The Bratva King's Kidnapped Bride - Page 57

“It’s really me. Now, let’s get you out of here and checked out at a hospital,” I said.

“No, I don’t think anything’s broken,” she told me shakily. “I just want to go home.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do,” I told her, gently kissing her unbruised cheek. “I’ll have my private physician come look you over, though. No arguments.”

She sniffled, and I stood, reaching down to help her get to her feet. Her legs wobbled, and she swayed against me. After two steps toward the cars circling the shed, she went down like a stone.

“Katie,” I shouted, dropping beside her to check for a pulse. I patted her cheeks, and she groaned but didn’t open her eyes. I shouted again, but couldn’t wake her.

Just when I thought it was over, it was getting worse. I picked her up and ran for one of the cars, yelling for someone to get us to the nearest hospital. Loading her carefully into the backseat, I climbed in with her to cradle her head on my lap.

“You’re going to be fine,” I whispered to her.

Lev jumped into the car and careened back down the long, empty road to find someone to save Katie while I held her close to keep her from being jostled. All thoughts of revenge were far from my mind as I silently commanded her to stay with me.

Chapter 33 – Katie

I woke up in a moving car again. At first, I thought the whole terrible ordeal had been a nightmare, and it was only just beginning. But there was no burlap sack over my head, and when I frantically jerked my arms, my hands were free.

“Hush, we’re almost there,” a familiar voice said, low and comforting.

A cool hand swept across my brow, and I opened my eyes to find that I was cradled in Aleks’s lap. Was this the dream, and was I still huddled in the corner of that shack? I didn’t understand why he looked so worried if he’d found me, but his brow was creased with concern. His blue eyes searched my face as he brushed a strand of hair behind my ear.

“Everything’s fine now,” he murmured.

I shut my eyes again, feeling myself drifting away from him, even though I wanted to stay.

He held me closer, his cheek rough against mine. “I’m so sorry, Katie. I’m so, so very sorry.”

What was he apologizing for? I moved my lips to speak, but they were too dry. My throat no longer worked properly. I could only slip back into unconsciousness, hoping this part was real.

The next time I opened my eyes, overhead lights were glaring down on me. I squeezed them shut against the brightness. There was no longer hard concrete digging into my bones, but the mattress I lay on wasn’t exactly comfortable either. Cool air wafted down on me, and when I took a breath, it didn’t reek like sweaty men, whiskey, or dry rot anymore. A bit antiseptic, and now that I was slowly coming to my senses bit by bit, I heard soft beeping noises and a low hum of strange voices in the distance.

Rolling to the side, I opened my eyes again. A thin, scratchy sheet covered my arms and when I pulled them out, my injured wrist was tightly wrapped. A tube ran into my other arm, connected to a bag of clear liquid.

At my slight motion, Aleks appeared at my side. He pulled the sheet snugly around me and smoothed my hair as I tried a smile. The side of my face hurt, and my head began to throb now that I was awake, but the sight of him made it all bearable.

“This is real,” I said, just to make sure. I wanted to shake my head to clear away the last of the cobwebs that still clung to my brain but knew it would start an avalanche of pain.

He stroked my hair again, carefully avoiding the tender area where I’d been punched. He smiled back at me, but his eyes were strained.

“Are you all right? Are you comfortable enough?” He looked around, suppressing a sigh. “We got you to the nearest hospital. I don’t know how good it is.”

I wasn’t comfortable. I was stiff, sore, and confused, but none of that mattered. I was so happy to see his face and know I wasn’t dreaming that I reached for him, pulling him down for a long overdue kiss. It seemed like years ago that I was upset with him, but he’d found me when I needed him most. His daring rescue mission replayed in my head as I clung to him.

Bits and pieces still seemed like I’d imagined them. Had I seen his brother Lev and a bunch of other men running toward the shack, waving guns? The scenes worked backwards in my mind, coming in broken clips, all the way to the point where Sergei was still alive.

I whimpered against Aleks’s mouth, feeling a tear leak out of my eyes. I felt like a sponge that had been left in the hot sun, shriveled and parched. My heart wanted to sob for my dead guard, but there were no more tears available.

Aleks pulled away, a haunted look in his eyes. “I need to tell you something,” he said in a constricted voice, full of sorrow.

I looked away. “I know about Sergei,” I said. “I saw them kill him.”

Smoothing my blanket aside, he sat next to me on the bed. I’d never seen him look so somber, almost fearful. That wasn’t like Aleks at all, and I gripped his hand, anxious there was worse news to come.

“What is it?” I asked, frowning when he pulled his hand out of mine. What was so wrong he suddenly didn’t want to touch me?

“Katie,” he started. “I—”