I had fun sharing that with him. Letting him know his careful plan was going to be derailed all along. It was far preferable to the fury that appeared every time Nico told me Carina was his to claim. That she was his rightful property. That Salvatore was in no position to renege on their arrangement.
“He’d been monitoring Isabella since Madrid, thinking you’d reach out to her.” I hesitate before adding, “Her parents are dead.”
Carina’s exhale is tremulous. “So is she.”
“I know. I’m so sorry.”
She nods once in acknowledgment, releasing a shaky exhale. “It’s not your fault. If you hadn’t found me, I’d be ... Th-thank you. For saving me—again.”
“You never ever have to thank me for that.”
Her eyes fill with tears. “I was careless. I didn’t bring a gun, and I didn’t?—”
“You should have been safe here.”
“But I wasn’t. If you hadn’t taught me to shoot and to fight, I wouldn’t have—I would have been …”
I sweep my thumb across the edge of the bandage on her arm. “You learned those skills yourself, Carina. No one can take them away from you, no matter the situation.”
“Thank you,” she whispers again. “I’m glad you jumped into that pool.”
I smile at her reference to our first meeting, catching her wince when she adjusts position. “Is your arm bothering you?”
I got a full report of her injury from the doctor downstairs—a gunshot graze that required no stitches—but I’d rather hear it from her.
“I’m fine. It’s a bad scrape, basically. No stitches necessary.” She hesitates. “Nico never touched me. I wasn’t—I was lucky in some ways. I would have fought, but I—” Her voice breaks. “I might not have been able to …”
I adjust so more of my weight is on my left arm, leaving my right hand free to cup her cheek. Nico would have bragged, while he was still capable of talking, if he’d hurt her in that way. But it’s still a relief to hear firsthand it never happened.
“All you can do is fight, Carina. And you are the strongest soldier I’ve ever trained.”
Her smile is small but steady. “How did you find me?”
“Isabella was a diabetic.”
A spasm of grief crosses Carina’s face, probably in response to the past tense. “I know.”
“I had Misha track her glucose monitor. It transmitted data to Chicago General. He was able to trace the location it was last sharing from.”
“You brought a team here? Once you knew where I was?”
I shake my head. “I didn’t know they were coming. Misha had told Maksim what happened.”
“Have you talked to your father?”
“No.”
That’s an awkward conversation I’ll put off for as long as possible. I’ll need to have one with Aleksandr, too, which will be uncomfortable for both of us. I’ve risked my life for his countless times. This is the first time he’s risked his for me, yet it feels like the balance is uneven in his favor. Probably because this was personal, not business.
“Some honeymoon, huh?” she says, trailing her fingers down my arm.
I huff a laugh. “Yes.”
“When did you lose track of the number?”
“I stopped counting at thirty. I didn’t see the point in keeping track.”
“I killed two of Nico’s men. I didn’t hesitate. I didn’t freak out, like in Dublin. If I’m abducted again?—”
