Chapter 13 - Lev

The house erupted into chaos only moments after the men still at my home got Pavel out of there. He'd left kicking and screaming practically, but apparently, he wasn't just a raging piece of shit. He was also devious.

The group from Pavel's office had returned, and it looked like hitting the office had been anything but a simple recon mission.

"The fuck happened?!" I shouted at Pietor.

He crossed the crowded entry hall floor to my side as I stared down at the destruction. Three of my guards were banged up pretty damn good, helping each other to tie bandages taken from their ride's emergency kits and stopping bleeding.

"Pavel hired help is what." Pietor swiped blood away from his eye as it dripped down his face. "Fucking heap of ‘em waiting at the office just in case we showed up. Your boy had a feeling we'd go hunting, apparently."

Rage boiled through my veins, making my stomach clench down as it spewed acid up the back of my throat.

"They got the fucking jump on you? And how you'd let that one—"

Pietor jabbed his finger in my face. "We didn't let anything, so fuck off with that. They were professionals. Hired guns who've been around. We also took several down with us before we all returned to our fucking corners."

"Unbelievable." I shook my head, clenching my jaw as I tallied up the crew that was making my hallway a damn triage unit.

They groaned to varying degrees, and as I took in the sorry sight of smashed-up help, I came up one body short.

"Where's Igor?"

As if summoned, a few of the other men pulled the asshole inside. He screamed—a massive fucking hole in the guy's leg that rained blood in a constant stream. Igor was going to bleed out and die on my damn floor if something wasn't done about it.

"He's bad boss! He needs more than we can give him." Marco, one of my clean-up crew scent to do away with blood when shit got messy, was helping to get Igor inside and down on the floor.

"Shit!"

Pavel had cost me money, convenience, and men. I could make more money, but getting the crew up to my standards again was going to be a real fucking pain in the ass. And Igor was a loyal bit of muscle. Bastard doesn't deserve this.

"Ahh!" He screamed again as he was shuffled to the floor, clutching his leg even as Marco and another set of hands kept him from messing with the injury. "Fucking guy, boss. He j-jabbed me with a fucking knife! Big fucking knife like from that damn m-movie!"

Igor's words were slurred and stuttering as he leaked onto the tile. This is not good. Not fucking good!

"Move. You get his leg up and his head down."

Suddenly, Parker was rushing in from behind me, shoving me and others out of the way until she got to Igor's side. She directed Marco, ordering him around, but his eyes shot to me for confirmation. I just nodded.

"Do it."

She's the fucking doctor, after all.

With that, Marco hoisted Igor's leg up, and I watched as Parker took a large duffle the guys had brought in and used it to prop up the injured thigh. She was at his head as she shoved down on the wound, the strain obvious in her muscles.

"You're going to keep talking to me, okay?" She looked down, snapping her fingers at the people around her. "I need bandages! Lots! Get me everything you have, and do it fast!"

Again, there was a flicker of tension as eyes found me, and again, I just nodded.

"Get the doctor anything she needs. Treat it like my own orders." Another moment of hesitation. "Now!"

Parker"s orders caused a frenzy of activity as everyone began rushing to do as they were told. We had some first aid supplies in the house, and soon, the crew came back with literally everything we had—as requested.

"Good. You," she pointed at one of them, "get this bandage open; don't touch the pad. Then open the rest and hand them to me as I call for them. You find long gauze to wrap around it."

When the clean bandage was open, Parker snagged it, packing it over the top of the bloody cloth that had been hastily tied to Igor's leg.

She made eye contact with him, smiling like nothing was wrong. "What's your name?"

"Igor." His eyes lulled, the blood loss getting worse.

I knelt down by his head, getting the gist of what Parker was doing.

"Hey, Igor." I leaned toward him. "Talk to me. What did this fucker look like? Who am I dealing with when you're on your feet?"

A strained chuckle left the guy's mouth, and then he hissed as Parker continued to work with the bandages.

"Real dumb son of bitch, boss. Way too damn short. Stupid red hair."

I nodded, putting my hand on his chest and pressing lightly. "He'll catch a shot in the thigh, don't you worry. He'll go nice and slow."

Igor laughed again before the pain stole it from him. Still, I was happy to see that Parker had wrapped up his leg real damn good in the time we were talking. She was fast, commanding, and braver than I would have expected, considering she was face-to-face with the obvious repercussions of extreme violence.

Emergency room. Didn't I hear something about her working in the emergency room?

"Securing the gauze, Igor. So I need you to keep really still, all right?"

Igor just gave Parker a quick nod. What Parker didn't mention to the guy was that by "securing the gauze," what she meant was squeezing the hell out of his leg. I let him clamp down on my hand with his own and watched as Parker got his covered and compressed completely. Igor flinched against the pressure, but I'll hand it to the fucker. He did his best to hold still.

