Chapter Twenty-One

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Elian

I never felt more conflicted than I did when I walked into my condo to find my sister bleeding and Elizabeth standing there with traumatized eyes, her whole body shaking.

In the end, though, someone with a bleeding head wound had to take priority.

Cinna and I shuffled Islah into my car, then barreled toward the urgent care, demanding the woman at the front desk call in Dr. Conti.

He came flying in the door not more than five minutes later, his hair still wet from the shower, wearing rumpled clothes, the same ones he’d likely taken off before his shower, his eyes wide and panicked.

“What do we have here?” he asked as he led us into an exam room.

“Head wound here,” I said, rubbing my sister’s arm. “And a gunshot wound there,” I went on, waving at Cinna.

“I’m fine,” Cinna insisted for the fourth time, but she was sweating in her hairline and looking pale.

She was holding it together because she was worried about Islah.

Dr. Conti slipped on gloves and looked at the back of Islah’s head. “Okay. Not too bad,” he said, carefully probing around the wound with his fingers. “The bleeding always makes it look worse than it is.”

“She seems a little out of it,” Cinna insisted.

“Did she lose consciousness?” Dr. Conti asked.

“No,” Cinna said.

“Has there been any vomiting? Bleeding or fluid draining from the nose or ears?”

“No.”

“Okay,” Dr. Conti said, producing a pen light, and flashing it in Islah’s eyes. “Follow the light for me, honey,” he said, voice soothing. “Good. Good. Okay. And do you know where you are?”

“Urgent care.”

“And who are these people here?” he asked, waving back toward us.

“My brother and Cinna,” she said, just as the door burst open, and a panicked Dav came rushing in, making a beeline for Cinna. “And Dav,” Islah added.

“Good,” Dr. Conti said. “And do you have any ringing in your ears? Any strange spots in your vision?”

“No.”

“Good. Any weakness in your arms or legs?” he asked, watching as Islah lifted each.

“No.”

“You’re not slurring either, so that’s a good sign. Can you hop down for me and just do a quick little walk around the room?” he asked, making sure he was right there at her side in case she stumbled as she moved around Cinna and Dav, the latter trying to pull Cinna’s jacket off, so he could look at the wound.

“Alright, well, you seem to be doing okay. It’s not abnormal for her to have been a little spaced out or confused right after her brain knocked around in her skull,” he said, speaking to us as he gathered supplies to treat her head wound. “Of course, someone needs to keep an eye on her. Even waking her up on occasion and asking her simple questions to make sure there is no mental confusion. And if you notice any of the symptoms I asked about just a moment ago, she should follow up with the emergency room, where she can get some scans done to see what is going on. We don’t have them here,” he added, looking at me, making sure I understood he was doing everything in his power.

“Okay,” I agreed, nodding.

“My head hurts,” Islah said, as if we didn’t all see how small her eyes were, how much she was struggling against the stark fluorescent lights in the office.

“Yeah, I’m sure it does, honey. We can get you some acetaminophen for it, but NSAIDs are off the table, and I don’t really feel comfortable prescribing any pain meds until we see how you do through the night. I’m sorry I can’t do more,” he said.

To that, Islah made a little whimpering sound that made my heart ache for her, knowing that this shit never should have been able to happen.

I should have had more guards around.

Sent the girls out of state where no one could get to them.

“Okay,” Dr. Conti said. “We’re just going to get you numbed up, and then I will just put a few staples in.”

“Are you going to have to shave my head?” Islah asked, sounding both horrified and resigned at the same time.

“Just a small spot. No one will know if you pull your hair back after the staples are out,” Dr. Conti told her, giving her a soft smile.

As the doctor concentrated on Islah, her hand squeezing mine, Dav finally wrestled Cinna out of her jacket to check out her arm.

She was right. It had been a flesh wound at the area just under her shoulder in the fatty part of her arm. Still, I was sure it hurt like a bitch.

Dav pulled her in closer, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“The boys are freaking out,” Dav said, meaning the teens they’d all but adopted.

“You shouldn’t have told them,” Cinna insisted.

“They’re not little kids. They knew something was up. I’ll text them.”

“Elian?” Islah called, bringing my attention back to her.

