Page 71 of Merciless Union
I throw the phone to the ground and begin tearing off the ends of my jacket to wrap around Nik, hopefully stopping some of the blood from coming out. But it’s no use. His blood quickly seeps through the fabric.
“Fuck,” I whisper.
“It will be all right,” George says, pressing down on Nik’s wound. “Everything will be all right.”
Nik groans. “It fucking hurts, man. It … fucking … hurts.” His head rolls to the side as his eyes close.
“No!” I check his pulse. He’s still alive. I start to perform CPR, trying to bring him back to consciousness.
After a few minutes, the doctor arrives, an older man with spectacles. He pushes George and me out of the way and looks over Nik.
He clucks his tongue. “We need to get him to the hospital. Now.”
“You can’t do anything for him here?” I ask.
“Nothing on my own. He needs surgery. I’ll help explain the situation to the staff when we get to the hospital.”
“Good. Because Nik can’t get in trouble for this. And don’t mention this happened at my bar. The police are just itching for a way to bring my business down. Just say it was a freak robbery, and he got hurt.”
“Duly noted. Help me pick him up.”
We carry him to the doctor’s car and drive to the hospital. The emergency room nurses and doctors help Nik onto a gurney and bring him inside.
A nurse stops us from following. “We need space. Please wait over there, and we’ll inform you how he’s doing.” She hands me a form. “And fill this out, so we have his information, including his emergency contact.”
“I’m his emergency contact,” I growl.
The nurse’s eyes widen. “Ok, then.” She rushes away to help tend to Nik.
“Come on,” George says, walking to the seated area. The doctor stays by the staff, helping to explain Nik’s injuries. “You might want to call my daughter, let her know you won’t be home for a while.”
I sigh. “I need to wash my hands.” I find a bathroom, wash my bloody hands, and strip off my torn and blood-stained jacket before splashing water on my face.
Nik is my best friend. If he dies, the pain would be immeasurable.
I call Arina and explain to her what’s going on.
“Are you all right?” she asks.
Her worry for me warms my heart. I never thought that would be possible—her caring enough to be concerned about me or me caring enough that she does that it warms me.
“The doctors are looking over him now. I might be here all night.”
“Ok. Give Nik my best wishes.”
“I will.” Before we hang up, there’s a beat where it seems one of us might say more. But the moment passes. “Bye,” I finally say.
I hang up, then call my mom, informing her of what’s happened and directing her to make sure the guards are vigilant. Stepan might try to go after my family. Or Arina, who’s home alone right now.
Fuck. Fucking Stepan and his fucking weasel face.
After I walk back out, the doctor informs me they’re bringing Nik in for surgery. I slump down next to George.
“I can’t believe he got hit,” I say. “Nik’s never gotten hit before in his life.”
“Unfortunately, there’s a first time for everything.”
We sit in silence for an hour when I hear the familiar voice of Elena coming down the hallway.
