Page 9 of Devious Madness

My answer appeases the old woman. “I thought so. You looked like a concerned husband the way you rushed in. Let’s get you back there. They have her in room three.”

I let her lead me through the swinging double doors to the exam rooms. In the middle of the section is a large circular desk where the nurses and doctors are working on computers. A few are paired up at a set of view boxes, looking at x-rays of what looks like a broken arm.

“Here she is. The doctor is in with her already.” The old woman pulls back the curtain that acts as the door.

The doctor is leaning over Mira, peeling off the gauze the EMTs taped over her wound. I stand at the foot of the bed, staying out of his way while he does his exam. She hisses when he probes the injury, and I have to stuff my fists into my pockets.

“Well, the bleeding has stopped finally. These head injuries usually look worse than they are. It definitely needs some stitches; it’s pretty deep, and we’ll want a head CT to be sure there’s no swelling or internal bleeding.” The doctor stands up straight, exposing my presence to her.

Her eyes go wide when she sees me, and the doctor follows her gaze to me, suspicion written all over his face.

“Sorry. I had to follow behind in the car.” I look from thedoctor to her. “I promised Megan I’d call when we knew you were all right.”

“You are?” The doctor remains staring at me.

“Rurik. Mira’s husband.” I grab her feet with both hands and gently squeeze, making it look like I’m just holding her. “She really hit the table hard when she went down.”

“A table?”

Her eyes still wide, she swallows, then purses her lips. It’s faint, but it’s there. Reluctant acceptance. At least for the moment.

“Yeah.” She clears her throat while moving her attention back to the doctor. “Some guy at the Dive Bar accidentally punched me, when I went down, I hit the edge of the pool table.” She fills in the story.

He lifts her face by the chin to get a look at the bruise already forming where that prick’s fist hit her. But it’s this asshole with his fingers on her who’s pissing me off now.

I can’t explain my reaction to it, and there’s no time right now, anyway, to dwell on it.

“That place keeps us in business,” he frowns. “Charlie needs to get another set of hands to help him there. Especially during this time of year.”

“Yeah, Henry’s working on it.” Mira tries to pull her feet out of my grip, but I’m not letting go.

“Well, I’ll get the nurse to set up a suture kit, and we’ll get those stitches in, and I’ll put the order in for the head CT. Just sit tight, all right?” The doc flashes her a warm smile and she nods inresponse.

“Thanks,” I mutter as he passes me and closes the curtain behind him.

As soon as we’re alone, Mira yanks her feet from my grasp and tucks them closer to her.

“Who the hell are you?” she whisper-yells at me.

Smart girl, not wanting anyone to overhear us.

“My name is Rurik Mikhailov. Alexander Volkov asked me to find you.” I fold my arms over my chest. “And I have.”

“I don’t know any Alexander…does he work for Marco DeAngelo? Is that who wants you to find me?” Panic trembles along her voice, but she clears her throat as soon as she hears it.

“No, I don’t work for anyone. Your friend Megan Reed is with Alexander.” Before I can finish the explanation, the doctor walks in with a nurse wheeling a tray up to the bed. I move around to stand on the opposite side and sit on the edge while they get to work.

Mira pretends I’m not even there, jerking her hand away when mine brushes hers.

But when they get started, and the needle pokes into her flesh for the first time, she grabs hold of my hand and squeezes. She keeps a death grip on me the entire time they put in the six stitches to close her wound.

“Sorry, I know it’s tender.” The doctor pulls off his surgical gloves with a snap. “The CT guys should be here in a second. After we get that done, you should be good to go.”

“I need to call Megan,” she says to me as soon as we’re alone again. “Why didn’t she tell me you were coming? She would have told me.”

She’s back to whisper-yelling once we’re alone again.

The curtain rolls back again before I can answer, and I have to clench my jaw to keep from barking at these people to leave us alone for a fucking minute.

---