Hurt

by Rachel Van Dyken

  “Yes.”

  “On the whole list?”

  That list had been the bane of my existence. It was the one thing Petrov needed from my family, the one piece of evidence that could keep him from having the feds breathing down his neck—the only leverage I had from my father’s death that could keep me free from Petrov’s grasp. But I had gone one step further and asked a family friend to help with riding the line—playing both sides. I wasn’t going to trust my future to a crooked bastard. I was going in with my eyes wide open and my back wired by the feds.

  “Yes.” I nodded once. As I handed the folder over, I struggled with holding still. With the package delivered, I needed to get out. Now.

  “Well done,” Sergey remarked as he placed the folder inside a leather pouch. ”I feel compelled to ask, this cannot be traced, correct? As we discussed?”

  “Untraceable,” I lied.

  “Well then…” He puffed his cigarette. “I believe this concludes our business.” He extended his hand once more.

  I took it, noticing the tight grasp of his fingers as different than before. Glancing up, I narrowed my eyes.

  “Though I’m certain it’s not necessary. If you’ve tried anything untoward in this transaction…” He leaned forward slightly, the stale smoke causing my eyes to water. “It will not end well for you.” He blew a puff of smoke in my face, chuckled, and turned to walk away. Max was watching his back the entire time with his hand resting on a sidearm. His gaze never strayed from mine until they entered the car and drove away.

  Holding my breath, I waited till the SUV left the lot, then ran.

  That was the last thing I remembered.

  “Daphne!” Sofia’s voice shocked me from the intense memorization of my anatomy book. Finals were creeping up on me, and with my clinical trials ahead, I didn’t want to miss anything.

  “Sofia?” I called, confused at the desperate edge to her voice.

  I stood from my bed, stretching away the aching tension in my body from lying in one position too long. Walking out the door, I almost ran into her.

  “Daphne, you need to come with me. Right now! It’s Konstantin. I — I don’t know what to do.” Her face was tear-streaked and red, like she had been crying for a while. The whites of her eyes were bloodshot and wide, full of fear. My heart thumped wildly. Whatever had happened wasn’t good.

  “Of course! Whatever you need.” Before I could finish the last word, she was gripping my sleeve and pulled me down the stairs and toward the door. Jude was waiting in the car, his hands over his face. When Sofia opened the passenger door, his head shot up. “I’ve never been so happy to see you in my life. We gotta go.” His face was tight, as if his expression was frozen and unmovable.

  Sofia was hardly in the car before he peeled out of the driveway.

  “Seriously, Jude, it’s not like someone’s bleeding to death. Slow down!” I scolded. The houses in our quiet neighborhood went by in a blur as he sped down the normally quiet street.

  “No, Daph. That’s where you’re wrong. There is blood, and he might not make it,” Jude bit out, accented by Sofia’s sob from the back seat.

  “What?” I whispered, my heart freezing my chest.

  “Konstantin… It’s a long story—“

  “Which you’ll explain later, full disclosure.” I stared at him, waiting till he nodded once.

  “Fine.”

  “If he’s so bad, why not take him to the hospital? I’m just a student nurse—“

  “No hospitals!” Sofia shouted. Then, as I looked back, she covered her mouth as if saying too much.

  “But you want your brother to live, right?” I asked, knowing I sounded harsh, but really? If someone was dying, go to the hospital! It was not rocket science.

  “Because she doesn’t want to see her brother go to jail,” Jude finished, his gaze never wavering from the street.

  “Uh… that changes things.” I swallowed. “So Konstantin— You know what? Never mind… okay. Tell me his injuries.” My mind raced a thousand miles an hour. Konstantin is a criminal?

  A badly injured one, with enough bad history to make him a candidate for the big house.

  Awesome.

  “He has a gunshot wound that looks like it’s a few days old… honestly, Daph, I’m the business major, not the medical one. He just looks like shit. Blood everywhere… Damn it. Margo is about to lose it.”

  Margo was Sofia and Konstantin’s mom. The short woman had more personality than a crowd, and I loved her for it. The usually unflappable woman was probably reaching her breaking point. Who wouldn’t?

