“What’s wrong?” I answer, sliding out of bed without jostling Janella, sheets pooled at her waist.
I can’t think about what it means that I fell asleep beside her tonight.
“It’s Nadya.” Trifon sounds exhausted and furious. I’ve been the reason for that voice before. I know what it means—that he’s struggling not to monumentally lose his shit. “She slipped security and got caught in crossfire tonight. At an underground racing thing.”
My heart lurches to a standstill in my chest. “Fuck.How bad?”
“A bullet grazed her shoulder. Another got her thigh. Yulia is patching her up right now, but I can’t look at her right now, Iosif. Reason with her. You two speak the same language, and I, apparently, can’t fucking get through to her.”
Breath punches out of my lungs.She’s okay, she’s okay, she’s okay.
“I’ll try,” I scoff, “to not take offense to that.”
“Whatever. I need her somewhere safe for a few days.”
“Bring her here. I’ll have the guest room ready,” I offer, though I’m sure it’s why my brother called. He’s in a bitch of a mood, but he isn’t wrong. Nadya and I do speak the samelanguage. A part of me thinks the underground racing thing sounds like a fucking blast. I don’t say that to Trifon tonight.
Trifon sighs heavily, and it isn’t one of relief. “You’ve got Janella.”
“Yeah, thanks for the reminder,” I chuckle. “Nadya loves her. The company will keep her from going stir-crazy within the first six hours.”
“Can anyone stop Nadya from that?”
“We’re a good team,” I say, and find the words true.
I look back at the woman in the bed behind me. Her hair still holds the ringlets from her fancy updo earlier. Her mouth is puckered into a pout in her sleep. I fight the urge to kiss her awake. I wore her out enough tonight.
With a quick thanks, the line goes dead.
I dress swiftly, but it isn’t enough to avoid my wife from stirring. She blinks up at me sleepily, turning to her side. It exposes her bare front to me, and my fingers twitch to touch her.
“Iosif?” she mumbles, her voice scratchy from sleep. She can barely keep her eyes open. “Is everything okay?”
I promised her. I promised that we wouldn’t hide things from each other anymore.
Sinking to the edge of her bed, I drag the sheets up her body, covering her. “My daredevil sister got shot at tonight. She’s okay,” I tack on when she snaps upright, alarm widening her eyes. “I told Trifon to send Nadya here to lay low for a few days. You good with that?”
“Of course,” she says, waving me off, as if asking is ridiculous. “We’ll be the premium recovery facility.”
She says it with such adamance, a smile fights its way to the surface. Unable to help it, I press a quick, soft kiss to her sweet lips.
“Thank you,kukolka.”
***
“I canwalk,” Nadya protests as soon as the elevator doors spit them out. Trifon ignores her, not meeting her gaze.
I’d say I’m surprised Trifon himself carries her out the elevator doors, but I’m not. That’s my brother. He’s pissed, and it’s present in every line on his face. Still, there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for us.
The same goes for Yulia, who trails behind them, her medical bag in hand and worry all over her soft features.
Janella jumps up from the couch where we’d been nursing cups of tea, she believes can cure almost anything. “Hey guys,” she greets, and helps Trifon settle her onto the couch. Intuitively, despite the concern flashing in her eyes, she manages to hold her tone even. One look at her confirms that she’s fully switched over to caretaker mode. “A little birdie told me we get to have you for a few days. Yay!”
“I’m not a birdie,” I quip, rolling my eyes fondly.
My sister looks up at Janella, then me. “You could be,” Nadya decides.
Janella looks at me with a smug smile. Meanwhile, her fingers gently stroke through Nadya’s hair. “How about some tea and company?”
