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Broken Promises

Page 21

by I. A. Dice


  I leaned over her, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead, my heart thudding painfully. She was warm, but her lips looked almost blue. I sat in the chair, grabbed her hand, and lowered my head, kissing her knuckles one after the other, back and forth.

  Julij stopped at the foot of the bed, and for a moment, he just watched the mechanical ventilator help my star breath.

  “I’ll go and see where Anatolij is. Maybe he’ll tell me what the hell happened.”

  I nodded, waiting for the door to close behind him before moving my gaze to Layla. Long eyelashes cast a shadow on the bony cheeks.

  “Hey, I’m here,” I whispered, pulling her hand to my lips. “Your turn cutie. Don’t you dare leave me now.” I swallowed the big lump in my throat, and rested my forehead on her hand, my eyes fluttering closed. “I love you, and I’m taking you home.”

  A while later, a quiet knock brought me out of the haze I found myself in, staring at my star, and willing the dark scenarios to leave my head. The door opened slowly, and Julij’s head appeared in the gap.

  “Got a minute?”

  “Sure.” I pressed a kiss to Layla’s temple and left the room.

  Anatolij waited right outside with a fresh dressing covering most of his neck. The superiority was gone from his face, and now, standing three feet away from me, he looked terrified, guilt-ridden.

  He wasn’t afraid of me. No, he was afraid to lose Layla just hours after he admitted to being her father.

  “Dante, I’m…” he began right away, but I shushed him.

  “Don’t apologize. You think I don’t know you’d take that bullet for her if you had the chance? I do. All I want to know now is the prognosis.”

  “She’ll be fine. I don’t doubt it for one second. The surgery went according to plan, and she’s got the best doctors looking after her.”

  No, she didn’t. Not for about five more hours.

  “The best doctor is on his way here,” I said. “And when he arrives, whatever he says goes. Can you make sure everyone is aware that he’ll be in charge?”

  Before he could answer, a blaring noise started behind the door of room six hundred and twenty-two. Among the alarm noise, a flat-lining heart monitor.

  Heart-bursting terror spilled underneath my skin like a nasty bruise. Blood drained from my face.

  I threw myself at the door, bursting into the room like a wrecking ball. Hundreds of cold hands squeezed my throat, and the image became blurry once I saw the long, green line on one of the monitors.

  Julij and Anatolij grabbed my hands to pull me out of the room just as several doctors and nurses rushed to Layla’s bed. The door slammed shut in our faces as soon as we were out on the corridor.

  My legs could no longer hold my weight. I stumbled backward and slid down the wall, then hid my head between my knees, and covered it with my hands, shuddering all over, and trying to cut off from reality.

  In the magnitude of overpowering emotions and thoughts, my mind focused on the flat-lining heart monitor coming from behind the closed door, and I was falling apart.

  Everything ceased to exist because, without her, there was nothing.

  I was nothing.

  The terrifying sound echoed down the corridor, resonating all over my body, causing my mind to give up because it was constantly announcing that Layla’s heart stopped beating.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  DANTE

  Everything came back on track when a petrified Julij slapped me across the face with all his might. I wasn’t sure how he managed to lift me off the floor or where his strength came from, but it worked.

  I snapped out of the lethargy, the insanity I was slipping into.

  “She’s back,” he said after making sure I wasn’t just looking at him, but seeing him too. “Layla’s alive,” he added bluntly. “She’s still here.”

  I blinked a few times and only then noticed a doctor standing behind Julij’s back. He watched us, his expression impenetrable as he waited for me to pull myself together.

  And I had a hard time doing so. My body couldn’t keep up with my heart and mind. A few seconds ago, I was damn near catatonic, but now I felt alive again. Hope returned along with determination and faith, and I silently prayed that it was the last time I’d feel as if happiness disappeared.

  “What happened?” I asked, and cleared my throat to get rid of the hoarseness.

  The doctor looked fed up. It seemed that if he weren’t scared of us, he’d shrug and spread his hands to say he had no clue. But he was scared, he knew what sort of damage Anatolij was able to inflict.

