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Once we’re left alone, I run toward him, not caring whether he’s dirty or not.
“It’s not my blood, serdtse,” he assures me softly. I press my ear against his broad chest to hear the soft drumming of his heart. Finally, I’m able to calm my rapid breathing and frantic pulse.
“What happened?” I demand.
“The Olenkos went after the Gargarins,” he says, his gray eyes nearly black with anger. “They wanted to get back in your father’s good graces.”
“Fedot?” I breathe, recognizing the angry undertone in his words. “It was him, wasn’t it?”
He nods. “He had some sick idea in his head that if he killed me, you’d be his.”
I gulp, fear gripping me tight. He could’ve easily lost tonight. By the look of how battered and bruised he is, he didn’t have an easy time fighting Fedot.
“Did you . . .” I trail off, unsure how to finish the sentence.
“Yes,” Nikolai confirms cooly. “I killed him.”
There’s a small part of me that feels guilty about being relieved that Nik prevailed, especially since, once upon a time, Fedot and I were friends. But it’s a tiny, minuscule part of me. I don’t care about any of the others who were involved tonight. I’m just glad Nikolai came back to me.
“How bad was it?” I ask.
“We had casualties,” he replies in the same detached voice. “I’m not sure about your brother yet.”
At the mention of Igor, I press a hand against my mouth. No matter what state our relationship is right now, he’s my brother. I need to know whether he’s okay.
“Tell me,” I demand.
Nikolai squeezes his eyes shut. He’s tired and sore, but he grants me my wish.
Before he gets into the story, I follow him to the bathroom, where Olga ran a bath. My eyes don’t leave his body as he peels off his clothes, watching for the marks the battle left behind. There’s a nasty, dark-purple bruise on his ribs, and there’s a white layer of plaster on his left hand. With every piece of clothing that comes off, my heart breaks more.
I sit on a stool next to the tub to assist Nikolai while he bathes. As I grab the sponge and wash the blood off his body, he begins speaking. His voice is still detached and emotionless as he tells me about the sniper. My heart stops when he describes Igor’s injury. He dives into the car chase and then moves on to the fight that had ensued.
By the time he’s done, the urge to cry is unbearable, but I swallow the pain and shake my head. I take a deep breath, willing myself to stay strong, at least until I’m alone.
“Serdtse,” Nikolai says, getting my attention. “If Igor were dead, we’d already know.”
I nod, having a hard time maintaining eye contact with him. The father of my unborn child nearly died tonight. I shudder, thinking about how badly tonight could’ve ended.
Finished with his bath, Nikolai dries himself but makes no move to get dressed. We make our way to the bedroom wordlessly, our shoulders touching to reassure ourselves that the other is okay.
“Stay here,” Nikolai tells me when he’s in bed. He can probably read the questions in my eyes because he explains himself. “It’s not safe to leave the house yet.”
“The Gargarins are still out there,” I conclude.
He shrugs. “Right now, I’ve no idea what happened to them. We were caught completely by surprise. None of us expected Fedot to grow a pair and plan something of this sort.”
“It’s a good thing you came back alive,” I whisper, snuggling closer to him. “You can sleep. I’ll get some water, and then I’ll join you.”
“I’ll call your father to check on Igor,” he replies, and I give him a grateful smile. I’m not sure I’m strong enough to make the call myself.
Once I return to the room, he’s already done with the call. He scoots over to the middle of the bed and extends his arm to me in a silent invitation. Inhaling deeply, I swallow the last of my fears and lie by his side, my cheek pressed against his bare chest.
“How is he?” I ask quietly.
“He was shot in the head, but the bullet just grazed his skull,” Nikolai tells me. “He’ll live, but it’ll take him a while to heal. Your father wants us to come over for a meeting in the morning.”
“Okay.”
