Page 24 of Plus-Size Bratva Bride

His eyes are closed and he’s breathing deeply.

I can’t let him sleep yet. I need to make sure he’s ok first.

“Hey.” I slap him lightly on the cheek. “Hey,” I say again, slapping a little harder.

“Calm down, starfish.” He grins weakly, his eyes fluttering open.

“Oh, thank goodness,” I sigh in relief. “Can you lean forward, I need to get your shirt off.”

“You need to take me to dinner first, sweetheart,” he teases, but I can hear he is in pain. His face is bruised from the fight. For all I know, he might be concussed. But the most important thing I need to tend to is the stab wound in his side before he loses anymore blood.

He leans forward and I use my body to support him while I pull his shift off him. I bite my lip as my eyes trace over his naked muscles.

Holy fuck.

It turns out that Adonis has nothing on him.

“You’re staring.” He smirks.

“Mind your own business,” I tease him, happy that he’s at least a little chatty.

I need to keep him talking to keep him awake.

I tear my eyes off his perfect form and onto the gash along his left side, just below his ribs.

“What were you doing there, Rad?” I ask the question that has been burning the inside of my brain to pieces since I saw him.

“You left. I figured you must have gone home,” he says, his words broken by winces of pain as I shift him to the side so I can see the wound better.

“But how did you know wherehomewas for me?” I try my best to keep the question sounding casual. I have to know if he’s found out who I really am.

Tracing my fingers over the knife wound I breathe a sigh of relief. He’s lost a lot of blood, but it isn’t something that would require hospital treatment. It’s a long, deep gash, but I can handle this.

While he answers me, I scratch around in the first aid kit to find something to stop the bleeding. Ah. Yes. This is going to sting like a mother fucker, but it will do the job. I pull a bottle of white power out.

“It’s on your employment record, Jade Blake. The internship keeps information like that on—on your—oh fuck, that’s going to hurt—“ he mutters seeing what’s in my hand.

“You got my address from my internship job?” How the fuck did Andrei decide that myhome addresswasaharmless truthas he called it?

Radmir nods, then grits his teeth as I tilt the bottle and white powder spills out onto the open wound. Immediately it begins to fizz and bubble, the white fizz quickly turning pink as it mixes with blood.

“Fuuuck,” Radmir murmurs through clenched teeth.

“Sorry,” I whisper. “I am going to wipe it clean and then bandage it ok.”

“How do you know how to do this?” he whispers, in too much pain to speak any louder.

“Um, I took a first aid course in college,” I answer quickly.

“Lucky me,” he sighs, his fingers digging into the arm of the sofa.

I pull a packet of sterile wipes open and tug the cloth free. Gently, I wipe around and away from the wound, cleaning away excess blood and hopefully preventing any infection.

“You need one or two stitches,” I mutter, wondering if the bandages are going to be strong enough to hold the wound closed. Maybe he needs a doctor after all.

Radmir leans over me with difficulty and drags the bag towards himself. He scratches around inside until he pulls out a surgical stapler, which he hands to me.

I stare at it in disbelief.

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