"All right. You're going to be okay." Parker flicked her eyes up to me, another silent command in the room, this one asking me to step away with her.

"Okay, asshole. You wait right here while I go chat with the doc. Maybe I'll be nice enough to give you the rest of the day off, huh?"

We both laughed and then I stepped to the quiet corner of the room where Parker was waiting. Her brows were down over her eyes, a serious weight to them, and she stood with her hands on her hips.

As I approached, she took the lead, meeting my eyes and beginning her rundown of what was going on with Igor.

"You need to get him to a proper hospital. I've stabilized him, and the bleeding has pretty much stopped, thanks to the pressure, but that won't last forever. He needs antibiotics in case of infection and sutures. I don't have my medical equipment or sterile facilities, so I can't do it here. Should've left the knife in. Had the doctors remove it. You'll need someone to take him, and the transport must be gentle."

Parker seemed…It wasn't flustered or nervous. I had never actually witnessed her actions. It was more like she was focused, speaking the details out loud so that the entire world had a record of what was done and what needed doing.

"I'll be sure to tell him to leave the blade in his meat next time."

Sarcasm chewed through me, but only because I wasn't sure what to do with the tingling rumble in my veins. I'd seen plenty of men die—ones I'd killed and ones I wanted to stick around. It didn't bother me anymore. So whatever this was, it wasn't that.

Parker glared at me as she crossed her arms over her chest. The motion drew my attention to the blood covering her hands and sleeves, her clothes in general. She'd done a hell of a lot of work for Igor in those few minutes, and she was right. He needed to get to the hospital.

Turning over my shoulder, I searched for Pietor in the crowd. He was parked on the floor near a set of men who were popping his shoulder back into the joint. As it slid in, he grunted low, holding his arm to his stomach to keep it still.

"Pietor!" He looked up at my voice. "Get Igor to the hospital. Go to one of our regulars. Have someone look at that shoulder, too."

"Please don't jostle him much!" Parker added. "He needs his leg to stay elevated and compressed."

Rolling his eyes, Pietor nodded. He stood up from the floor and ordered the uninjured men around him to help with Igor.

The frantic energy of the room backed off, and I was left standing in a room full of slightly moaning men. Parker eyed me hard before going to check on the remaining assholes who were suffering from her father's bullshit. It didn't take her long to give each of them the go-ahead to get some rest in their own rooms, and then it was just the two of us.

As she walked over, her soft curls haggard from being hastily tied back in a ponytail and her white shirt stained with blood, Parker brushed a stray hair out of her eyes with the back of her wrist. It wasn't really working, so I reached forward, tucking the curl behind her ear.

We hung there in silence for a moment, but then the gravity of what Parker had done made my stomach clench, a tension headache crawling up the back of my skull.

"Why did you help? You've made it pretty damn clear that you don't want to be here, and you don't like me or my men."

Parker sighed, her stare going to the floor. "I almost didn't, honestly. But I'm a doctor, or at least a single step shy of being one, and people were hurt. It's my duty to do something."

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "Duty? Really? Come on, you have no reason to help any of us. Kidnapped, right?"

She shook her head. "Look, I'm not explaining this to you. I helped because it's what I do. This is who I am. Can't you just be grateful?"

Squinting at her, I balled my hands into fists. "Grateful?"

I stepped away, and at once, I remembered where we were. Parker was in the entry with me instead of her room where I'd left her.

"How the hell did you get out of my room anyway?" I bit out the words, frowning down my nose at Parker.

"That's what you're concerned about?" Her voice pitched up, and she raised her brows at me, her mouth falling open slightly. "Christ! You didn't lock the door. God, you're right. Why did I help you? I should've just run, but for some reason, I actually came back here and helped Igor."

She stepped forward, her smaller stature only coming up to my chest, but still, she glared at me, her eyes as sharp as daggers.

"He might still lose that leg, you know? Guess it's better than dying, though, huh? Which is what would have happened if I weren't here. So you're welcome."

"Oh, no. You're not getting me to offer some bullshit ‘thank you' when I know you have ulterior motives."

"Ulterior—You can't be serious!"

I shoved past her, heading for the bedroom. Igor's blood still clung to me, the smell of all that destruction fresh, and I needed a damn shower. The fact that I was deeply considering making it a cold one because Parker was riling up my veins like a damn hit of cocaine didn't mean anything.

"Get good and comfortable, little one. Tomorrow, you and I are taking a little trip."

Parker's steps followed me down the hall, and I could hear her shouting at my back, even as I refused to turn around.

"Lev! For what?! You can't do this! Please! You've seen what I can do. I need to get back to the hospi—"

"You need to pick out a dress. The judge is marrying us in the morning."

I wasn't about to hear any more of her savior nonsense. She'd helped Igor to get in my good graces. Well, tough fucking luck, sweetheart. You still belong to me.

With that, I just pressed further down the hall toward my room. I wanted that fucking shower, and I wanted it now.