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I pulled her up and her head rested in the crook of my neck. Her shoulders shook and hot tears wet my shirt. She looked spent, utterly broken.
“You came for me,” she whispered, her gravelly tone almost a whisper.
I would always come for her. I ignored the alarm bells going off in my head after that unwanted truth hit me.
Katya’s eyelids fluttered, and then she went limp.
My eyes narrowed as I spotted the red streaks around her throat. I was going to tear that bald fucker limb from limb. Then I was going to find his boss. After I finished with him, parents in all of Bulgaria would use Kolev’s fate as an example to threaten their children with.
If you don't behave, you will end up like Kolev.
***
KATYA
“What’s the damage, doc?”
The deep baritone voice drifted into my sleep. It was like silk that wrapped around my skin, making me take notice.
I heard a sigh, then an unfamiliar voice. “She’s got two fractured ribs, a busted lip, and a concussion.”
Poor woman. Someone had apparently done a job on her. Even in my dreamworld I was conscious enough that I remembered what that meant. Sheer pain, perhaps even agony, depending on the wounds. It probably felt like that time I had my second surgery after another round of chemo. I knew the drill.
“Will there be permanent damage?” The strong baritone sounded worried, making me fear for the woman.
“It’s too soon to tell, but I don’t think so. Her vitals are fine, especially considering what she went through.” The doctor cleared his throat. “Do you want me to take a look at…the other patient again?”
There was a reluctance in the doctor’s voice, making me think he didn’t particularly want to check up on the mystery person.
“He’s not a patient. He can rot in that basement. Just keep him alive, nothing more.”
“Are you sure? It would be an act of mercy to—”
“Do I look like a merciful man to you?” the silky, yet dangerous voice asked.
Shivers ran down my spine at the ice coating that masculine voice. There was something familiar about him, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
The doctor never gave an answer, or perhaps I wasn’t conscious enough to hear it. I was floating in an ocean free from pain and intended to stay there.
I drifted in and out of consciousness. More different voices appeared beside me. I could almost reach out to them, but my eyes remained shut. I couldn’t pry them open no matter how hard I tried.
“How’s our girl doing?”
A gravelly voice, which also sounded familiar. It sounded like…home. Why couldn’t I open my eyes?
“She’ll live.” The deep voice again. It sounded tired.
“Speaking of living, what about Kolev’s man? There isn’t much left of him. You still want to keep him locked up?”
Something hard hit a wall. “That fucker doesn’t get to leave the basement. I said I was going to cut off a piece of him for every day Katya lies in this bed. I always keep my promise.”
“Jesus. I get that you’re mad, but the guy looks like…Fuck, I don’t even know what to call it. Stephen fucking King wouldn’t know how to describe it.”
“Then don’t.” Frost had seeped into the baritone voice again. “I have plans for his boss, Kolev. Tell me, what do Bulgarians like to eat?”
“Banitsa,” the gravelly voice answered.
“And you know this how?”
