Page 87 of Forced Bratva Hostage

“Ow,” I say, trying to hold my breath until the pain passes.

“I’m so sorry.” She quickly steps towards me, reaching out to touch my cheek. “How do you feel?”

“Thirsty,” I murmur.

She grabs the glass next to my bed and fills it with fresh water from a jug, jingling with ice cubes. She holds the glass against my lips, with her hand cupped behind my head, and lets me take small sips until my throat eases and begins to relax.

“Do you want me to raise your bed a little so you can sit up?” she asks.

I nod.

At the press of a button, the backrest of my bed slowly rises until I hold up my hand, letting her know to stop. The new angle eases some of the pressure off my stomach.

“I feel like I got shot,” I groan.

She laughs, a beautiful light light-hearted sound that spreads a smile across my lips. “Youdidget shot.” She nods. Her eyes are happy, but I see something else there.

“And you? Are you okay?” I ask, remembering that she was right next to her brother when I killed him.

“All that matters is that you’re okay,” she whispers.

Leaning over my bed, she kisses me in the most gentle way. She’s scared she will hurt me, but the truth is that all I want to feel is her lips against mine.

I reach up with my hand that isn’t tangled in a drip and wrap it around the back of her head, pulling her lips tighter against mine and kissing her more urgently.

She moans softly against my lips, and it sends a thrill through my body. Even though my abdomen hurts, everything else clearly still works.

“Ehem.”

We stop, and the doctor is smiling at us. “None of that, please. He’ll rip his stitches out if he moves too much,” he warns us.

Tia blushes and steps aside as the doc examines my charts and the readings beeping away on the screen behind me. “It’s nice to see you awake and talking,” he says.

He shines a light in my eyes and presses a stethoscope against my chest, listening to the rhythm of my heart.

“How do you feel?” he asks.

“Like I got shot,” I say again.

He laughs. “Apart from that.”

“Not too bad. What happened? How long was out?”

“Three days,” he says, raising his brows. “And you’re going to have to stay rested for at least two weeks before your body will be ready to start slowly moving around again. That bullet ripped through you, and we had to stitch everything up.You’re really lucky to be alive, man.” He turns to smile at Tia. “And you’re lucky to have someone who cares so deeply about you. She and everyone else who has been hovering around the hospital, waiting for you to wake up.”

“Everyone?” I ask, my brows knotting.

Tia smiles and steps close to me again when the doctor moves away to make notes in the chart. She leans over, taking my hand in hers.

“Nico, Ark, and Luka have visited every day,” she explains. “The others all popped in after your surgery, but you weren’t awake, and Nico told them to give you space until you were rested and back home.”

“Wow. I didn’t expect them to be looking out for me like that,” I say, smiling.

The doctor chuckles. “Like I said, you’re a lucky guy.”

He runs through my surgery and what recovery is going to be like. I have to stay in the hospital until the drain comes out in two days, then I can go home, but I’m under strict instructions to stay in bed and only move around a little bit each day.

Tia listens intently. I can see her taking notes in her mind, making sure she doesn’t miss a single instruction for my care.

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