  “Layla is very weak,” he stated.

  “We know that,” Anatolij snapped.

  Not unlike me, he had no patience left. I could see in his eyes that he felt guilty and wanted to redeem himself somehow. The thing was – I didn’t blame him. There was nothing he could’ve done, nothing I would’ve done differently.

  The doctor sighed and moved his gaze to meet mine. “We considered it to be a blood clot, but we can’t see one, and it looks like her body is simply giving up. She’s too weak.”

  I clenched my teeth. “Then what’s the plan? What can you do now?”

  “Unfortunately, not much. We did everything we could, now we have to wait and see if she stabilizes. It all depends on whether her organs pick up work, whether she’s strong enough to pull through.”

  “She’s strong,” I repeated for the hundredth time. I kept saying it because no one could doubt it. Everyone had to believe that Layla was going to make it. “She’s strong. She’ll be fine.”

  The doctor nodded though there was no hope in his eyes. He bowed slightly and marched away in the opposite direction.

  Julij wanted to say something, but I didn’t feel like talking. I raised my hand to stop him from trying, then entered Layla’s room.

  I closed the door behind me so I could have her to myself. She needed peace, and I needed her. I wanted to watch her calm face, hold her hand, and believe that the worst was behind us, that now it’d only get better.

  Layla had her whole life in front of her. She wasn’t even twenty yet but endured more than most do during a lifetime. She deserved peace, and I wanted to give it to her.

  I sat in the chair next to the bed, took her hand, and pressed my lips to her knuckles.

  “When you get out of here…” I whispered, my eyes closed. “I won’t ever let you out of my sight again. I won’t ever risk losing you. I’ll reorganize my work, change the way the business operates…” I inhaled deeply, “I’ll leave it all behind if that’s what you want. Just don’t give up. I need you. You promised not to leave me ever again.”

  There wasn’t a thing I wouldn’t do if it meant Layla would get better. Faith was never a part of my life, but right now, I was the most believing atheist God had ever seen.

  I sat motionless for what seemed like hours, watching her and the machines surrounding the bed. My heart was sinking every time the pause between one heartbeat, and the next seemed longer than before.

  The door to her room opened after a soft knock, and Anatolij walked in. “You should rest. Shower, dinner, nap. You’re more than welcome at my house any time you want.”

  Julij watched Layla with a mixture of fear and regret in his eyes.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” I said.

  I knew I’d have to go at some point, and get some sleep, that I’d have to eat and drink to be able to support Layla and watch over her, but I didn’t intend to move until Carlton got to the hospital. Only under his protection could I leave my girl alone for several hours. I trusted him. I was sure he’d do everything and much more to keep her alive.

  “Spades, Vince and some of my men called,” Julij began, moving his gaze from Layla to me. “Morte canceled the order. Information spreads surprisingly quickly.”

  “We can expect him in Moscow anytime now.”

  He frowned, awaiting an explanation.

  “I have the woman he loves and the son he didn’t know he has. He�
�s supposed to meet me here once he calls off the hit.”

  “Why didn’t you gut that whore the second the order came out?!”

  Under normal circumstances, I would’ve snarled at him, but the circumstances were far from normal, and I didn’t intend to waste my strength or shred my tongue on bickering with Julij. Besides, his emotional reaction was, in part, understandable.

  “She ran away years ago. I almost forgot she existed.” My attention switched to Anatolij. “I hope you won’t mind if I invite Morte to your house. I’ve got something to tell him.”

  “Not at all. I’ll send my men to the airport. They’ll let us know when he lands.”

  TWENTY-NINE

  DANTE

  Five hours passed peacefully. I drank three cups of coffee and watched the monitors by Layla’s bed, trying to decipher the charts.

  I even attempted to check her dressing.

  As delicately as I could, I lifted the patch on one side. The wound looked clean, and the stitching was immaculate. I knew Layla would see no problem in adding another scar to her ever-growing collection, but I, on the other hand, was going to die a little under an avalanche of remorse every time I’d look at it, willing to turn back time, and trust my gut instead of sending her to Moscow.

