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"Oh my god, Mika," she gasps, "you are hurt."
"Just a scratch," I smirk… Then cough, and blood drips from the corner of my mouth.
Her gaze widens, "It’s not just a scratch. The bullet... It hit you; you are bleeding out." She presses her hand to where the blood pulses from the wound, trying to stem the flow, and pain shoots up my neck. It explodes behind my eyes, and I grunt as my legs seem to fold in on themselves. I try to straighten myself, waver on my feet, and Karma tries to support me. "Help," she screams as footsteps sound behind me, "help me."
Strong arms grip me, then lower me to the dirt. I glance up into Nikolai’s face.
"Sorry, I got here a little late." He grimaces. His face fades in and out of view.
"You were…not late," I force out the words. A coldness grips me and I shudder.
More footsteps sound, then suddenly, Christian is there. He takes one look at me and his features go solid. He pulls off his jacket, sinks to his knees, and hands it to Karma. "Use this to apply pressure," he growls.
Sirens sound in the distance, and I frown.
"Ambulance," JJ’s voice seems to come from far away, "I called an ambulance."
I grasp Karma’s hand in mine. "Don’t leave me," I whisper. "Don’t leave me, Karma."
"Don’t talk," she swallows, "save your energy."
Darkness pulls me under, but I fight it off.
"Promise me that you’ll be there when I wake up."
She moves her mouth but I can’t hear her.
"Andy," I murmur.
"You’re dying," she bursts out, "and you’re worried about my cat?"
"I am not dying," I insist, "and you love your cat, so of course, I am worried about him."
"Please, don’t exert yourself," she pleads. "Please, Mika, just focus on staying alive."
"I am not going anywhere," I smile. "Not as long as I have you by my side."
She glances away and a sick sensation twists my stomach.
"Karma, don’t do it," I plead with her, or at least, I think I try to do that. Then everything goes dark.
33
Karma
"You’ve put yourself under a lot of pressure, Mrs. Sovrano," the doctor murmurs. "You are lucky you didn’t come out of this in worse shape."
"I think you meant to say that to my husband, not me." I firm my lips, "He’s the one who was shot."
The doctor shoots me a knowing glance, "I am talking about you, ma’am, not your husband."
After Michael lost consciousness, holding onto my hand, the ambulance had arrived. True to his word, it had been an ambulance to a private hospital that JJ owns in London.
He had briefly regained consciousness as they were strapping him onto the stretcher and insisted that they check me out.
I had told the paramedics I was fine, but Michael had refused to cooperate with them until they had finally given in and one of them had begun to examine me.
I had kept insisting that I was fine, but the paramedic had said that my blood pressure and my heart rate were both elevated—which I already knew, of course, but had feigned surprise when he’d said that.
