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He parted from her long enough to whisper, “I love you,” before he kissed her again.
Alina’s thoughts leaked out of her mind. “Three,” she slurred. Three times he’d said he loved her. And three times he’d kissed her. Or did the before and after the words count as four?
Sound faded, but not sensation. One of his hands dropped to her broken wrist, the fingers barely touching, but there was pain. A fiery, aching pain. It was only fair. Maybe now she’d remember and not touch him in return.
“Can’t… drag you out.” And she was sorry for it. She’d only partially rescued him. He was so much better at being the rescuer. “Giovanni… coming.” The words fell out like slow drips. They must not have made sense or been audible because Luka’s eyebrows drew together as he stared at her. Then his head lowered to her chest, resting on it as his hand slid to the back of her head, cushioning it from the ground, even though she was already wearing a bandage, and that made no sense to Alina. Why was she wearing a bandage already? Why were her thoughts like wisps scattering on the wind? Why was Luka laying his head on her so gently, his ear pressed as if listening for her heartbeat?
She no longer remembered, but her eyes slid shut from the comfort of him being there, touching her even if it hurt him.
Chapter 34
Luka settled himself into the chair beside Alina’s bed, just as he had the night before. He encircled her uninjured wrist with his fingers, ignoring the ache in his leg and his ribs from sneaking back to her room. Giovanni had wanted him to rest.
Luka would rest once he saw her eyes focused on him again. He needed the slight comfort from feeling her steady pulse under his fingers and watching her chest rise and fall.
The door clicked open behind him. Giovanni didn’t sigh or say anything. He crossed the room to the opposite chair and sat, giving Luka silent company in the middle of the night.
Killing Ivankov had been Luka’s sole purpose for so many years. And he had finally succeeded. The stab to the pakhan’s artery had bled out, but Luka had barely cared. He hadn’t killed him for revenge or for his freedom.
Someone had been hurting Alina, and that person needed to die. It was as simple as that.
Remembering how Ivankov had whined as he bled out—that it wasn’t fair, that he should be Luka’s focus, that Luka should be looking at him—didn’t bring him any comfort or satisfaction. He felt nothing as he thought about how his monster had died.
The sound of Alina’s fluttering heartbeat under his ear as her eyes closed and didn’t reopen was his nightmare.
She should have never come for him.
“She’s alive, Luka,” Giovanni murmured.
Luka’s fingers tightened around her wrist, but her pulse didn’t jump. It remained steady.
Giovanni cleared his throat. “The scans showed no swelling or fractures. There’s no reason she won’t wake up.”
Only she hadn’t.
The doctor Antonio had dragged to the destroyed estate had insisted Alina be brought to the hospital when he couldn’t wake her onsite. Giovanni had pulled strings to speed up the testing process. The doctors spouted off letters that meant nothing to Luka and then allowed her to be hidden away at the Di Salvo estate to recover. They had said she would recover.
The Bratva currently lacked a leader, but they were still dangerous. La Cosa Nostra families had stepped up and were helping to eradicate them.
Luka’s broken leg and cracked ribs made him less than helpful in assisting. He’d been treated at the hospital as well, and everyone kept yelling at him for putting pressure on the cast, but he couldn’t stay in bed.
When he’d thought he’d lost Alina, all his fear had been sucked away. Having her still alive made him nothing but fearful. It may have been irrational, but if he didn’t continue watching her, he felt like she might fade away.
Luka wasn’t sure how much of the night had passed when Nera came for Giovanni. She crossed to him in her nightgown, wrapping her arms around his neck from behind and resting her chin on his head. Giovanni’s hands came up to rest on her arms, as if it was only natural.
Luka wouldn’t even complain about the pain if Alina could wake up and touch him. He doubted he’d tell her to stop, no matter how much it hurt.
Nera stared at Alina over Giovanni’s head. “We’re all waiting. Luka especially.” She did that every time she came. Talked to Alina as if she could hear her.
Luka’s fingers stroked Alina’s skin as he watched her.
“You deserve your rest because you did it. You rescued Luka.” Nera hugged Giovanni tighter. “He’s safe, and he’s here.”
Luka’s breath stabbed behind his wrapped chest.
“Luka, remember what the doctor said,” Nera said. “Sleep is often induced to help recovery. Alina will be okay.”
Luka wanted to believe it.