  “He’s at your house then?” I turned to Sofia.

  “Yeah… he… the idiot drove himself there from Seattle. How he didn’t pass out — or worse — on the way is… I don’t even know.” She wiped her cheeks, smearing some mascara in the process. Glancing around the car, I picked up a few napkins and handed them to her.

  “Thanks.” She gave me a watery smile. “I’m just so happy you’re here. My brother will be in good hands.” She hiccupped, her breathing choppy as if trying to hold back another onslaught of tears.

  “I — I’ll do my best, Soph. You know that.” I reached back and placed my hand on her knee, squeezing it once, faking a courage I didn’t feel.

  Hell no. I did not feel.

  But if there was one thing I had been taught in class, you can’t let the patient or the family see you lose it.

  Or, that you’re about to lose it.

  Holy crap, I hadn’t even seen the patient yet, and already my heart was pounding so hard I could take my pulse from my ears.

  The rest of the drive was in silence, allowing me to try and pull it together. As Sophia’s house came into view, I took a calming breath, trying to lose myself in the familiarity of the place. Tall, quaking aspens fluttered in the desert wind. The sand-colored stucco house with limestone stairs had Sophia’s Mercedes parked out front.

  “Here we go.” Jude unclicked his seatbelt and jetted out of the car, immediately helping Sophia as he opened her door.

  As I got out of the car and walked toward the house, Margo opened the door before my hand reached the large wrought-iron knocker.

  “Daphne! I’m so thankful you came! I’m — I’m sorry to — to pull you into this mess. I just don’t know what to do.” Her soft brown eyes filling with tears. “I don’t know what to say. He refuses to go the hospital, saying they’ll put my baby in jail! Can you imagine? When Jude suggested we get you — you’re an angel, sweet girl.” She pulled me into a tight hug then quickly released me. “He’s over here.” Her warm hand grasped mine and tugged me down the hall. We passed the oversized kitchen and media room then moved into a part of the house I hadn’t visited. “I think he’s sleeping, but I’m not sure. He may have passed out from the pain,” she whispered, her tone wavering.

  I nodded and placed a hand on her shoulder in a weak attempt to comfort her, then turned to walk into the room. The air was stale with the scent of sweat and an iron undertone that reminded me of giving blood at the Red Cross. The room was larger than I expected, and it took me several strides to make it to the large, wooden-framed, king-size bed. At first, I could only see Konstantin’s outline, his dark hair as his head rested on the pillow, facing the French doors on the opposing wall. The navy comforter rose slightly with the rhythm of his breathing.

  At least he’s breathing. That means he’s obviously still alive.

  As far as profound thoughts went, it wasn’t the greatest, but it did provide me a huge amount of relief. Now I just had to make sure he stayed alive.

  I took a calming breath and walked around to the other side of the bed. Immediately, I could see the contusions around his eyebrows, casting shadows over his bruised eyes. The lacerations weren’t deep, but they weren’t clean either, which would easily cause an infection. That was the last thing he needed right then.

  The rest of his body was hidden by the blanket. Glancing up, I saw Margo, Jude, and Sofia all hoverin
g near the door, as if trying to give me space but wanting to be next to him at the same time. Choosing to ignore them, I gently tugged on the blanket so it slid from his shoulder. He was bare-chested. A tribal tattoo crisscrossed his bicep and an odd tattoo was stamped on his forearm in the shape of a sickle. His olive skin was smooth, which accentuated the valley and hills of his biceps. No bullet holes, which meant that the injury was probably on his other shoulder. How he was putting weight on it, I’d never understand, but I needed to see it.

  Rubbing my hands together, I tried to warm them so my icy fingers would not wake him. With the utmost care, I gently pushed his shoulder till he rolled onto his back, offering me a better view of the other shoulder. His breathing hitched, and I glanced up to his face, wondering if he had woken, but his eyes were still closed.

  Just hovering above his skin, I carefully traced the angry red cut that seemed to pierce through his shoulder. It looked like a knife had tried to hit his jugular but was deflected and slid across his chest and shoulder instead.

  What the hell had happened to him?

