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Lifting my arms in front of me, I study them curiously. Small bandages stick haphazardly all over my flesh. My wedding ring sits firmly on my finger.
"The glass didn't cut you that bad," she says, misunderstanding why I look relieved.
There are more bandages wrapped around my chest. I brush them, wincing when I graze the tender spot that the bullet entered. Someone has packed thick gauze beneath the wraps there. I'm naked except for a pair of loose tan joggers. "Whoever patched me up did a decent job."
"You’re welcome."
"Did anyone follow us?" I ask.
She shakes her head, stretching herself like a cat in the chair by the window. "Corpses don’t move very fast."
I grimace at the word corpse. "Kostya..."
"I know," she seethes. Mila stands from the chair, wandering closer to my bed. She's no longer in the white gear I last saw her in. She's dressed down to basic blue jeans and a loose teal shirt that's frayed around the sleeves. It's too big on her; it makes her look smaller. Younger. Too much like the screaming girl I saved all those years ago.
"It's not your fault, Arsen."
"What happened out there?" I can't keep the anger out of my tone as I demand answers.
She turns away, unable to look me in the eye as she talks. "After you were shot, we tried to move in and help. But cops started swarming around us. They did just enough for Yevgeniy to escape. I told everyone else to bail until we had a plan." Her shoulders rise upward, the crease of her jaw deepening. "Kostya refused. That bastard actually ignored orders, can you believe it? He ran into the fray to try and drag you out." Her words become more clipped. "He went down fighting."
Closing my eyes, I take several big breaths. Kostya had to know he wouldn't get out of there alive. Even so, he'd jumped in with both feet.
"He’ll be remembered." Shifting on the bed, I start to slide my legs over the edge. Pain radiates from my chest; I lock up, clutching at my bandages. Hot air exits my teeth in a quick burst.
"Don't try to get out of bed," she scolds me. "You’re not out of the woods just yet."
I chuckle grimly. "Ruslan has good aim."
Her brow scrunches upward, then down just as fast. "The boy?"
"Not important." I wave my hand dismissively. "Tell me more about the cops helping Yevgeniy."
Mila watches me warily, expecting that I'll make another attempt to get out of the bed. When I remain still she sits back in the chair beside me. "Seems they’ve struck a deal with him. They might as well be his personal army now."
Well, that certainly explains some things. Remembering the fake paramedics makes my skin crawl. I rub my arm where the needle pierced me. "And what’s in it for him?"
"Immunity." She spits the word out like it's poison.
The cops would put him on a throne before they put him in cuffs. "I need to speak with Josh. If we don't act quickly, the entire police force will be on Yevgeniy's payroll."
"You think he’ll talk to you? After this?” Mila laughs derisively. "He only tolerated you because of Galina."
I mash the blankets until my forearms cramp. "Do you know where she is?"
"No fucking idea. But we're looking." The aloofness in her dark eyes melts into pity. "She's alive, Arsen."
"I know that," I growl, furious at the suggestion of anything else. "Which is why I need to talk to Josh. Now."
"Just how do you plan to convince him to help you?"
Rubbing my bandages, I laugh ruefully. That small movement causes my ribs to ache, but I keep laughing in spite of the pain.
"I’ll make him an offer he can’t refuse"
“And how do you plan to do that?”
"With your help, of course.”