  With another cup of coffee, I returned to Layla’s room, and minutes later, the door stood open again. Lew arrived with Carlton who dropped a small travel bag on the floor by the wall, and with a stern, focused expression scanned the monitors surrounding Layla’s bed.

  “How is she?” he asked, then shook my hand and moved toward the foot of the bed to retrieve the notes.

  Two vertical lines on his forehead told me he didn’t understand much of the Russian scribbles.

  “Her heart stopped, and the doctor here says she’s too weak.”

  He shook his head, settling for reading printouts from the machines. “He’s not wrong. She’s weak,” he murmured. “She lost a lot of blood, couple that with anesthesia, blood transfusion, all the meds, and…” He paused, eyebrows pulling together. He went back to check Layla’s notes, and it looked as if his mind was doing two hundred miles an hour analyzing the information. “No blood-thinning meds? Why?”

  My eyes grew a little wider. “Do I look like a doctor?”

  He ignored the snappishness in my voice. We grew up together, and Carlton was well aware of my commanding nature. The good thing about him was that he wasn’t scared of me, and giving the circumstances, he must’ve understood I was in no state to control my temper.

  “Wait here. I’ll go and get the doctor.”

  I left the room and came back five minutes later with the attending, Julij, and Anatolij to find that Carlton unplugged Layla from all the monitors, and pushed her bed away from the wall.

  “Tell him I need access to radiology.”

  “I speak English,” the doctor retorted, crossing his hands. “We did an echo after the cardiac arrest and haven’t found a clot.”

  “It’s a clot,” Carlton said. “And her heart will stop again. It’s just a matter of time. Why didn’t you give her any blood-thinning meds?”

  “She didn’t need them. It’s not a clot. I know how to do my job. Angiograph will only strain her that much more.” He turned his back to Carlton, his eyes jumping between Anatolij and me. “She might die during the procedure.”

  Carlton scoffed, shaking his head a firm no, then looked at me, and raised his eyebrow, mutually urging me to take care of it.

  Anatolij watched me, awaiting my call.

  “Like I said before – whatever Carlton says, goes.”

  The doctor gritted his teeth. “I will not be held accountable if something goes wrong,” he told Anatolij, then grabbed one of the IV bags and took it off the stand. “The radiology is three floors down.”

  I held the door open, watching Carlton wheel Layla out of the room with the help of her former doctor.

  “You stay here,” Carlton said when I wanted to follow. “Believe me when I say that you don’t want to watch. It’ll take a while. Go get a coffee, I’ll come and get you when I’m done. Or better yet, get some sleep. You look like shit.”

  “Have you seen you lately?”

  He chuckled, elbowing my ribs. “It’ll take around three hours to prep her and do the procedure. And then I have to get rid of that clot too, so you’re looking at a good few hours wait.”

  Anatolij placed his hand on my shoulder. “He’s right. You need to rest. We’ll go back to my house.”

  Sitting around in the waiting room for the better part of the night wouldn’t do me any good. I knew Carlton would call with updates, and so I bobbed my head, kissed Layla and then, standing arm in arm with Julij and Anatolij, we watched Carlton push Layla’s bed down the corridor and into an elevator.

  With him around, I stopped worrying about Layla surviving. There was no other option. She was too important, too valuable to die. Her life wasn’t going to end today or at any time in the near future.

  It was me who was supposed to die first, paying for years of sins committed as a mafia man. For years of extortion, racketeering, and murders. All the scams, ruthlessness, and arrogance. But not yet.

  They say a bad thing never dies. And I hoped it was at least in part true because I was looking forward to something at last – to a long and happy life with Layla.

  It wasn’t until we left the hospital that I felt drained. Worrying about my girl sucked out all the energy from me. A black limousine waited outside the hospital and took us to Anatolij’s house. It was almost ten p.m. by the time I collapsed on a large bed in the room Layla occupied for the past few weeks.

