Page 95 of The Promise

Three nurses waited in the large room where Roman was taken despite his protests. This was nothing vodka, sleep, and some painkillers wouldn’t fix. He could clean out his wounds in a hot shower and dose them with alcohol. The screaming ring in his ears had yet to stop, and the pain in his head was at an all-time high.

Roman in pain was Roman angry.

Simple as that.

He barely contained his snappiness and frustration as the doctor fired off commands to two of the nurses before turning his questions on Roman. There wasn’t much to say.

The man wanted to know what hurt?

Shit, look at him.

It all hurt.

Demyan, Marky, and the one bull that had pulled Roman from the wreckage scattered around the room, keeping a close eye on the doctor’s proceedings. The attack had changed everything, just like that, and now nobody could be trusted. The bratva was on high alert which meant the city would feel the impact, too.

More attention.

Great.

There was too much silence in the room. The only sound was made by the doctor while he carried out his examination once he figured out Roman really wasn’t in the mood to carry any kind of decent conversation. The nurses tended to his wounds and cuts. He had to endure more stitches, and creams. Bandages, too. A lot of hands touching him. He hated the feeling of being poked and prodded, even if it was to his benefit.

Seeing his son’s growing irritation, Demyan uttered from the other side of the room, “Behave.”

Christ.

It felt like he was ten again when he’d popped his shoulder out of socket after a fall from his dirt bike and wouldn’t stop fidgeting long enough for the doctor to get a good grip. His father’s low bark of that order was just what was needed to still Roman long enough for the doctor to do the deed.

Painfully, of course.

That was the thing.

Roman really liked to avoid pain. Just because he could handle it, didn’t mean he could stand it. Not always.

After the doctor was done with his examination, he was given a list of instructions on how to handle the concussion. Roman nodded his head along with whatever the man said, resisting his nature to be an asshole, instead trying his best to speed up the process.

“And most importantly, you need to rest,” the doctor said to him sternly, and then looked over his shoulder at Demyan .

Who, surprise, surprise, nodded in agreement.

As if that bullshit was going to happen. Things needed to be done now. That much was clear. Karine had to be protected first. They were already running out of time if the two things Dima knew for certain was Roman’s location, and the fact he had Karine.

Roman could rest when Dima was eliminated.

The doctor and nurses shuffled out of the room eventually, prompting Roman to stand from the wheelchair immediately. At least he was able to do that now, and he’d all but refused to get into the bed.

“You heard the doctor, son, you need to rest,” Demyan said, stepping forward.

Roman reached for the jacket his father held out to him. The one thing that had managed to make it out of the wreckage of his car other than him.

“I’m sure we can find somewhere for you to rest for the night if—”

Roman had been too focused on struggling through the pain of shrugging on his jacket, but those words from his father stopped him up. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Rome—”

The affectionate nickname only pissed Roman off more, and he shook his head. “No. Dima is here. For Karine. We need to get her out of the lodge—hell, out of Vermont. I don’t trust her being this far away from us.”

“From you, you mean.”