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“For how long?” she asks so softly I don’t think she even spoke until I look into her eyes and see the uncertainty and doubt. “Brett said you’d only want me for my virginity and then you’d throw me to your men.” She looks down, and I lift her chin up so she’s looking me in the eyes when I tell her this.
“You are mine forever, if you’ll have me. I want you to be my queen. To carry my heirs and to stand with me every day to rule this family.” The green of her eyes grows so bright it’s the color of fresh cut grass back East and not here in the desert.
“I want you,” she says, and my heart settles.
“Let me take care of you.”
I lift her from the tub and carry her to the shower, where I wash her body again and her hair. I use my soap and shampoo on her. I’ll have to get some of hers. I know she likes strawberries, but I’m hoping if she smells like me, it will help settle me. When I’m finished, she shivers slightly, and I dry her off. I slip one of my T-shirts over her head and nothing else. I want her surrounded by me. I lead her into the bedroom, and she lies in the bed. I can see how exhausted and sick she is.
I let the doctor in and walk to the closet, where I dress quickly and come back out. He has her arm over the side of the bed and is inserting an IV in it. I carefully climb onto the other side of the bed and lie next to her. She turns her head into me and cringes until he gets it secured. He hangs the bag on a pole he has set up next to the bed. He palpates her body as he looks her over again.
“I’m giving you a broad-spectrum antibiotic to cover whatever you could be fighting. Do you know when you last ate or drank?” She shakes her head and won’t talk to him. She is cowered into my side, and I worry she might have gone through more than what she has said so far. “I suspect you have a couple of broken ribs.” He pauses, giving her the chance to give us some insight.
“He beat me. I think that was a few days ago.” She looks up at me and then hides again. He beat her because of me. I was putting the pressure on him, and he must have figured something was going on between us.
“You’ll need to rest for days. I suggest you start with some clear soups and then work up to full meals. Your stomach might rebel at first.” He stops and looks over at me. “Pakhan, contact me if you have any concerns or if she takes a turn.” He tips his head and moves out of the condo.
“Where are we?” she softly asks, and I look down into her green eyes. “Why did he call you Pakhan?”
“We are in my condo over the restaurant and cardroom I own. I want you close when the game comes and when I’m at work. Pakhan means boss or father. My father is the Pakhan, but I’m the boss here.”
“Okay.” She doesn’t say more, and I look down to see her long lashes resting against her cheeks. She’s out cold.
“Boss.” Mikhail steps into the room. “She insisted.” He’s pushed to the side and in walks Babushka. She takes in Sparrow and her eyes grow big.
“I suspected, but what happened to her?”
“A man who will die hurt her,” is all I say. I slide from the bed after I make sure Sparrow is tucked in, then I direct everyone out of the room so she can sleep.
“I have soup for her. I can stay here in the spare room and take care of her when you are at work,” Babushka offers, and I nod my head as I rub my beard.
“That’s a good idea. I want Boris and Sasha brought here. They will protect her to the death.” Mikhail turns and walks out to collect them.
“So are you going to tell me?” Babushka is in the kitchen area warming the soup and pulling other things from the grocery bags on the counters. I slide onto the bar stool and watch her, recollecting the many times she did this when one of us was sick. She would make the brothy chicken soup, a crusty bread, and ginger tea. She has other home remedies she would pull out too with garlic and stuff, but I notice she doesn’t have any of those.
“I saw her and knew. Just like Gray with Erika, but I saw her back in January before she was legal. She turned eighteen a week ago. I was waiting until she was legal. I had men watching her. But her suka brother took her out the back and hid her away after he used her as collateral for his ante in the game next week.”
“Why is he a suka? He’s a man.” The ladle in her hand waves around.
“He’s no man, he’s a bitch,” I say. “He’s a coward and weak. He abused her and used her to get money. Not just this time but every time he gambles, he takes money from her. She is the reason they had a roof over their head.”
“Lenivyy sukin syn,” she spits out, calling him a lazy son of a bitch. I can’t help the chuckle that bursts from my chest.
“Even you call him a suka.” I laugh as tears roll down my face. Leave it to Babushka to tell it like it is.
A scream rips through the condo, and I’m on my feet running for my room.
CHAPTER FIVE
SPARROW
“Why is Morosov putting out feelers for you? Why is he searching for you?” Brett has me by my ratty hair and throws me into the wall. I fall to my knees, and he kicks me in the ribs. “Answer me, slut? Why?”
I want to lie, but I don’t want to be beaten anymore. “He’s the one who gave me the phone and earbuds,” I confess and hope he’ll stop. But he doesn’t. The truth infuriates him more, and he beats me harder.
When he finally moves toward the door, I try to crawl after him.
“Brett, please. I’m thirsty,” I beg.
