Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 100417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
“Just Lucía.”
His breath shuddered from his lungs. “Did you know that your name means . . . light?”
Light. Sun. I was his sun, and he was my Russian. He’d taken a bullet for me. He’d never booked Ivanna. He loved me.
Máxim rested his forehead against mine, rocking me in his arms. “I’m begging you not to leave me, Lucía.”
Needed to tell him . . . “Te quiero tanto, Máxim. I love you so much.”
Those black dots swarmed again. The last thing I heard was his anguished roar.
CHAPTER 39
Beeping sounds. The smell of disinfectant. Hushed tones.
In some hazy twilight, I knew I was in a hospital. I heard Máxim’s voice, and others’ as well.
Over what felt like days, conversations filtered through my mind to the beat of a heart monitor. I clung to threads.
In one, Aleks was angry with his brother: “We had to fucking hear about this from Vasili?” Aleks and Natalie had come here? They’d left their honeymoon?
In another, Natalie had asked Máxim, “Is your chest going to be okay?”
“Thanks to Lucía.” He’s out of danger, gracias a Dios. “That fuck actually had a bead on my forehead.” And Máxim had kept charging forward??
In another thread, he told them about his fight with me, ending with: “This is all my fault. When I thought she would leave me for another . . . I imagined life without her, and I lost my fucking mind. Couldn’t think or see reason.” He asked Aleks, “Did you know jealousy before you met Natalie?”
“Maks, I didn’t know anything.”
One time, I’d heard Máxim outside the room in a heated conversation with someone. Inside, Aleks had asked Natalie, “Why do these things keep happening to our family?”
“Oh, no, no. The Sevastyans do not get to shoulder this one. Cat—Lucía—never would’ve met Maksim if she hadn’t already been in danger. And I jeopardized myself when I searched for my birth parents. When she pulls through, everything will be better.”
Whenever Máxim was alone, he pleaded for me to wake up, promising me that I was safe. “You lost a lot of blood, but you’ve already started healing. When you wake up, you’ll be as good as new. Please come back to me, Lucía. . . .”
He also took the blame for everything: “You told me ‘don’t do this,’ but I kept hurting you. I drove you away.” Now I sensed he was beside me, alone. I could feel his warmth, even before he took my hand in both of his.
He sat on the edge of my bed with a ragged exhalation. “Solnyshko, you must wake. It’s been four days.”
En serio? I’m here! I could hear him perfectly, but I couldn’t speak. Or move. How frustrating! Why couldn’t I clasp his hand?
Voice thick, he began talking, about everything and nothing. He described the weather and wondered aloud what kind of dog I would like. He talked about trips we would take to fill up my passport. He relayed how awful Vasili felt for his suspicions about me.
I wished I could tell Máxim that I would take the ugliest mutt I could find out of the pound, one with street cred, one no one else would bring home. I’d like to see Cuba and Russia. I wished I could tell him that I understood and appreciated Vasili’s concern. I’d had no identity, could’ve been preying on Máxim. All the man had wanted to do was look out for “boss.”
How could I fault him for that? When I wanted to as well?
Máxim continued, “How will you forgive me? Anything I could possibly do wrong, I did.”
You took a bullet for me, Ruso!
“You can do anything now. You’ll have your life back. You’re so young, and you wanted your freedom. If you choose to leave me, how will I let you go? I couldn’t before.”
I wouldn’t choose to! I needed to tell Máxim that we could work through this, that I was ready to do the heavy lifting in our relationship—but I couldn’t even lift my lids.
“Will you please wake for me?” He raised my hand to press my palm against his face, as if he were starved for my touch. Stubble covered his jaw. Was his cheek damp? “Better things await you, Lucía.”
I was ready for him. I wanted my Russian. I wanted to claim my name again and start a brand-new life. If I could just wake up. I fought to lift my lids.
The heart monitor began to speed up.
Beep . . . . . . Beep . . . . . Beep . . . . Beep . . . Beep
I felt my free hand clench the sheet. Hey! That was new.
Beep . . Beep . . Beep . . Beep . . Beep . . Beep
He exhaled a gust of breath. “Are you about to wake? Come back to me! You can do this!”
If I could move, maybe I could talk now. I struggled to grate out, “Máxim.”
His hands clenched mine as he snapped, “STAY AWAKE!” then he bellowed for a nurse. To me, he said, “Keep talking! Please, Lucía!”
I cracked open my eyes. Once I got used to the brightness and could focus, I gasped at his appearance. He hadn’t shaved in days, and his hair was a mess. His eyes were so red, the blue of his irises appeared indigo. His suit was rumpled, his shirt collar unbuttoned. I could see the edge of his bandage.
“You look like hell.” My voice was scratchy.
That made him smile. He raised my hand to his stubbled jaw. “Good of you to notice.” His eyes were glinting.
Damn, I loved this man. “What happened?”
“The blade missed everything major, but you lost too much blood. You went into shock. After surgery, you didn’t wake up.”
Surgery? I glanced down, saw the edge of my own bandage peeking out from a hospital gown. “Are you okay? When you were shot . . .”
“I’m fine now. It will take more than a bullet to keep me from you.”
My voice was weak and my throat felt like it was on fire, but I still teased, “Do you like me when I pull through?”