“Yeah?”

“Where’s Elizabeth?” she asked.

“She’s at the condo,” I told her, giving her hand a squeeze.

“Is she okay?” she asked. “She… saved us,” Islah said, making my heart squeeze in my chest.

I hadn’t pestered Cinna with questions on the short drive to urgent care. I didn’t want to upset Islah if she had a bad head wound.

And I couldn’t exactly ask questions with Dr. Conti in the room with us.

“She’s okay,” I told Islah. “She’s with Serano.”

“And Rico,” Cinna said. “I let him know.”

Which meant that, at the very least, Saff and Renzo were also descending on my condo as we stood here.

There was a Bratva enforcer dead on my floor after all.

“Okay,” Dr. Conti said. “Let me go just grab you that acetaminophen.”

“Okay,” Cinna said as soon as the door was closed. “The short of it is, we were expecting pizza.”

“And I opened the door before even thinking,” Islah said.

“It’s not your fault,” Cinna insisted. “He came in hot, knocked Islah back into the wall, then came at me as I reached for the gun. From there, it got bad fast. I got shot. Islah jumped on him. I went for the eyes. Islah tried to strangle him. That’s when he slammed her into the wall over and over. I was knocked into the coffee table. He was coming at me with the gun. It was almost over…”

“That’s when Elizabeth got Cinna’s gun,” Islah piped in.

“She shot him, I dunno, three or four times,” Cinna told me. “I took the gun and… finished it. Honestly, her last shot would have done it. But… I didn’t want that on her,” she said, shrugging.

Christ.

I felt like even more of a dick for leaving her alone after that. She’d saved my sister and a fellow capo that I thought of like a sister. She’d shot a man.

And she was alone with strangers, Serano aside. And, well, the fucker wasn’t exactly a comforting guy.

I needed to get back to her.

Seeming to read my mind, Cinna caught my eye. “Why don’t you take Islah home?” she suggested. “Dav is here now. I’m good.”

There was a knock at the door before Dr. Conti came back in. “Cinna, right?” he asked, looking at her.

“Yeah.”

“There are two young men creating a bit of a scene in the waiting room,” he said.

“I’ll bring them back,” Dav said, pressing another kiss to Cinna’s temple before heading out.

The doctor gave Islah the meds and a small bottle of water to take them.

“Anything else?” I asked him.

“Just keep a close eye on her. If anything feels off, take her right to the hospital. Otherwise, you can bring her back in for a check-up in a few days. Then in ten days to remove the staples. Keep them dry for forty-eight hours, then they can tolerate soap and water, just no scrubbing. If the wound looks puffy, pink, or has a discharge, bring her back in.”

“Okay, thanks, Doc,” I said as Dav came in with his and Cinna’s boys, allowing Islah and me to slip away.

“You don’t need to hold onto me like I’m a fragile old lady with a fall risk,” she insisted as I held her forearm as I led her back out of the building, looking both ways before rushing her into the car.

“Do me a favor, lay across the backseat,” I said, paranoid about other possible assassins.

At my condo, there was nothing to worry about. Three of my guys were flanking my building, gazes murderous, ready to take out anyone who looked the slightest bit shifty.

“I don’t have to stay here,” Islah insisted.

“Yes, you do. I need to keep an eye on you.”

“Someone else can,” she said. “You should be taking care of Elizabeth.”

“I can do both,” I assured her.

Though I was secretly glad to open my condo door to find Saff in the living room, the body long gone, but the blood not entirely cleaned up yet.

“Hey, killer,” Saff said, giving Islah a big smile. “How’s the noggin?” she asked, leading Islah over to the couch. “In your bed,” she said to me, giving me a nod.

I didn’t need more encouragement than that.

I rushed down the hall, pausing to knock softly, so I didn’t scare her, before moving inside.

She was where Saff said I would find her, resting on her side on my bed, her eyes open, but her gaze far away. Likely reliving the events of the night. Probably grappling with guilt over a situation that wasn’t her fault.

“Baby,” I called, moving closer, but getting no reaction.

I kicked out of my shoes, laying my gun down on the nightstand, then shrugging out of my jacket before climbing into the bed, reaching for her, turning her, then tucking her against me, her head under my chin.

