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I force myself to remain slack against him. Through the small slit in my eyes, I catch a glimpse of him finally tucking away his gun before he picks me up and carries me in his arms.
Like when I was a baby and I thought it was a good idea to take his place and sleep beside Mom. He always, without exception, carried me back to my room. I still snuck to their bedroom first thing in the morning and when they locked the door? I would bang on it until they opened it.
Like all those times, Papa’s arms feel safe. Overly protective, yes, but still safe.
“My son will wake up, and when he does, I’ll keep him the hell away from your daughter and your destructive family. I suggest you do the same.”
“Annika is leaving UK soil effective immediately and I will make sure your son is erased from her life. Do not try to legally pursue her, for it won’t have any result.”
“If Creighton chooses to do so, nothing will stop me. Not even you.”
“Let’s hope we never meet again, Mr. King.”
“I suggest you pray for it, Mr. Volkov.”
And then Papa is carrying me out of the hospital, his steps steady, his hold firm, as if I’m weightless.
I feel him putting me in the backseat of the car and sliding in beside me.
“Where to, Boss?” Kolya’s voice comes from the driver's seat as he reverses out of the parking lot.
“The airport,” Papa says calmly before he whispers, “We’re out of the hospital. You can wake up, Anoushka.”
I bite my lower lip as I slowly open my eyes and stare at Papa sheepishly. “You knew?”
“You’re good, but not that good. Besides, you used to pretend to be asleep whenever you wanted to spend the night in our bedroom.”
“It’s different this time.”
“You didn’t want me to hurt him. I know.”
“And I don’t want him to hurtyou, Papa.”
“He won’t be able to.” A small smile grazes his lips as he ruffles my hair. “Didn’t know you were so grown up that you could single-handedly protect your brother and even me.”
“I’m a Volkov, too.”
“Yes, you are. That means, next time someone threatens you, you beat them the fuck up.”
I shake my head. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I were to hurt the man Creighton considers a father and a role model.”
“That still doesn’t excuse the way he talked to you.”
“Listen, Papa…”
“No, you listen to me. I know you like that boy, and you’re in pain because you had to shoot him. But that’s the keyword, Anoushka. Youhadto shoot him. By threatening Jeremy’s life, he gave you no choice but to pull the trigger. He knows how much your brother means to you, he knows you won’t hesitate to protect him, but he still stabbed him anyway. He’s the one who forced your hand, he’s the one who didn’t consider your feelings or the circumstances when he made that choice. So don’t beat yourself up for choosing your family or for making a decision you were forced to make. If he loved you, if he cared about you instead of vengeance and a past vendetta, he wouldn’t have put you in that position.”
A tear slides down my cheek, then more follow.
I see the reasoning behind Papa’s words, I do, but the only scene in my head is that of red.
Deep red.
A lot of red.
The only scene that plays in the back of my head is that of a pale Creighton hooked to machines, unable to open his eyes.
A ghost of his former self.
