"And you know that personally?" she questioned, her eyes shifting from him to me. "Are you gay too?" she asked me bluntly, as Vitya and Michael burst out laughing.
My face reddened. "Trust me,?????????,I do not desire men. Only women.”
Her brow lifted. "Women, huh? Have a lot of those?"
Was that jealousy I heard in her voice?
Vitya whistled, and then murmured, "Right in the trap." Then he said loudly, "Well, he isn't a monk.”
"Ah, my heart is shattered," she said, holding her hand to her chest. "I hoped for a virgin." Now she laughed with them as I sat there grimly.
For fuck's sake! They acted like a bunch of kids discussing the latest rumors. And why would she even think about other women, when I'd told her she was mine right before I gave her my cross? Then again, I never really spent time with women unless I was fucking them, so no wonder I didn't understand shit.
"Just so you know, there aren't any women," I said gruffly, as my eyes held hers. Something flashed through them, but before I could dwell on it, the doctor walked in holding a tablet in his hand. He wore navy-blue scrubs, had round brown glasses and mussed dirty-blond hair, along with darker skin. He looked around my age.
"Hey, Mr. Konstantinov, it's good to finally have you back."
Then he shook hands with Rosa with a smile. "And you must be the lady who demanded to see me."
"Yes, I want you to check him before he runs away from here."
He chuckled. "That so, huh? Eager to leave the hospital?"
"Yes." My reply was met with another chuckle.
"Yeah, I predicted something similar. Unless you want to have plastic surgery for the burns to limit the scarring, I don't really have any reason to keep you here." He read something and then typed on the tablet. "You'll have to change your bandages daily though, and apply a special ointment. In a week, check with a doctor, but you can do it with anyone.”
"Doc, have you seen my body?"
He blinked in confusion. “Yes."
"Do you really think I'm afraid of some scars on my hands? I don't give a shit. I'm leaving now." I had to check on Damian and create a plan. My apartment seemed much more comfortable for that than this little excuse for a room, and I wouldn't have to deal with anyone's shit.
"But he suffered from smoke inhalation and his hand was hurt," Rosa complained.
The doctor nodded. "I'll prescribe painkillers for the first few days, and his blood test came back clear for any effects from the smoke he breathed. So considering—”
Rosa interrupted him again. He sighed irritably, and my eyes narrowed. My woman could say whatever the fuck she pleased, so he better not upset her with his harsh comments or voice.
"Dr."—she glanced at his nametag—"Bailey. Are you absolutely sure he's fine? You kept Damian, and he only has a few cuts and a broken leg."
Bailey frowned.
"Damian?" he muttered. "Oh, Mr. Scott. Yes, I did, because he has a concussion, and we want to keep a close eye on the whole family. That's the only reason they are staying one more day."
One more? Wait a fucking minute.
"What do you mean? How many days have I been in the hospital?" I covered up the relief I felt over Damian's condition. We both got lucky, considering the situation. If there was a slight chance of him wanting to see me, I’d run to his room immediately.
We were twins; however, if he had done with my woman and my baby what I did with his, forgiveness wouldn't have crossed my mind for a long time.
"Just one, you slept all the way through," Vitya replied, and then stood up, pulling Michael along with him. "We'll get all the papers ready, call for the car, and they'll bring your clothes," he said with satisfaction, clearly anticipating shoving them down Connor's throat. "Doc, could you also give us a list of things he needs to take?"
The doctor nodded. With no further questions from Rosa—who got quiet and studied the green plant at the other end of the room with fascination—he left the room with a quick goodbye as his pager beeped.
The silence between us unsettled me, so I cleared my throat. Her attention snapped back to me, and once again, I couldn't help but wish to drown in her expressive eyes. "Thanks for caring so much about my health." I cringed inwardly. Those weren't the best words to start a conversation.Blyat, I didn't have any experience in this, so no wonder. She shrugged and sat down on the foot of my bed.
"It's all right." Her hands still held the cross. She placed it on my stomach gently, but not before I noticed how she trailed her fingers over it. "You gave it to me yesterday. You should have it back. I hope you'll get better." She stood up quickly and made a move to leave, but I caught her hand right in time. I couldn't keep the groan of pain from spilling out as my raw skin brushed over the bandage when I squeezed my hand. Fuck, it did hurt like a fucking bitch after all.