“Is she okay?” she asked, sounding dangerously close to crying.

“Islah is okay,” I told her, fingers sifting through her hair. “She’s out in the living room with Saff. She’s just got a concussion and some staples.”

“She was acting weird.”

“She was dazed. The doctor said that’s normal,” I told her. “We’re going to keep an eye on her, but he didn’t seem worried.”

“Cinna?”

“Is totally fine too. She’s getting fussed over by four guys right now. It was a graze.”

“He was going to kill her,” Elizabeth said, voice catching.

“I know,” I said, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of her head. “And you stopped him.”

“I had to do something.”

“You did what you had to do. You were really brave.”

To that, she let out a snort.

“I just stood there and watched. Islah jumped on him. She tried to strangle him. I just… stood there.”

“Hey, you can’t compare yourself to Islah or Cinna in this sort of situation. They’ve both been around this for over a decade. They’re more mentally prepared for something like this.”

“I feel like after the last three attempts on my life, I should have been more prepared.”

“You were supposed to be safe here,” I said, giving her body a squeeze. “This was my fault.”

“It was my fault,” she countered.

“It was the fucking senator’s fault,” I concluded.

“That’s true,” she agreed. “And I still haven’t gotten the recording to anyone,” she said. “At this rate, I won’t live long enough to get it done.”

“Nothing like this is going to happen again,” I told her.

“Cinna said it’s more complicated than that. Because the Bratva got so big so fast. And they’re notoriously ruthless.”

“She’s not wrong. But I mean that you are going to be safe. No more just having one guard around. From now on, there will be two guys outside of the apartment, another two in the hallway, and either Cinna or Saff in the apartment with you and Islah.”

“For what?” Elizabeth asked. “Ever?

“If that’s what needs to happen, yeah. But I’m hopeful that once it’s clear you’re no longer working for the senator, and when the senator himself starts to fall from grace, they’re going to just let you be.”

“You really think that’s going to happen?”

Not necessarily.

“Knowing that you’re not under our protection, but that you belong to me, might help,” I told her.

“I belong to you?” she asked, angling her head up to look at me.

“That’s how I’m feeling about things,” I said, nodding. “But it’s obviously up to you.”

“I think I’ve wanted that for a while, but I’ve been worried I’m going to need to leave.”

“You’re not going anywhere. Unless you decide you want to. I’m going to find a way to keep you safe right here for as long as you want to be here.”

“But—“

“I think you have been worrying enough about everything lately,” I cut her off. “How about we think about other things for a while?”

“Like the fact that I’m starving?” she asked, shooting me a guilty look. “I feel like I shouldn’t be hungry after everything that happened today, but…”

“But you’re a human being who hasn’t had anything to eat since breakfast,” I filled in for her. “Besides, I’m sure Serano, Rico, Saff, and Islah are hungry too. Sure I got enough to still make that bolognese, if you want a little distraction.”

“God, yes,” she said, starting to roll away.

Reaching out, I grabbed her, pulling her back onto her back, so I could lean over her, sealing my lips to hers.

It wasn’t a kiss with expectation for more.

Just long, deep, lingering.

Until we both, in unison, broke apart, knowing we needed to put an end to it unless we wanted an audience.

“Islah,” Elizabeth said, rushing toward my sister who was cuddled up on the couch, still awake, but eyes still small with pain. “How are you?” she asked, squatting down in front of the couch, reaching out to put her hand on top of my sister’s.

“I’m okay,” Islah said, weakly. “My head hurts,” she admitted.

“Well, I have a whole arsenal for that,” Elizabeth said, forcing some pep into her words as she rushed back into the guest room, finding one of her bags, and bringing it out with her. “How about we try a cooling sheet?” she asked, pulling out a box, and removing something that was packaged a bit like a bandaid, then flattening it across Islah’s forehead. “These sometimes help my migraines,” she told her.

“That feels good,” Islah said, nodding.

“And I have these nifty green sunglasses that help with light sensitivity,” Elizabeth went on, placing them on the end table since the coffee table was missing. “Earplugs. Don’t underestimate these. They can be a lifesaver,” she said, letting them join the sunglasses.

