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I marvel at the architecture inside, the vibrant hues of red, gold, and light blue that mix traditional Mexican artwork with modern design.
Directly ahead, floor-to-ceiling glass doors provide an unobstructed view of the infinity pool that seems to merge with the horizon. Palm trees sway in the breeze, their leaves creating intricate patterns of light and shadow on the water.
“I’m glad you like it,” Jasha says from behind me, his voice clear and chipper despite the weight he’s carrying. “Nikolai never appreciates my taste in art.”
“It’s just a house,” Nikolai says, sounding totally unimpressed.
I turn around and wave my finger at him. “You see, that’s how we ended up in that shitty hotel when we first came to Mexico. You must see a difference between that place and this one.”
Jasha shakes his head at Nikolai. “No class.”
I stifle a laugh, mostly because Nikolai doesn’t seem happy about being ganged up on, but also because Eddy is in such bad condition that it hurts my heart to be laughing in front of him. He must have suffered greatly, but we won’t know how exactly until he’s feeling well enough to talk about it.
Until then, I try to keep a cautiously optimistic energy flowing through the house. It’s a beautiful place, but I feel like I won’t be able to fully relax until we’re back in the United States.
We get settled in quickly, and the doctor arrives for Eddy soon after. He’s a calm and elderly man with hands that are cool to the touch. Something about him sets me at ease. Maybe it’s his eyes. They’re quite lively for someone his age, betraying his slow, calculated movements.
“Dr. Waters is the best private doctor you’ll find. Period,” Nikolai assures me.
Dr. Waters just smiles in response and goes into the bedroom to see Eddy.
He takes Eddy’s blood and runs an analysis on it as he goes through a series of other tests. After that, he hooks Eddy up to an IV and leaves him in the bedroom to print the test results.
I’m standing in the kitchen with Jasha and Nikolai when he returns with a stack of papers in his steady hands.
“Good news,” he says, holding the stack out to me. “Edward – or Eddy, as you call him – is fine, aside from some issues caused by malnutrition, such as decreased cognitive function and general muscular fatigue. Those should go away within a week with a return to a regular diet.”
I let out a deep sigh, one that I’ve been holding in my chest since I learned that Eddy was being held for ransom. “Thank you,” I say, accepting the papers from him.
He smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling with genuine happiness. “I’m happy to help. I have put Eddy on antibiotics, which will help to prevent infections for his current injuries. He needs to stay clean, though, and I would like him to change bandages regularly. Full instructions for his care are on page five,” he says, tapping the stack of papers with his finger lightly.
Nikolai sees Dr. Waters out the door, thanking him several times for treating Eddy on short notice. They seem to have a good relationship, because I witness Dr. Waters refuse payment for the visit and thank him for the flight out to Mexico.
“Always wanted to see this side of the border,” he says as he leaves.
The door closes behind Dr. Waters, and Nikolai turns back to face me. His eyes meet mine, a complicated mix of relief and unreadable emotions. For a moment, I forget to breathe.
“Thank you for helping him,” I say softly, breaking the silence.
Nikolai steps closer, his eyes never leaving mine. “It’s what had to be done,” he replies, his voice low, almost a whisper. “I protect what’s important to me, and anyone you care about is someone I care about too.”
My heart skips a beat. I suddenly realize how close we are standing, how intimate this feels, and how important his words are. Now that Eddy’s back, I can focus on what I’m feeling for Nikolai without the guilt of distraction looming over me.
“Thank you again,” I say, allowing myself to get lost in the beautiful gaze of a man who knows how to handle business, no matter how chaotic.
Nikolai’s eyes stay locked to mine for a moment before breaking away and looking past me with a frown. I turn to see Jasha coming down the hallway with a bowl of grapes in his hand.
“Maybe take that to the bedroom,” Jasha says, popping a grape into his mouth. “How about some food? I bet we’re all starving.”
I laugh, grateful for Jasha’s knack for breaking the tension, even if it annoys Nikolai. “I could eat.”
28
Nikolai
“We have a little problem with the tracking device, since Diego found it and most likely destroyed it. That means we don’t have a reliable way of following them back to their hideout, which also means that we can’t tell Gabriel where to send his army tomorrow,” I explain.
Jasha, who is reclined on the living room couch beside Dream, raises his hand.
