Boris shouts more questions about Bulgarian routes and American contacts, but Georgi stares through my father, seeing only whatever nightmare has control over him.
His chest heaves as panic tightens his features again. “It’s too hot,” he whimpers. Then, with a horror that cuts deep into my heart, he mumbles, “They’re dead. I couldn’t wake them.”
He sounds like a child trapped in terror, and it’s one of the saddest things I’ve ever been forced to witness.
When Georgi surges forward again, a wave of danger ripples through the air, and it has Boris stepping closer to me. “The fucking serum is useless.” He swings to me, the back of his hand striking across my cheek, and unable to catch myself, I fall sideways.
“Don’t touch her!” Georgi roars, the chains clanking as he strains against them. “I’ll fucking kill you.”
Boris ignores Georgi and levels me with a cruel glare that promises nothing good for me. “Watch the piece of shit. If he dies, so does Simona.”
When my father leaves, all the guards file out of the room. Martin grips the handle and gives me an evil grin as he begins to pull the door shut. “Good luck with lover boy.”
The moment we’re alone, I scramble to my feet and rush to the cabinet. I grab a clean cloth and quickly wet it under the cold water before hurrying to Georgi.
Breathing raggedly and way too fast, he keeps mumbling words I can’t make out. His legs tremble so violently, I know he’d crumple to the ground if it weren’t for the chains holding him up.
“Georgi,” I say softly, but he doesn’t seem to hear me.
I reach up, trying to wipe the cool cloth over his feverish face, but he jerks his head backward before his body lunges at me. I jump a few steps away, and the chains stop him a hair’s breadth from me.
With his teeth clenched, a growl rumbles from his chest, making intense fear ripple through me.
“It’s Nina,” I squeak fearfully. “I just want to help you.”
Slowly, the darkness in his eyes retreats until he seems to recognize me. His pupils are still blown wide as he searches my face. It looks like he’s trying to figure out what is happening.
“Fire,” he croaks.
I quickly wipe the sweat off his face while saying, “There’s no fire.” Hurrying to the sink, I fill the jug with water and carry it back to him.
When I place my hand on the side of his jaw, he leans into my touch, and I’m so thankful when he drinks all the water.
Some more clarity returns to his eyes, but his breaths are still too fast.
I toss the jug into the sink, where it lands with a clank, while I run to the cabinet to get the blood pressure cuff.
When my gaze touches on the bucket, I decide against it, and knowing the door is locked and he can’t get out, I run to the other side of the room where the chains are locked in place. Pressing the button of the control mechanism, I watch impatiently as the metal links roll forward, easing the biting hold on Georgi’s arms.
Once he drops to his knees and his arms lower to his sides, I stop and hurry to him. I quickly crouch and fasten the cuff around his bicep.
His muscles keep jumping and trembling from the merciless strain they’ve endured.
As I take his vitals, I feel his eyes burning on my face.
Satisfied that he’s not at risk of having a heart attack, I set the blood pressure cuff aside.
Wanting to help him, I begin to massage his bicep, and giving him a pleading look, I say, “You need to slow down your breathing.”
Georgi leans into me, and when he presses his forehead to mine, I freeze.
“I couldn’t wake them.” His voice breaks toward the end of the sentence, making my heart clench again. “There was smoke everywhere. I couldn’t…” His voice fails him.
Unable to keep back, I wrap my arms around him, supporting his weight when he leans further into me.
Careful not to touch any of the wounds, I try to rub his shoulder blades to ease some of the pain he must be feeling.
At first, his body remains tense, but then he finally relaxes little by little under my touch.