“Also, ginger and peppermints, for nausea,” she went on. “Scalp massager… probably isn’t a good idea,” she decided, sticking that back in the bag. “But, oh, this,” she said, producing something that was shaped like a sleep mask, but was big and plastic. “This is pure luxe. It massages your forehead and eyes. Just hit this button to turn off the music because that makes it worse.”

Islah took that, careful to put the strap lower so it rested under her staples, then hit the button, and let out a groan of pleasure.

With that, Elizabeth quietly walked away, walking over to the kitchen where Rico and Renzo were still standing, talking to Serano. Saff stayed close to Islah.

“Elizabeth, this is Rico and Renzo. Rico, Renz, this is Elizabeth,” I introduced them, hand going to her lower back when she shifted her feet.

“You saved two of my people tonight,” Renzo said, making the knot loosen in my stomach, some part of me worried he might blame her for the incident.

“Cinna and Islah did most of it,” Elizabeth insisted.

“Way I heard it, you’re the one to take the fucker down,” he said, not knowing her well enough to notice how she stiffened at that. “So I owe you. Which is why I’m gonna fix this fucking Russian shit for you. For good,” he added.

“I can’t ask you—“

“You’re not asking,” Renzo cut her off. “But this shit ain’t gonna happen again. We’re gonna see to it.”

At that, Renzo gave me a hard look that I interpreted to mean he wanted to speak to me.

“Do you mind getting this,” I told Elizabeth, producing my biggest pot, “filled and on the stove for the pasta? I’m just gonna talk to Renzo in the hall for a minute.”

“Of course,” Elizabeth said, nodding as she took it from me.

With that, I followed Renzo and Rico out into the hall, leaving Serano with Elizabeth.

“How can you fix this?” I asked as soon as the door was closed behind us.

“I think it’s time for a sit-down with the Bratva,” Renzo said.

“Renz,” I said, shaking my head.

“I know the risks,” he said, shrugging. “But we can’t go on worrying about what the fuck they’re going to do. Better to come to a mutual agreement than to keep trying to outmaneuver each other.”

It was probably the smart move, as a boss, to make. When you had dozens, if not hundreds—with extended families—counting on you to keep the peace. Still, I didn’t fucking like the idea of having any sort of truce with a bunch of traffickers.

“I get being conflicted. And I’m not saying we have to like it, or even hold up the truce forever. But until we know more, until our numbers grow, it’s best to come to an agreement to mind our own business.”

“They tried to kill Elizabeth several times. They almost killed Islah and Cinna.”

“And one of theirs is locked up. The other is sinking to the bottom of the East River right about now. It’s… even.”

“What are you going to offer them?” I asked, knowing there was no such thing as a truce without one side giving up something to the other.

“I’m gonna give ‘em East New York,” Renzo said, shrugging, naming off one of the most dangerous neighborhoods in Brooklyn.

It was an area where Renzo really made a name for himself early on in his criminal career. Because if you could hold the reins of a rough area like that, there was no way the other neighborhoods were gonna give you a hard time.

It would be a significant loss to him. If not financially, at least sentimentally.

“That’s big,” I said.

“Not if it ensures the safety of my men and women,” he said, having become a lot more diplomatic of a leader as he’s gotten older. Back in the day, we’d have gone in there, guns blazing, and taken all of them out.

But those were different times.

We were different men.

“Let me know when. I’ll be there,” I said.

“Will do,” Renzo said. “Go take care of your girl and sister.”

With that, he and Rico headed out, and two more men appeared in my hallway, both from Rico’s crew.

“Is everything okay?” Elizabeth asked as soon as I walked back into the kitchen.

“Yeah. He just wanted to tell me his plan.”

“You can’t tell me that, right?” she asked.

“Not really, no. But it should work. This will be over.”

“Even when I go to the news and police?”

“Did the senator mention any names in the recording?”

“No.”

“Then, yeah, it should be fine.” The Russians would likely pin the corruption on the man already locked up. Or the one who had oh so conveniently ‘gone missing.’ They’d walk away with barely a scratch.

“Okay,” she said, giving me a small smile.

“So, are you ready for another cooking lesson?” I asked, rolling up my sleeves.