  I felt right at home, surrounded by the sheets soaked in her sweet smell. With the phone set on loud, and close to my ear, I closed my eyes, falling asleep at the snap of my fingers.

  It felt as if the ringtone woke me up no more than five minutes later, but a quick glance at the clock confirmed I was flat out for six hours.

  Wide awake, with muscles hard as a stone, and mind flooding with unwanted scenarios, I slid my thumb across the screen, answering an incoming call from Carlton.

  “She’s fine,” he said as if to put my mind at ease straight away. “It was a clot. We did the surgery and got it out. Her vitals improved. She’s still unconscious, but I’ll be gradually reducing the meds now.”

  I sat up. Sleep the very last thing on my mind. With the good news came new strength, a new dose of courage and hope.

  “Does that mean she’ll be okay?”

  Despite sounding tired and relieved himself, he managed a low chuckle. “Did you doubt my skills? Yes, she’ll be okay. Forty-eight hours from now, you’ll be able to take her back home.”

  I squeezed the phone hard, then closed my teeth on the back of my hand, relief spilling over my skin like warm water.

  “Thank you,” I managed, the happiness almost uncontainable. “I’ll be there soon.”

  I took a shower, changed into a pair of jeans and a black sweater, and left the room at least a stone lighter than when I entered it.

  The castle was dark, and quiet, the sound of my shoes tapping on the concrete floor echoing through the corridors. I ascended the stairs, and a glint of light coming from the dining room caught my attention.

  “I thought you’d be asleep,” I said, entering the room to find Julij sitting at the table, a half-full glass of whiskey in his hand.

  He lifted his head, fixing a drunken gaze on my face. For a moment, he just watched me, disdain and hatred boiling in his eyes.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  He scoffed, and finished the drink in one go, then lit up a cigarette, blowing the smoke in my direction. “She’s my cousin,” he spat out. “My cousin. My family. And you knew. You knew all this time, and you let me fall deeper and deeper for a girl I can’t ever hope to be with.”

  “You never should’ve hoped.” The satisfaction I expected to get out of this moment failed to arrive. Instead, I felt a little sorry for him. “Layla is
mine, Julij. She was mine for a long time now, and you had no right to think she could be yours.”

  Julij raised from the chair, holding onto the table for support. “I’d never act on it while she’s with you, and you know it.”

  “But you were waiting for us to fall apart so you could swoop in, and make her fall for you, right?”

  Anatolij entered the room wearing the same suit he wore in the evening. “I think you had enough, Julij. Go and sleep it off.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do,” Julij barked, taking a couple of unsteady steps in my direction, pointing a finger. “You’ve won at life, Dante. Don’t you dare fuck it up, because if there’s one thing you can say about me is that I take care of my family. And you can be sure that you’ll end up six feet under if you ever hurt her.”

  In the state, he was in I hadn’t expected to hear anything smart come out of his mouth, but the way he handled the situation had me stunned. He loved Layla, and I expected nothing short of a big row, but not for the first time Julij proved he wasn’t the spoilt brat I pegged him for.

  There was more to him, and I could see our friendship growing stronger with time and lasting a lifetime.

  “I take it Carlton called,” Anatolij said. “How is she?”

  “He found and removed the clot. Layla’s fine. More than fine, actually,” a small smile tugged on the corners of my lips. “Carlton says she’ll be good to go back to Chicago in two days.”

  I could almost hear the weight sitting on Anatolij’s shoulders fall to the floor with a thud.

  “She’s an Aristow after all,” Julij smiled. “A fighter.” Then he left the room, and together with Anatolij, we listened to him bounce off the walls on his way upstairs.

  “You go ahead, I’ll freshen up and follow you to the hospital,” Anatolij said, but then his phone started ringing.

  And before he answered, mine was ringing too.

  I fished out my cell from the pocket, and pressed the phone to my ear, watching Anatolij do the same.

  “I’m at the airport in Moscow,” Morte said, sounding as if he walked through hell and back twice.

 

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