Oh, God.
Oh, no. Please, no. Don’t?—
I sucked in a deep breath, shocked by how rough he looked. So much blood coated him. His face was devastated under the crimson, showing cuts and swollen spots. He looked like he’d gone through hell and back to rescue Maisie.
Oh, Sergei.
You have to live.
You have to survive.
My heart ached at the sight of him suffering, feeling the wicked slash of pain in knowing he’d been hurt at all.
“Mommy, I don’t want him to die!”
Maisie cried out, and I hugged her closer as I shushed her.
“I don’t want him to die!”
Multitasking, Claire ordered one of the guards to start helping Anya clean off the blood and find George’s wounds to compress the bleeding. “Stop the blood,” she ordered, her hands moving as she inventoried Sergei. But she focused on me, too, while rapidly assessing her patient. She hadn’t forgotten about our smallest patient. Looking up from Sergei while not stopping her hands, she blew out a breath to keep her hair out of her face. “Nat. Is she hurt?”
I moved to the side and propped Maisie on a counter against the wall. She wouldn’t let me release her fully as she clung to me, but I soothed her and urged her to let me see. “I just need to check that you’re not bleeding or hurt.” She allowed me a little gap tolook her over. No cuts were visible. Her dress was intact without any rips or tears from a blade.
“Did they hurt you? Did those men hurt you, baby girl? Show me where.”
She shook her head, staring at Sergei behind me as Claire assessed him on the table.
He had yet to move.
“No, Mommy. George stopped them.” She tore her gaze from Sergei and looked at George on the other table. “He wouldn’t let them hurt me.”
I exhaled in relief, turning to shake my head at Claire. “No. I don’t think she’s hurt.”
She nodded once and resumed giving all her attention to Sergei, assisting the guard she was using as a trainee to listen to his heart and lungs, to hook him up to get a read on his vitals.
“I don’t want him to die, Mommy,” Maisie sobbed.
I scooped her off the counter and held her tightly, making sure to stand with her back to the table. Blocking her view of the man who lay bleeding out, I stroked my hand over the back of her head and shushed her. I didn’t know what I said. I didn’t know what I could say. All I could do was murmur to her and comfort her as I rocked in my step almost like I had when she was a baby.
“Remember that Claire is a doctor,” I told her softly. “She’s a good doctor. She used to work in the hospital.”
“But they said he was dying!”
Roman sat up on his bed slightly, shaking his head as he overheard her. So many people were talking, and with Clairebarking out orders, it was chaos. But he’d heard. “No, Maisie. He’s not going to die. Claire is helping him.”
Maisie didn’t believe him. “I heard you. I heard you say so in the car that he’s dying. He’s bleeding too fast.”
I latched my gaze on Roman, afraid it could be true. He made eye contact and shook his head.
I couldn’t tell if he was denying what she said or if he was willing it not to be true.
It couldn’t be true.
Sergei nearly dying for her shifted something visceral in me. Something permanent.
No.
You can’t die.
