“Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Blubbering and partly sobbing all over again, this time with the overwhelming force of gratitude, I wiped my face.
“Sergei is bringing her home. George too. They were wounded,” he said, hurrying across the room to reach Claire. “They’ll need your help.”
I rose with Claire, eager to move, to stretch. To help. To do anything to welcome them home.
As soon as I laid eyes on my daughter, I’d be focused on her, but I wanted to do anything and everything to help these brave heroes as they returned.
“Is Maisie hurt?” I asked as we all rushed toward a lower level of the building. Mikhail had paid to have the whole floor renovated for Claire. She was supposed to use it as a private practice, even as a work space for a telehealth service because she would never stop being a doctor at heart. With state-of-the-art equipment, she now had a full clinic to aid the Orlov men in their recoveries. A few recruits to the family were going through schooling to be nurses and technicians to assist Claire. Several daughters and wives of the men were more than eager to take up the scholarship and full tuition coverage to start up an unofficial—for now—private urgent care.
“No.” Andre led the way, impatient to ensure we were all ready to patch them up. “Roman said Maisie looked uninjured. It’s not easy to tell.”
“Why?” Claire asked. “Is there a concern for internal bleeding?”
“Fuck if I know, I’m not a doctor. Roman’s not either. Maisie won’t let go of Sergei at all. He’s holding her in the car and he’s wounded, so it’s not easy to tell whose blood belongs to which one. But George was conscious and with it when they found them. He has been reporting what went down, and it sounds like he blocked them from even laying a finger on her, other than to gag her.”
Anger and heartache mixed together, but I refused to sink back into the abyss of too many emotions consuming me. I had to beon. I had to be strong and brave to help Maisie recover. To be there to assist Sergei however I could.
I owed him my life.
I did. As I followed Claire’s instructions as she bossed me and Anya, as well as a couple of men, to prepare the stretchers and beds for her to examine all her incoming patients, I was shaken by the solid conviction that I owed Sergei my life. My utmost thanks and gratitude. For saving me twice. For saving my daughter three times now.
It would be so very stupid to keep a tally of any kind, but this man’s commitment to loving and protecting us was beginning to erase and diminish the sorrow and anger I’d felt about Fitz’s death and how it had ended up being connected to Sergei and his men.
Anya and I rushed through the clinic, grabbing everything that Claire told us to collect and set out. It seemed that she wasmost concerned with the prediction of stitching up the men and stopping any bleeding, because we picked up sterilized packages of tools and resources for those purposes.
I didn’t have the time to worry about someone bleeding out. I couldn’t slow down for even a second to visualize the injuries. Suspended in the joy and impatience of their returning, I could barely think straight.
Throughout the panic and chaos, I lost track of how fast the time passed since Andre told us that they were all coming back. When I looked up at the sound of the door opening, they were there.
She was here.
Maisie was home.
Mikhail had gone out to the doors to the garage to help them get everyone out. He strolled into the room, carrying my daughter and seeking me out with a grave expression.
“Maisie!” I dropped the packages of gauze I’d been getting out of a cupboard for Claire and ran to my daughter.
“Mommy!” She turned in Mikhail’s arms and reached out for me. “Mommy!”
I grabbed her from him as he stopped.
“Go on. Take her.” He didn’t hesitate to hand her over. Instead of lingering to make sure she was okay, he doubled back, jogging to help the others again.
Our reunion was messy, with both of us crying. She wouldn’t stop saying my name, sobbing in relief as her tears wet my shirt.
“It’s okay, Maisie. I’ve got you. It will be all right, baby girl.” I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply, staving off the need tobreak down and bawl and never let her out of my sight again. “You’re home. I’m right here and we’re home.”
Clutching her to me, I held her small body with all the strength I had. Tucking her head against my chest, I braced my other hand on her back and let her cry it all out. I couldn’t begin to rationalize what was going through her mind, but I would do as I swore. I would be here for her to comfort her and soothe her.
Relief washed over me, almost making me shaky and needing to sit down with how wobbly my knees were. But I couldn’t go anywhere. Not as I watched Andre help Roman limp into the clinic. Guards filed in, all sporting different wounds but able to walk unassisted. They all entered, but I didn’t see any sign of Sergei or George.
Even though I had my daughter safe in my arms again, I couldn’t rest until I saw the other love of my life. A different love from what I would always have for her. A strong love that no other man could ever compete with for the rest of my life. The love I couldn’t deny for the strong protector I was so lucky to have found.
The wounded Orlov men came in and waved off Claire and Anya. They shook their heads at their attempts to triage them. All of them made clearance, insisting that George and Sergei needed help more.
Four men brought in George on a stretcher. He was alive. Awake. I saw it in the way he scanned the room for Maisie. Seeing her in my arms was all he seemed to need to lie back and rest his head on the stretcher.
Then Mikhail and Andre came in, joining a pair of suited soldiers as they brought Sergei in.
