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“Who?”
I throw a cautious glance toward the thin fabric curtain separating my bed from the other patients here. There’s no telling who’s listening in, so I switch to Russian. “I didn’t get a name, but he had a message for me. He said, ‘Konstantin says hello.’”
“Konstantin?” Pyotr echoes, dismayed. “No. Impossible.”
“That’s what I thought, then the fucker stabbed me.”
“Did he say anything else?”
“Yes, something about ‘The Trinity are coming for you.’”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
I hear shuffling in the background. Pyotr switches back to English. “Which hospital are you at?”
“Saint Augustus. The one on Third, I think.”
“That woman. Is she there?”
“Yes, in the waiting room, but—”
“I’m coming to get you. Hang tight.”
Never one to waste time, Pyotr hangs up without another word. With a heavy sigh, I tuck my real phone into the inner pocket of my jacket, hiding it.
This is quickly spiraling into a chaotic mess. I already have enough on my plate dealing with the FBI, and now I have Konstantin to worry about? This has to be some kind of mistake. The man’s deep down in the Pit, the Antonov Bratva’s version of a high-security prison. After my brothers deposed him, we thought it was the last we’d ever hear from the guy.
The Trinity are coming for you.
I fixate on the words like the center of a bullseye. Trinity. Three. Does this mean Konstantin isn’t working alone? Can I even take my attacker’s word seriously? The timing of all this feels too convenient. There has to be more going on than meets the eye, I just don’t know what.
“Luka?”
Dani’s soft voice cuts through the thoughts rattling around inside my skull. I look up to find her standing on the other side of the curtain, peeking in through a small crack. I don’t know how long she was standing there. I’m usually far more alert, but it’s safe to say the medication I’m on has dulled my senses. I can only hope she just arrived and wasn’t listening in on my conversation with my brother, though it wouldn’t matter unless she speaks Russian.
“How are you feeling?” she asks me, slowly taking her place at my bedside. There’s a wobble to her words, genuine concern coming through in her voice.
“I’m alright,” I mumble. A low laugh escapes me. “Not much of a second date, either.”
Dani huffs, a teary warmth in her eyes. “We’re kind of bad at this, huh?”
“A little bit.” I try to sit up. Every muscle inmy body cramps with effort. “Are you alright? He didn’t get you, did he?”
She shakes her head, her raven curls slipping over her shoulders. “Why did you do it?” she whispers.
“Do what?”
“Protect me like that.” Dani casts her eyes down, wringing her fingers together. “You didn’t have to.”
“Of course I did,” I answer without thinking. “Better me than you.”
Her eyes meet mine, brimming with something almost… guilty. She chews on the inside of her cheek, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “The police want to speak to you,” she says. “They want to try and identify the attacker—”
“Hey!” a nurse snaps loudly, interrupting the otherwise silent ER. There’s some kind of commotion. I can hear the squeak of shoes against the tile floors, the knocking over of a utility tray. “Hey, mister? You can’t be in here—”
Bang! Bang!
