’d lose my best friend back then.
I’m standing in the hallway, leaning back against the wall and lifting my left arm, I check the time on my watch.
They’ve been working on Isabella for almost four hours.
Tristan walks toward me and holds out a bottle of water. “Drink something.”
Taking the bottle, I twist off the cap, and then I chug down a couple of gulps. I place the cap back on the bottle then toss it to Tristan. “Happy now?”
He catches the water with a chuckle.
“You don’t have to hang around with me,” I say. “Go home to Hana.”
Tristan shakes his head. “Demitri will kill me if I leave you here alone.”
“Fucking babysitters,” I grumble, only making Tristan chuckle again.
Just then, the doors at the end of the hallway open, and I push away from the wall as Dr. West comes out.
I stalk toward Tristan’s aunt, asking, “How is she?”
“What’s the patient’s name?” Dr. West asks instead of answering me. The woman is a genius and way too fucking practical, which makes her forget about the emotional side of things.
“Isabella.” Locking eyes with Dr. West, I ask again, “How is she?”
“The surgery went well. We removed a bullet. It entered through her chest but luckily missed her lungs and settled above her diaphragm. She also has a recent bullet wound to her left shoulder. A hack-job was done removing that bullet, so I cleaned the wound and stitched it up. Her left forearm has a small hairline fracture, and she has a head injury. Other than that, she’s okay. Dr. Oberio will keep a close eye on her during the next twenty-four hours.”
“So she’ll be okay?” I ask to make sure.
“Isabella should make a full recovery.”
Nodding, I let out a breath of relief. “Thank you.”
“Can I go?” Dr. West asks.
“Sure.”
She hesitates, then says, “I trust things are now settled between us?”
I nod. “Of course.”
Dr. West turns her attention to Tristan, but then I think to ask, “Can I see Isabella?”
“Yes,” she replies, gesturing to the doors.
Leaving Dr. West with Tristan, I quickly walk down the length of the hallway and push through the double doors. Dr. Oberio glances up from where he’s making notes at a small nurse's station. There’s only one nurse on duty.
There are only three rooms, all with glass partitionings, situated around the small nurse’s station. The underground hospital serves the purpose if one of us needs medical attention.
“Mr. Koslov,” he says, a smile forming around his lips, and then he gestures to a room. “She’s in there.”
When I step inside the room, my eyes instantly fall on Isabella, where she’s lying on a bed, hooked up to various machines. The beeping is incessant, and it has me asking, “Is she okay?”
“She will be. Obviously, she needs some time to heal,” Dr. Oberio replies. “What name can I put on the form?”
“Just put down Koslov,” I instruct, so there’s no trace of Isabella being here.
I gesture to the machines. “It doesn’t sound like she’s okay.”
“It’s for us to monitor the patient’s vitals. Normal procedure.”
I fucking hate the noise but try to ignore it as I step closer to the bed. My gaze locks on Isabella’s way too pale face, and the weird sensation shudders through me again.
Christ, this shouldn’t have happened.
‘She also has a fresh bullet wound to her left shoulder. A hack-job was done removing that bullet…’
Isabella probably got shot last night, and knowing that she still jumped for the fucking helicopter.
Shaking my head, I reach for her hand. As my fingers close around hers, there’s a sliver of relief when I feel her skin is warm.
“You’re too brave for your own fucking good, little one,” I whisper.
Dr. Oberio pushes a chair closer. “Sit, Mr. Koslov.”
As I take a seat, I ask, “Do you know when she’ll wake up?”
“We’re expecting her to regain consciousness in the next couple of hours.”
Nodding, I turn my gaze back to Isabella’s face, and then I just stare at her. This is the longest I’ve been able to look at her, and I take in her beautiful Latino features. Her high cheekbones give her a regal look.
A fucking goddess.
I brush my thumb over the back of her hand, her skin silky soft.
My heart constricts, and I shake my head, but then I still, inspecting my emotions. I’m obviously attracted to Isabella and fuck, her strength demands my admiration.
My gaze drifts over her face again.
You’re strong enough to survive at my side, but how the fuck do I capture someone as wild as you?
I let out a soft chuckle thinking she’s probably going to lose her shit the moment she wakes up, and then drag her ass out of the hospital. She’s stubborn enough to do it.
Movement grabs my attention, and my eyes dart to the doorway as Demitri comes in. “How’s she holding up?”
“Okay.”
“Come on. I’m here to take you home so you can shower, eat, and sleep. It’s not negotiable.”
I’m tired as fuck and in no mood to argue with Demitri. Letting out a sigh, I look at Isabella again before getting up. I follow Demitri out of the room, then stop by the nurse's station. “Call me if there’s any change.”
“Yes, Mr. Koslov,” the nurse replies.