Chapter 20

twenty

Alexandr

I breathe heavily, my rage billowing out of me.

Growing up, because of my ADHD, I've never managed my anger very well. My parents built me a gym in the basement for this exact reason because, as an adult, it's ten times worse. My whole body is vibrating; she said goodbye, fucking goodbye . I shake my head. Does she really think I'd let her go after our first hurdle? She knew this would be hard.

I hear my brother answer his phone. He curses something about Sofia being near the club and then hangs up just as Sergi speaks.

"Al?" he questions me while my brother observes me, knowing I'm a ticking time bomb. I shake my head again, and turn to chase after Phoebe, before she gets the first flight back to California. Damian and Sergi shout my name, then curse when I speed up, and they follow me, knowing our men will clean up my mess. I walk out of the club and look around the dark parking lot, when I hear a scream, then two gunshots, and I run. I can hear Damian and Sergi running behind me, and when I round the corner, pain like no other spears me through my chest.

My fault. This is my fault.

My woman, my heart, is lying on the ground, bleeding out, with what looks to be Mihai dead next to her.

"Phoebe!" I shout as I run toward her. Blood—so much blood. I kneel and lean over her. "Fuck baby, you're okay, you're going to be okay." She gives me a small smile before coughing, and blood comes out of her mouth. My whole world collapses.

She's dying. No, fuck, no.

"I-I-I lo-ove y-you."

Tears brim over, and I place my hand on her cheek. "Sweetheart, please don't give up. I need you, my malen'kaya ptitsa ." I lean down and kiss her forehead as Sergi comes skidding to her left side, and puts pressure on two very large wounds, tears falling down his cheeks.

"Keep fighting Phoebe Pie," he rasps. She barely lifts her right hand and holds it against his cheek.

"I-I lo-love you, b-big bro-brother."

He sobs as Damian leans over her, a phone to his ear, barking orders while keeping pressure on the bullet wound in her chest.

"Get my fucking wife here now, and hurry with the fucking car." He hangs up. Sofia was already in the area; she wasn't happy with Damian going to the club and decided to come kick his ass.

Damian puts his hand on her cheek. "Come on, sweetheart, don't give up now, don't leave us. Don't leave him." A tear trickles down his face as a sob leaves me. I can't lose her, not now. Please, no, please.

"I-I'm s-s-sorry, d-don't cr-cry."

He lets out a sob, and I lean down, placing a kiss on her forehead and whispering, "You can't leave me, baby. I owe you a lifetime of groveling. Please, baby, don't give up on me."

She tries to reach up, but her arms don't move, and I grab her hand, realizing what she wants, and place it on my cheek. She's so cold.

"I-I'm s-s-sor-ry for no-not trying h-harder."

I sob hard, shaking my head. She's saying, bye, she can't, she fucking can't!

"Sssso c-c-old."

I scream, "Where the fuck are they!" I look down at my girl, and I can hear Sergi sob. Her eyes close, and I rub her cheek.

"No, malen'kaya ptitsa , stay awake," I rasp.

"Sooo ti-tired," she whispers as a car comes to a screeching halt next to us.

I hear Sofia scream but can't focus on her, my eyes staying on my love. Sofia shoves me out of the way, and I fall on my ass. She puts her fingers on Phoebe's neck, tears streaming down her cheeks, while my father leans over Phoebe with tears in his eyes.

"Her pulse is weak; we need to go now!" Sofia states firmly, trying to get a hold of her emotions.

My father and I go to lift Phoebo, while Damian and Sergi try to keep the pressure on her wounds. Suddenly, her eyes close, and I hear her whisper, "Alex", before her chest stops moving.

No, fuck no. Roaring out in pain, I start CPR, screaming, "Phoebe! No, please don't leave me!"

Sergi stands, holding his hands to the back of his head with tears falling from his eyes as my brother has heartbreak all over his face. My father bends forward, leaning his hands on his knee and sobbing. I lean forward and blow two big mouthfuls of air into her mouth, then continue compressions on her chest.

"Please, baby, please." Tears run down my face as Sofia leans over Phoebe's head, checking her pulse. I don't stop the compressions; I can't lose her.

"There's a pulse; we've got to move now ." She shouts the last bit, and Dad and I grab my girl again, and carry her to the massive Mercedes SUV. We all get in, with Sergi driving, while I place Phoebe's head on my lap. Damian sits in front, getting his phone out and calling ahead. Sofia lays Phoebe's legs on her lap, keeping track of her pulse, as my dad sits behind us, leaning over to watch her, too.

