“I’m not going anywhere.”
At some point, I’ll have to leave her to catch a few hours of sleep so I can charge my batteries. Layla needs me to stay sane. I won’t be much use if I’m exhausted or starving myself. But I won’t move until Carlton arrives at the hospital. He’s the only person I trust to keep Layla alive while I take a break.
“Spades, Vince, and some of my men called,” Julij says, peeking into the room before letting himself in, eyes on Layla. “Morte closed the order. The news is spreading rather fast.”
“We can expect him in Moscow anytime now. I have his son. He didn’t know he had one, so he’s determined to do as I say. His ex is under Nate’s supervision too. Morte’s supposed to meet me here once he calls off the hit.”
“His ex? Why didn’t you gut the whore when the order came out?!” Julij snaps.
Under normal circumstances, I would’ve snarled at him, but the circumstances are far from normal. I don’t intend to waste my breath or shred my tongue on bickering with Julij. Besides, his emotional reaction is, in part, understandable.
“She ran away years ago. I almost forgot she existed.” I look at Anatolij. “I hope you won’t mind if I invite Morte to your house. I have something to tell him.”
“Not at all. I’ll send my men to the airport. They’ll let us know once he lands.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Dante
Three cups of coffee and three hours later, I’m still at Layla’s bed, watching the monitors as I try to decipher the charts. I even attempted to check her dressing as delicately as my calloused hands allowed.
Layla won’t mind adding another scar to her ever-growing collection, but I will die a little under an avalanche of remorse every time I’ll look at it.
With another cup of shitty, lukewarm coffee from the vending machine, I return to her room, and minutes later the door opens again. Lew stands in the doorway, his hand outstretched to show Carlton the way inside as if he can’t cross a fucking threshold without a map.
He drops a small travel bag on the floor by the wall, eyes focused on the many monitors around the room. “How is she?” he asks Layla’s notes already in his hands. Two vertical lines on his forehead tell me he doesn’t understand much of the Russian scribbles.
“Her heart stopped. The doctor here says she’s too weak.”
“He’s not wrong,” he murmurs, glaring at her chart. “She’s weak. She lost a lot of blood. Couple it with anesthesia, a blood transfusion, all the meds, and...” He pauses, eyebrows drawn together. He saunters back to check the notes, and it looks like his mind is doing two hundred miles an hour. “No blood-thinning meds? Why?”
“Fuck if I know, Carlton. Do I look like a doctor? This is beyond my fucking comprehension. All of it.”
Good thing he knows me well enough not to take offense over my snappish tone. We grew up together, so Carlton’s on a first-name basis with my commanding nature.
“Wait here,” I say. “I’ll get the doctor.”
I leave the room to come back five minutes later with the attending, Julij, and Anatolij. Carlton’s in his element, unplugging Layla from the monitors.
“Tell him I need access to radiology,” he snaps, wheeling the bed toward the door.
“I speak English,” the doctor retorts, crossing his hands over his chest. “We did an echo after the cardiac arrest. We haven’t found a clot.”
“Itisa clot. Her heart will stop again. It’s just a matter of time. Why didn’t you give her any blood-thinning meds?”
“She didn’t need them. There is no clot. I know how to do my job. An angiograph will strain her heart that much more.” His eyes jump between Anatolij and me. “She might die during the procedure.”
Carlton scoffs, shaking his head a firm no, eyes boring into mine as he taps his foot on the floor, urging me to hurry up and take care of the admin side of things.
“Like I said before. Whatever Carlton says, goes.”
The doctor huffs, face red as he glares at Anatolij. “I will not be held accountable if something goes wrong.” He turns to Layla’s bed and helps Carlton unhook the IV bags. “The radiology is three floors down.”
“Stay here,” Carlton tells me when I move to follow. “Believe me when I say you don’t want to watch this. It’ll take a while. Go grab a coffee. I’ll find you when I’m done. Or better yet, get some sleep. You look like shit.”
“Have you seen you lately?”
He elbows my ribs. “It’ll take a while to prep her and do the procedure. Once that’s out of the way, I’ll still need to get rid of the clot, so you’re looking at a good few hours wait.”