Page 43 of Wrathful King
“She’ll be okay,” I muttered, more to myself than to my brother. “She’s strong.”
“Did you get the message to Romero?” Dante had been nothing but patient and understanding since he’d laid eyes on her broken, emaciated form in my arms. He’d gone through a similar hell once before, after all. “He must be going out of his goddamn mind. Maybe it’s good he’s her father for all intents and purposes. He’s better than our own.”Our own.Angelo Leone had been anything but a father. If his conduct when Dante was taken was anything to go by, there was no chance he’d have gone out of his way to save Reina if he were still alive.
“I did. He’s relieved. He wanted to meet us at the port, but I told him to sit tight. The sooner we’re out of this country, the better.”
“Does he know she’ll need to go to rehab?”
Darius’s lips tightened, and he shook his head. “Reina’s addiction is the least of our worries.”
He was right. She was in bad shape. Thankfully, most of the blood staining her skin and her nightgown wasn’t hers, but the bruises and scarring definitely were, and they were no small thing.
We left the Cortes compound blown to kingdom come, courtesy of the Callahan twins. Kian pointed out the strategic locations to set up the explosives for maximum impact, and the twins were more than happy to oblige. A few of Cortes’s men took off on foot, but Kian made it his personal mission to track them down.
I suspected those men knew all about the brother who’d done the impossible and fled the Cortes cartel—his reputation was god-like among organizations. So when they’d caught wind of him, they’d hightailed it out of there before they could meet their fate. The worms were slippery, but they wouldn’t be able to evade capture for long. Just like my fucking cousin wouldn’t be able to run from me when I eventually tracked him down.
Darius’s eyes flickered to the rearview mirror every so often, checking on my wife. We both knew this would leave scars. I had already started arranging increased security for my compound back in Jolo. Clearly, a month in Perez’s captivity, not to mention that crossing by sea, had left my wife feeling more vulnerable than I knew how to deal with on my own.
I pressed my forehead to hers, murmuring soft words, hoping they’d reach her somehow.
I cursed the evil that had ripped us apart. Perez dimmed her light, but I was determined to bring it back. “We’ll get through this, cinnamon girl. Together.”
At the sound of my voice, her eyelids fluttered open, but there was no recognition in them.
“Just hang on.”
Her eyelashes settled back on her cheeks, almost as if she couldn’t stand to look at me, and she didn’t open them again for the rest of the bumpy ride.
* * *
I paced back and forth outside Reina’s hospital room, my fingers curled into fists as I waited for the doctor to finish with her. The sight of blood never particularly bothered me, but seeing so much of it on my wife was an experience I’d spend the rest of my days trying to shake from my memory.
Twice now I’d almost lost her. And twice now I’d failed her.
Never again. Never fucking again.
When Reina’s condition worsened and our team of private doctors couldn’t manage, we had to take a detour to Colombia. Once there, a private hospital took her and a few of the other rescued women in for emergency procedures. Raphael Santos, the head of the Santos cartel, provided us all with security and a compound to stay in.
Thank fuck the Nikolaev family had a good relationship with the Colombians and was able to get through to him in time.
The door opened and I lifted my head, squaring my shoulders as the doctor stepped out. He was older, maybe in his late fifties, with gray hair and dark eyes.
“How is she, Doctor?” I rushed to him.
“We disinfected her wounds and stitched up several deeper ones,” he said. “She’s malnourished, dehydrated, and unfortunately, very much under the influence of drugs.” He took a deep breath. “The next few days will prove difficult. I’ve inserted an IV, which she’ll be receiving fluids through.”
“Thank you.”
He nodded once. “She’s in very rough shape, Amon. Sedation is necessary at this stage, but please remember that it cannot be a lasting treatment. Opioid withdrawal comes with a barrage of symptoms, including anxiety, depression, and, in Reina’s case, forms of post-traumatic stress. It will take weeks, if not months, for her to regain some semblance of normalcy. She needs full support and empathy from those around her.”
“I understand,” I replied.
“I’ll be back tomorrow to monitor her and administer more medication. Her vitals stats are feeding directly into my phone, but if you need anything urgently, just grab one of the nurses.”
“Will do. Good night, Doc.”
“Good night, sir.” He strode away, leaving behind more questions than answers. It was a start though, and that was what mattered.
I leaned against the doorway, watching Reina sleep. Her skin was so pale, so translucent. She must have lost twenty pounds since I last saw her, which felt like years ago.