  The cut didn’t appear too life threatening, but it wasn’t the bullet hole Sofia had mentioned. Confused, I looked up to where she watched from the doorway and shrugged.

  Shaking her head, she pointed toward his legs.

  Of course it was lower.

  Was he wearing anything under the lower half of the blanket? I was about to find out.

  Glancing up to his face once more, I jumped as piercing blue eyes watched me with cool distaste. “If you wanted to see me naked… all you had to do was ask, Daphne.”

  I blushed painfully, but then something strange happened.

  Anger.

  How dare he put his family through this mess and then joke about anything?

  “As if you’re in any condition to be impressive,” I shot back and tossed off his blanket. It was both a disappointment and a relief when I saw his black boxers. My gaze traveled the length of his long legs to his calf, where blackened blood caked a bullet hole.

  “Well hello there,” I whispered under my breath.

  “Please tell me you didn’t just talk to it,” he mumbled, his voice weaker than it had been a moment before.

  I ignored him but felt a warm blush tingle in my face. “I need to see the back of your leg. If I help you, can you bend your knee?”

  “I don’t need your help,” he bit out.

  I raised my hands in surrender and stepped back, waiting.

  Slowly, he raised his calf, his face twisting in pain that he unsuccessfully tried to hide.

  Leaning forward, I examined the entrance and exit wound, thankful I wouldn’t have to go bullet fishing. “At least it went clean through.” I slowly put my hands on his leg, feeling for an elevated temperature that would hint at infection. His skin was warm, but not too warm. “Good. It looks like you’re not nursing an infection so far.”

  “I’m going to live?” Konstantin asked, his tone dry. I tried to ignore the sexy stubble of the black beard that accentuated his sharp jaw.

  “Maybe,” I shot back, “if you can avoid guns, knives and other objects that create this kind of mass destruction on your hot mess,” I answered, totally distracted as I leaned closer to study the wound.

  “You think I’m a hot mess, huh?” Konstantin asked, his tone amused and pulling me from my study of his leg.

  “Huh?” I turned to him, confusion furrowing my brow.

  “You— Never mind.” He shook his head. “So what do we do now?” He slowly laid his leg straight again with a hiss of pain as he rested the wound against the once-white sheets.

  “You got off lucky. It looks like we just need to clean you up a bit and possibly get you an x-ray. It’s a waiting game now.”

  “Shit.”

  “Really?” I turned to him, my temper snapping. Of course, I wasn’t exactly known for my long fuse, being a redhead and all, but I seriously felt like I was going to lose it.

  “You don’t get it.” He shook his head and closed his eyes as if impatient with me.

  “I… you have so much to be freaking thankful for right now. You don’t have infection, you don’t have a stab wound that hit an artery, you don’t have to find me a kitchen knife so I can fish out some stray bullet trying to shack up in your freaking leg. Yeah, let’s swear about having to wait a bit and heal. You’re family sure is irritated at all this good news. Why don’t you aim that sunshine and rainbows in their direction. Because they aren’t worried! Nope, I distinctly remember Sophia not crying her eyes out as she begged me to come here and try and help your sorry ass.” I threw my hands up and walked away.

  “Uh, Daph?” Jude stepped into the room as I started to stomp out.

  “What?” I snapped, hugging my arms around my chest.

  “Take a breath…” He placed his hands on my shoulders, his weight relaxing me.

  “Think of it like this. Remember when Bear tried to bite you?” he asked, his grey eyes meeting mine.

  “Yeah…” I answered, remembering when our German shepherd had been hit by a car. His back leg had been broken, and he’d stumbled to the corner of our front yard. I was only six. I didn’t know that wounded animals reacted completely different than usual. Bear snapped at me when I tried to touch his bloodied leg. Jude pulled me away just in time and explained how you never approached a wounded animal. They were irrational. Bear was fine after a trip to the vet and a cast, but I never forgot the wild look in his eyes the moment before he snapped at me.

  “Think of Konstantin as Bear right now… wounded animal, Daph. Give him some slack.” Jude shrugged.

  “Dang it… I hate it when you’re right,” I grumbled.

  Chuckling, Jude pulled me into a quick hug “But for the record, I’m glad you chewed him out.”

