Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 104682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 523(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 523(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Nikolai responded in Russian. I released his hand so he could hurry to the man I could only assume was his father. Sensing the need to give them privacy, I stayed where I was. I tried to gauge Nikolai's reactions to whatever his father was telling him but with all the commotion in the ER, it was hard to make much out.
It was surprisingly easy not to lose myself in the chaos of the emergency room department. I was too focused on Nikolai to notice much else. When he turned and came back toward me, I could see the relief in his eyes and I automatically let out the breath I'd been holding.
"Is he okay?" I asked when Nikolai reached me.
"He's awake," he said. "They're running some tests on him. My sister and mother are with him."
"That's good," I said. I began to reach for Nikolai before I remembered where we were and the fact that his father was watching. It had been one thing when Nikolai had needed me in the car, but I didn't dare risk embarrassing him in public. I dropped my hand and crossed my arms.
"Can I get you or your family anything?" I asked. “Coffee or something to eat?"
Nikolai shook his head and said, “I think we’re good. But I should call Mike to come and get you."
"I’m fine, Nikolai. I can get home on my own."
Nikolai immediately began shaking his head harder. “No," he said firmly. His eyes pinned mine. "No," he repeated.
Before I could argue with him, a little girl called out to Nikolai. Nikolai turned as the child came barreling down the hallway toward him.
"Natalia," Nikolai said as he scooped her up.
“Maks is sick, Uncle Nikolai," the little girl said.
“I know, honey, but he's going to be okay. He always is, isn't he?"
As the little girl nodded, I considered Nikolai's words. The child had been ill before? I’d just assumed this was an isolated event but maybe it wasn't.
"Jude, this is my niece, Natalia,” Nikolai said as he turned to face me. The little girl had long, curly hair and rich dark brown eyes like her uncle. She leaned her head against his chest.
"Hi," she said shyly.
“Hi," I responded.
"Are you Uncle Nikolai's boyfriend?" she asked.
My reaction was one of absolute shock. Nikolai, on the other hand, seemed unfazed.
"Sorry, she asks every guy she ever sees me with that," he said with a small smile. To the little girl he said, “No, Nattie, Jude and I work together."
"He keeps people safe like you?" Natalia asked.
I didn't hear Nikolai's response because I was too busy digesting the fact that he’d just pretty much confirmed the one thing I'd been wondering about since I’d met the man.
Nikolai was gay.
He had to be. Why else would the little girl ask if I was his boyfriend? That certainly wouldn't be a normal question for a kid to ask about another man unless they knew their loved one liked boys instead of girls.
The knowledge that Nikolai apparently played for my team should've been just another piece of information, but it opened up a whole new can of worms. First off, I now had this almost obscene hope that I somehow had more of a chance with the man. And second, while I realized Dannie wasn't any kind of threat, it was now even more likely that Nikolai had or would hook up with Angel.
"Jude," I heard Nikolai say. I didn't realize how far into my head I’d gone until I came back to earth and found myself face-to-face with an older man and woman who were standing beside Nikolai. The man I recognized as his father, which meant the woman was probably his mother. Good Lord, how long had they been standing there and how much of the conversation had I missed?
I needed to get it together. The fact that Nikolai was gay changed absolutely nothing.
"What? Sorry," I blurted as I looked frantically around. Nikolai was still holding his niece in his arms, but he managed to free one hand up enough to close gently around my upper arm. I didn’t allow myself to read too much into the move.
"Jude, these are my parents, Dimitri and Anna Falkov."
The older couple both smiled and nodded their heads at me. Then they began speaking Russian to their son.
"They say it's nice to meet you," Nikolai said, then explained, "They both understand a little bit of English but don't speak much of it."
"It's nice to meet you too," I said to the man and woman. Dimitri looked like an older version of Nikolai while his mother was considerably shorter than her husband and son. She had a warm energy to her and smelled like cinnamon. I recalled the fact that the parents owned a bakery. Right after that came the memory of throwing their struggling business in their son’s face.