Page 53 of Bratva Bastard

Was he serious? He looked serious. Did he have any idea what was going on? Or was he just told to do something, and was expected to do it?

“No,” I answered. “I don’t.”

His hand rested on the back of his neck, and he turned away, letting out a half-laugh, followed by a long groan. “This isn’t right,” he mumbled, turning back to face me. “You don’t evenwantthis abortion.” The conflict on his face was evident, and he looked around, as if waiting for a sign to make the right decision.

“If I don’t do this operation, I’ll be fired. No, worse—I’ll be killed and put on display for disobeying Sorokin. But this?”

He groaned, as if he were debating the significance of a baby’s life over his own.

“I didn’t sign up forthis,” he said, motioning to my stomach. “Treating wounds is one thing, butabortions?” He sighed. “I know you probably think I’m a despicable man to work for the Bratva. I know they’re criminals, yet I still help them. But I’m not a fucking monster. Forcing an abortion? It’s fucking sick.”

In an attempt to plead for my life, I begged. “Then please, sir, let me go. I’m not even involved in this Bratva business. I fell for the wrong guy and got thrown into this mess. Please, just let me return to my normal life. My mother has cancer and she can’t survive without me. Ineedto go home.”

He mulled it over for a moment before he finally said, “Alright. I think I have a plan that can keep both of us alive. Do exactly as I say or you fuck everything up for us both.”

I let out the breath I’d held for I didn’t even know how long. Relief washed over me knowing he wouldn’t force me to go through with the procedure.

“Alright,” he said, his eyes looking up as he worked through the plan in his head. “Lay down on the bed.”

I couldn’t help the funny look I gave him. “What?” I asked, confused why he would want to help me, but then ask me to lie down.

“Look, we don’t have time for second guessing. You’re going to pretend I gave you the anesthesia, which means you have to bestill.Don’t even flutter your fucking eyelids, or Andrei will know something is up. He’s going to come back once more before the surgery, and you will be completely still when he does. Then, when he leaves the room, I’m going to ‘perform the surgery’ which doesn’t take long. It’s in the recovery room that you’ll escape.”

I listened to the plan, not commenting or asking any questions until after he finished explaining.

“In the recovery room is a bathroom with a small window. It’s a tight fit, but I think you can get through it. When they come back, I’ll tell them you’re in recovery and should be knocked out for a while. They’ll see that you’re missing and assume you did it on your own since I wheeled you into the recovery myself, and they saw me come out empty-handed. I’ll suggest you’re too drugged up to get far and to check the rooms in the clinic. While they look within the building, you’ll be running away on the outside. But in order for this to work, you’ll need to be absolutely still, no matter what. Understand?”

“Yes.”

I laid in the bed, stilling my body as much as possible, pretending to be knocked out when Andrei came back, as predicted. “She’s all ready for surgery, huh?” His voice sounded pleased, and even with my eyes closed, I could see the smug expression on his face. He punched my hip, laughing from my lack of response. But holy shit, was it hard to keep from crying out when his ring dug into my skin. “Man, she’s really out.”

“Yeah. I had to subdue the bitch,” the doctor said, his tone much darker than when he spoke to me earlier. “She wouldn’t quit kicking and biting me. She’s a feisty one, so watch out when she wakes up.”

Andrei chuckled, his laughter shrinking as his footsteps took him away. “I’ll leave you to it,” he said, the door closing a moment later. But it was too risky to open my eyes and sit up. I nearly shook from how terrified I was to be found out.

“It’s okay,” the doctor whispered. “He’s gone.”

I opened my eyes, the doctor’s face slowly coming into focus. He was much older, but still attractive for his age. A kinder soul than his fellow colleagues, for sure. “You did good, even when he hit you.”

“Thanks,” I groaned.

He brought my clothes to me and shoved them under my back where no one would see. “I figured you might need these for your escape. But it’d be wise to wait until after you get out of the building before you change. You can’t spare the time.”

I was just relieved to have clothes to change into after. My eyes welled up with tears, and I looked the doctor in the eyes. “Thank you.”

He patted my head and told me to lie down. “We’re going to the recovery room now. I’ll have to wheel you past another guard, so be still.”

I closed my eyes and he wheeled my gurney out the door. I could tell because I felt the gurney jump when it went over the bump in the doorway. After a moment, I heard another voice.

“Is that her?”

The doctor’s familiar voice answered, “The patient is ready for recovery. She’ll be coherent within the hour, but will remain groggy for a while.”

A buzzer sounded, and a door opened. I was moving again, and a moment later, the doctor whispered, “Showtime. Through the door to the right. Wait until you hear the door shut. Good luck.” His words came out so choppy and quick, I could barely understand. But I knew the plan.

When I heard the door close, my eyes sprang open, and I hopped off the bed, grabbing my clothes. I headed to the door on the right end of the room, pleased to see a toilet because it meant I was on the right track. Looking up, I saw my savior—the window.

But how the hell was I supposed to reach that? It was a small window toward the top of the wall. Maybe to the tall assholes around here it was nothing, but to me it was a major challenge that hindered my progress.

---