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I look up at him, letting him know with my look that I’m not amused, but he’s no longer wary of me and my brothers, so all I get is a half-smile and a soft laugh. Giving Alina another kiss on the forehead, I walk to the sink and start to clean. The door opens when I’m toweling off and Dominic and Lev walk in.
“How is she?” Lev stands next to Alina’s sleeping form. His eyes roam over her, stopping on her bandaged wrist. “Fuck,” he whispers, the pain making his voice softer than usual.
I walk back over to her, taking her uninjured hand again before kissing it and sitting on the edge of the bed so I can be close to her.
“She’s going to be fine,” Dr. Bianchi says, answering for me.
“Everyone’s been texting me nonstop, wanting to know how she is.” Lev rests his hand on her head for just a second, brushing back a strand of hair. “What happened?”
I sigh as guilt hits me hard, knowing this is my fault. “She found the sketchpad.”
“Goddammit,” he mutters.
“I know. I hid it, but I should’ve burnt the damn thing. She found it while I was in the shower. She was embarrassed and hurt and knowing that everyone else saw it was too damn much for her. She locked herself in the bathroom and tried to cut her tattoo off.”
“What?” His eyes lock on her bandaged wrist. “She wasn’t trying to kill herself?”
“No. She wants to be free of him, Lev, but she can’t get him out of her head, and the tattoo was a constant reminder that she decided she couldn’t face any longer.” I let out another heavy sigh. “I should’vetaken her to a tattoo artist. He could’ve covered it, or we could’ve had it removed. This is all my fault.”
My brothers know how much I hate to be touched, so they’re always careful to avoid it, but Lev grips my shoulder, giving me no choice but to look at him.
“It’s not your fault. There’s no way in hell you could’ve known she’d do something like this to herself.”
“It’s my responsibility to know,” I tell him. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but if this were Jolene, you’d be thinking the same damn thing I am.”
He knows I’m right, so he just grimaces and pulls his hand back. Dominic and Dr. Bianchi are whispering quietly in Italian, having no clue what we’ve been saying since we’ve been speaking Russian, but when the room grows quiet, Dominic raises a brow at me.
“Everything okay?”
Lev sends a quick text to the others while I answer him.
“Yeah, thanks, Dominic.” I scrub a hand over the back of my neck, unsure of what to say. I don’t like being in debt to any man, but his doctor has helped Alina twice now, and her life means way more to me than my pride.
“I told you we’re even,” he says, knowing exactly what I’m thinking. “You helped me find my sister’s killer. We’re even, Matvey, no matter how many times my doctor stitches up someone you care about.”
I nod, knowing I’d feel the same way if the situation were reversed but hating it all the same. “Can I take her home?” When the doctor hesitates, I say, “I’ll watch over her. She won’t be alone for a second, and I’ll make sure the wound stays clean.”
“Let me know immediately if you see any signs of infection—fever, swelling or pus or if it starts bleeding again.”
“I know, Doc, don’t worry.” I give a soft laugh. “I’m pretty familiar with stitches.”
“He is,” Lev agrees. “He’s stitched me up plenty of times.”
Dr. Bianchi relents and gives me the okay to take Alina home, butonly after I promise to send him a photo in a day or two so he can see how it’s healing.
Before I pick her up, I hold out my hand to shake his. “Thanks for taking care of her, Doc.”
“I’m happy to help Alina anytime she needs it.”
Nodding my thanks once more, I reach down and carefully pick her up while Lev grabs the painkillers for me. She’s limp in my arms, but I can feel the heat of her breath against my neck, letting me know she’s okay. We follow Dominic back through his house, and when he opens the front door for us, Lev helps me tuck the blanket back around Alina before we step out into the cold.
“You want a shirt or a jacket?” Dominic asks me, but I just shake my head, not even feeling the brisk temperature or the snow that’s still falling.
“I’m fine,” I tell him.
“Fucking Russians,” he mutters, making Lev and I smile as he shuts the door on us.
Getting in the backseat, I keep Alina in my lap during the drive. Her small body molds to mine as her scent fills my nose. Every breath calms me a little more than the last, and when Lev pulls into the parking garage, I have a plan in place and I’m starting to feel somewhat sane again.