  “Thanks.”

  Jude was right. I wasn’t looking at the situation correctly, and I was way too emotional about it all. If I couldn’t control myself, I wouldn’t be any help. What kind of nurse would I be then? The pounding of my heart reminded me to slow down, relax and think.

  “Margo? I need you to find me some peroxide, some clean rags, some bandages, and lots of warm water.”

  She nodded quickly and disappeared. Jude walked over to Sophia and pulled her into a one-armed hug, tucking her into the comfort of his body. A pang of loneliness sliced through me. What would it be like to have that same kind of love?

  Shaking my head, I walked back over to Konstantin. “I’m sorry I lost it,” I mumbled as I pulled the sheet back again.

  He shrugged.

  I watched his face, searching for something familiar, something that would take me back to when he’d brought me coffee, a faint reminder of the guy I remembered.

  Nothing.

  Margo brought in the supplies. Wordlessly, I dipped a clean rag into the warm water, making sure it wasn’t too hot and started to clean his knife wound first. “If you guys don’t mind, can you give me a minute? It’s kinda killing my concentration knowing you’re watching my every move.” I paused, waiting for them to react.

  “Oh! Sorry.” Margo pushed the other two from the doorway, and they disappeared into the hall.

  I sighed in relief and turned my attention to the caked blood. Layer by layer I removed the dirt, sweat, and dried blood till the wound was clean enough to bandage. It had to hurt, yet he didn’t say a word, but his chest was tense as if bracing himself from my gentle cleaning.

  “I’m trying to be careful,” I murmured as I placed the gauze over the wound and taped it in place.

  “I know… thanks.” Something in his tone had shifted, and I met his intense gaze. “And please, only my mom calls me Konstantin… when she’s pissed. Call me Khan.

  “Ok,” I answered, frozen. His gaze was so direct, completely different than the stony indifference before. There was an edge of something wild, yet it wasn’t frightening as much as it was alluring. Solid determination mixed with awareness left me breathless. Forcing my focus to his injury, I tu
rned to his wound once more. “How did it happen?” I asked, unable to contain my curiosity.

  “It’s not important,” he answered, his tone weary as if carrying a weight too difficult to bear.

  “Hmmm… I’d like to think that if I were going to almost die for something, it would at least be important,” I commented as I walked to the end of the bed so I could study his leg.

  He didn’t respond, and I started to wipe away the trails of blood that had dripped down his leg.

  “What if… what if what you thought was so important, turned out costing you more than you expected to pay?” His voice almost startled me, and I waited, replaying his words in my head.

  “Few things in life turn out as we expect.” I met his gaze.

  “You can say that again…”

  “I think we can get caught up with the whole idea of dying for something. When the truth is, sometimes it’s much harder to live for something.” I turned back to his leg and continued cleaning.

  “Yeah, I wish I would have thought that through before I got into this mess… but you know what? I still think I would have made the same decision.” He let out a long breath. “I know I would have. I just might have been smarter about it.”

  “Hindsight and all,” I replied.

  “Yeah.”

  The wound was clean, but I needed to use some of the peroxide to make sure the wound was as sterile as possible. “This part might sting a bit.”

  “If I can deal with getting shot, I think I can handle some peroxide.” He nodded toward the bottle I held.

  “Ok…” I put a towel under his leg to protect the bed and poured a bit of the solution over the wound, watching as it foamed, doing exactly what was needed.

  Hopefully, it would be enough.

  The last time I saw Daphne, I had to literally talk myself into driving away from her house, remembering that I wasn’t what she needed, what she deserved. The girl practically screamed innocent. But even then, I knew what my future held. Of course, I didn’t think I’d actually get caught.

  Did anyone?

  After it had all gone down, I’d woken up in my car. The sleek Mercedes was going backward, throwing me off momentarily. It swayed slightly, and I studied my surroundings. My head throbbed, and I rose up from a flat-out position in the back seat. I was being towed away. As I tried to struggle, my wrists pulled against rope, preventing any movement. Swearing, I tugged at the bindings, trying to mentally keep it together. Thankfully, some amateur hadn’t tied my hands tight enough, and I was able to get free.