As we speed off to the hospital, one of our men in a different car stays behind to clean up.

A couple of minutes later, Sofia cries out again, "She's lost her pulse again," and I quickly move so I'm kneeling behind the driver's seat and start the compressions again, murmuring, "Come on, baby, don't give up now—fight."

Another five minutes later, we arrive at the emergency entrance at General.

I haven't stopped the compressions, and when the door swings open and a doctor on our payroll takes in the carnage, he snaps to it.

"Right, let's get her on a gurney, now."

They quickly move her out and place her on a gurney, where they start their compressions. They bring the defibrillator out and, "Shock in 3, 2, 1, clear ," the doctor shouts, and they shock her, then look at the monitor they attached during the compressions.

Still a flatline.

I put my hands behind my head and beg, "Please, baby, please."

My brother has one arm wrapped around Sofia, who's inconsolable. Damien's hand is gripping my shoulder, my father is gripping the back of my shirt, while Sergi is kneeling, tears flowing from his eyes, and he rasps, "Come on, Phoebe Pie, breathe."

The doctor shouts, "Again!"

He counts down and shocks her again, and the machine starts to beep. I drop my head and let out a sob.

"We have a pulse—move to the OR now!" the doctor shouts again, and they move as we all follow until we reach the ‘restricted access' point, and a nurse comes up to us.

"You can't go any further. Please go to the waiting room, and if you're family, we'll keep you informed."

I growl, ready to rip her head off, when Sergi stands forward.

"I'm her cousin," he points to me, "that's Alexandr Volkov, her fiancé." She pales at my name.

"O-okay, I-I'll let y-you know more w-when we have m-more information," she stutters, then runs the other way while we head to the waiting room.

Damian takes a seat with a crying Sofia in his arms, and Sergi leans against the wall, while I stand in the middle of the room, staring at the doors, with my father standing right next to me. He has his phone to his ear, speaking to my inconsolable mother.

Two hours later, we are still waiting to hear something. I keep pacing, and Sergi growls, "I can't stand around any longer; call me if you hear anything."

We all look at him as he storms out, and I look toward my brother, only to find him already watching me with concern.

I hear, "Sweetheart." I turn to see my mother rushing toward me. She wraps her arms around me, and I let my head fall to her shoulder. As I fall apart, silent sobs wrack my body. My father's arms go around me, too, holding us both tight.

I can hear Sofia sob behind me as I cling to my parents like I'm a small boy again. They both let go of me, and my father grabs my face with both hands and whispers, "She's strong; she's a fucking fighter, so you're not going to lose her. She won't allow it, you hear me."

Tears glaze my father's eyes, and I nod as my mother moves toward me again. She's in sweats, looking less put together than normal, and she wraps her arms around me while Damian and Sofia walk over, and they, too, wrap their arms around me. My father keeps hold of my face as more tears fall from my eyes.

When the doors open, we all look to see a terrified nurse who clearly doesn't want to be here. I walk out of everyone's arms and toward her, and she shyly looks at me and says, "Phoebe Adino's family."

I clear my throat. "I'm her fiancé."

She nods, and she sees Sofia. Sympathy shines in her eyes when she recognizes her, and my heart stops. "The doctor wanted me to come out and give you an update. One of the knife wounds punctured her lung, and they've managed to repair it, but she has also suffered from internal bleeding. They are currently trying to find the source of the bleeding. She has coded several times during the surgery, including on the way to the OR. The second knife wound punctured her bowels, and they're trying to fix that so she won't be stuck with a stoma bag." She clears her throat, and my tears fall faster.

She coded several times.

"Baby, please don't give up," I whisper to myself.

"The bullet just missed her heart, and they are currently trying to find it as well. They believe that's where the internal bleeding is. She also has some damage to her esophagus; it looks like someone tried to strangle her, as well as severe bruising to the right side of her face, like she banged her head on concrete, so she'll most likely have a concussion. She'll be in surgery for several more hours, and that's only if her body can handle it; she's very weak at the moment and has lost a lot of blood. It's going to be touch and go, I'm sorry."

Then she runs out of the room, and as I fall to my knees, a roar of pain booms out while my mother wraps her arms around me. I know what the nurse was trying to say: Phoebe's brain has lacked oxygen; if she does make it, she may never wake up, and if she does, she might not be my Phoebe.

I sob, my body shaking. I feel my father's arms go around me, and I can hear Sofia's cries of pain. Being a nurse, she knows how severe the outcome with my girl could be, if she even makes it off the table.