Page 39 of Bratva Hunter

“Set her on the table. Is this her blood?”

“Some of it. The guy cut her neck.”

Cloths scrape at my neck as the old doctor peruses me. “It’s not a deep cut. She needs to get this other blood off her, though.” His head pivots to the other man that came in with Rory. “Find her clothes.” The man runs off to the SUVs.

“Oh God, Rosa. Are you okay?” Roric takes my hand and grits his teeth.

Reality snacks me upside the head, making my face and head hurt again. “No. You lied. From the very beginning, you planned to give me to the men who wanted to kill me. Leave me alone.”

A man who looks like Rory, just grayer, walks up to me. “Are you okay?”

“No. Do I look like I’m okay?”

“I apologize. I’m your new father.”

“You’re his father?” I point to Rory.

“Yes. And you are now my daughter, and the child you carry is my new grandchild.”

“I’m not staying here. You and your family gave me to my family so they could kill me or sell me to the highest bidder. Which they did. My child and I are leaving.”

His head nods. “Well, right now, you’re going with the doctor so he can check you. We’ll discuss the future after you’ve had a little time to calm down.”

The doctor, or dentist, as he was called, pats my arm. He’s holding a stack of clothes. “Let’s find you something clean to wear.” He leads me through another door into an office.

Nodding, I see the door to the private bathroom as Roric moves to follow. The doctor clears his throat and stares at Rory until he stops his feet. The man shakes his head. “No.” The doctor moves ahead and holds open the door.

Stepping into the bathroom, my eyes catch my reflection in the mirror. I look like Carrie from the movie. Blood covers my neck, shirt, hair, back, and down my pants to my white shoes that now look like a Jackson Pollack painting. “Wow, that’s a lot of blood.”

The doctor pushes open a door at the back of the restroom. “Here’s a shower.”

Debate rages in my brain and the side for cleanliness wins. I take the clothes from his hand and enter the shower room. It looks like a standard hotel shower. Must be for the flight crews. There are containers of shampoo, body wash, and conditioner on the wall. Stripping off the bloody clothes, I step under the warm water. Please, just wash off this horrible day.

Ten minutes later, I step out into the shower room in a large beige towel. Dr. Kovalev leans against the counter with his stethoscope around his neck. “How are you feeling?”

His question gives me pause. Physically, I feel okay. Emotionally, I feel like I’ve been on a four-hour roller-coaster ride, which ended with a ton of bricks landing on me. Fatigue fills my body and my soul. “I need to eat and sleep.” My head jerks to the door.

“No one is going to walk in.” He removes the stethoscope from his neck. “May I listen to your heart?”

“Sure. It’s broken.”

He nods as he approaches. “I can only imagine. Tell me what happened after you left with your uncles?”

“Arturo hit me in the face and I passed out. I woke up in the back of an SUV. He said something about chloroform. I don’tthink anyone touched me, beyond putting me in the back, but they aren’t honorable, so who knows?”

“I’m sorry.” The sadness on the man’s face makes me feel worse. “I’d like to schedule you in to see an OB.”

“Okay.”

The door handle jiggles, and Dr. Kovalev storms to the door we walked through, growling in Russian. He jerks open the door and barks a few words, turns, and walks back to me. “Sorry about that. Roric is impatient.”

“Fuck.” I grit my teeth and hold my eyes closed. “What happens now?”

He blows out his breath. “You’re not going to like the next part of this adventure. But it will keep you and your child safe from your family.”

“But what’s going to keep me safe from Roric and his?”

He pats my arm and leads me to the door. “Roric loves you.”

---