I shove his hand away. “Touch me again and I'll break your fingers.”
“Connor—”
“Shut up.” My jaw clenches so hard my teeth might crack. “Do you understand, shit can go wrong. Complications. Infections. People even die from—”
“Ryan's not dying.” Zach doesn't look up from his phone.
Like he fucking knows.
I swallow hard, fingers digging into my thighs. Didn’t expect him to show up, but he’s here. Merci too. I apologized to both of them. Zach just shook his head andsaid it was over, that families fight. Then he told me I'd better have learned my lesson.
I did.
Merci, on the other hand, still appears to be holding a grudge. But I can't tell if it’s more to push my buttons, or if the little terror is actually still mad, even though I let him keep all that goddamn shampoo he ordered.
My phone buzzes and I take it out of my pocket.
Viktor: Monster Cheeks okay?
Him and these fucking nicknames.
Me: Still in surgery. Find anything?
Alexei: Three more security dead out back. Same wounds like your mother’s.
Fuck.
My fingers tighten around my phone. Ryan and I were supposed to be safe with my parents gone. We were supposed to be free.
Now someone else is a threat. Someone unknown.
Viktor: My mom is pissed. Keeps yelling at me every five minutes.
Viktor: Forget the fact I almost could’ve been one of these bodies. No. Apparently, my situational awareness is sloppy.
Viktor: She hit me. Twice.
Alexei: Durak. Not time to complain.
Alexei’s right. I can’t deal with Viktor’s bullshit right now.
I tuck my phone back into my pocket, then rest my head in my palms, fingers digging into my skull. A professional hit like that requires serious money and connections. I’m fucking thankful the Novotnys are looking into it. It's their world after all.
Jackson taps my shoulder. “Doctor’s coming.”
I shoot to my feet as Dr. Francois makes her way over.
She stops in front of me and gives a small smile. “Your husband came through surgery beautifully. The bulletlodged in his deltoid, but no major blood vessels were hit. And there was no bone damage. He’s lucky.”
Lucky?
My husband threw himself in front of a bullet meant for me. And this bitch is calling it lucky.
Jackson places a hand on my shoulder. “Breathe.” He looks at the doctor. “When can Connor see him?”
“He should be awake within the hour. We'll get you as soon as he's ready for visitors. He's going to be fine, Mr. Walsh.” She gives a curt nod, then heads to the nurses' station.
I take a deep breath, dropping back into the chair.
