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Konstantin actually takes a step back, eyebrows flying up his forehead. I curse myself internally. “She’s fragile,” I add with a grimace. “I don’t want to risk moving her unnecessarily.”
The lie comes easily, but Konstantin’s expression turns suspicious regardless. “My car is over there. We have a minute before the cops get here. Maybe less.”
“Who hit us?” I demand. “How the hell did he even get close enough to crash into us?”
“There was about a two-second window while the lead cars changed as we crossed the intersection. He ran a red light and everything. It was timed perfectly.”
I look up and down the road. “So it’s definitely Petyr.”
Konstantin nods. “Without a fucking doubt.”
My men are scrambling like ants to figure out who will follow me and Paige, who will stay, who will go on back to the office. I’d usually be in the thick of things, barking orders, but Paige is limp in my arms, so I don’t really give a damn about who goes where. My men will figure it out.
I have more important things to tend to.
A crowd of gawkers has already gathered. I ignore the Good Samaritans offering help and get into the backseat of Konstantin’s jeep. Paige’s head is resting against my chest, warm and heavy and fragrant. Her eyes are closed now, but I can feel her pulse strong and steady against my arm. The space between breaths makes my heart seize up every time.
“I’m surprised you brought the girl to the meeting.” Konstantin drives over a curb to get around the line of cars in front of him. I hold tight to Paige so she doesn’t jostle more than necessary.
He doesn’t know it, but he’s pressing salt into the wound. Why the fuckdidI include her in this? I could just as easily have left her at Orion. But I wanted her to know exactly what she was involved in now.
A small part of me wanted her to know who I really am, too.
I stop just short of admitting to myself that maybe I grew tired of avoiding her. It’s been a week of never making eye contact, of leaving notes on her desk so she wouldn’t need to ask me what to do and keeping my door closed so I wouldn’t hear her answer the phone.
It’s been a week of torture.
But holding her limp body in my arms is worse.
14
MISHA
We arrive at Saint Mary’s in record time. I carry Paige into the hospital and set her onto the nearest gurney.
“She gets a private room,” I snap at an approaching nurse.
“You can’t just waltz in here and do what you like!” she retorts. “You don’t own the place!”
I get close enough for her to see the fury in my eyes. “You don’t know how wrong you are.”
The woman searches my face for a moment, but she evidently finds what she’s looking for, because she swallows and seems to wilt at once. Then she nods, wide-eyed and overwhelmed.
“I’ll get her to a room right away, sir.”
I follow two steps behind as she rolls Paige down the hall.
I can feel Konstantin’s eyes burrowing into the back of my head, but I ignore him. I don’t need to explain myself to him or anyone else.
I’m not sure I could if I tried.
The nurse takes Paige up to the fourth floor, but a brawny male nurse stops me at the doors to the emergency ward.
“We’ll get back to you with an update as soon as possible, sir,” he tells me. “Please wait here.”
I want to argue—actually, I want to rip this motherfucker limb from limb for daring to tell me where I can and can’t go—but I don’t want to do anything to slow down Paige’s care.
I’ll fight to see her later. For now, I nod and watch her disappear through the double doors.
