36. Mel

The sound of Gabby's joyful giggle brings me from my deep sleep, and an inexplicable wave of relief washes through me. Despite the throbbing pulse in my temples, I can't help but smile.

I love that sound. It might just be one of the sweetest things in the whole world.

Opening my eyes, it takes me a minute to make sense of my surroundings. Based on the sterile white walls and fluorescent lighting, I'm most definitely not in our room at Kieri's boarding house. And the sharp scent of antiseptic confirms that I must be in a hospital even. I take in the beeping monitor and hospital bed, the chords attached to my arms, and all at once, my aches and pains seem to come to life. I feel like I was run over by a bus.

What happened?

I try to sit up, and as my eyes land on the lithe figure sitting cross-legged on the floor beside my daughter, it all comes flooding back to me. We were on the run. Vinny's men were chasing us in their car, and we started to roll… I must have been knocked unconscious because that's the last thing I remember.

But even as concern for my daughter floods my body, seeing her playing happily with Gleb puts me at ease. I take a moment to watch them together, and it brings tears to my eyes to see how tenderly Gleb interacts with Gabby. The softness of his expression is something I've never seen before.

He's always come across as a fierce protector if not dangerous even, always serious and brooding. But with our daughter, he has a gentle side that warms my heart. It steals my breath away.

And my little girl looks so comfortable with him, entirely trusting as she smiles and giggles in their quiet game.

As if sensing my gaze, Gleb glances up toward me, and his intelligent green eyes meet mine with an intensity that makes my stomach tighten. "Mel."

The single word cues Gabby to turn, and when my daughter sees that I'm awake, she jumps up off the floor and rushes toward me.

"Hi, keiki," I murmur, reaching down to help her up onto the hospital bed with me. But the chords attached to my arms pull me up short, and I hiss as the needles tug against my skin.

Worry marks Gabby's sweet face, but as she hesitates, Gleb scoops her up off the floor and sets her carefully inside the railing of my bed. Gabby's arms wrap around my neck in a tight hug that makes my head throb and my pulse pound in my temples. But it feels so good to have her close, that I wrap my arms around her tiny body and squeeze her close.

"Hi, sweet girl. Are you hurt?" I murmur.

"I'm okay." Gabby pulls back to study my face gravely. "Mama hurt?"

"I'm fine now, keiki," I assure her, running a finger down her soft cheek and around the curve of her chin. Then my eyes shift to Gleb as Gabby snuggles beneath my throat. "How long have I been here?"

"Three days. You hit your head pretty hard. Doc said you went into a coma."

"That explains why it's throbbing," I quip, placing my palm on the tender spot and finding a square bandage taped in place. A hiss rushes through my teeth as the pressure sends a stabbing pain through my temple.

"I'll go get the doctor," Gleb says, turning toward the door.

"No, wait," I insist, my heart rate increasing. The monitor gives me away, and Gleb glances toward it as the beeps grow more persistent.

"Okay. I'm here," he assures me, stepping closer to grip the railing on my bed.

"You took care of Gabby all that time?" I ask, my voice starting to tremble as I think of everything he's done for me.

"Of course," he assures me. "The hospital brought in a cot for her so we could be here when you woke. I… didn't want to leave you alone in case Vinny's men came looking for you."

It brings tears to my eyes to know that Gleb not only saved me once again but took such good care of our child when I couldn't. Despite how horribly I left things between us the last time I saw him, he dropped everything to come down and help me.

He risked his life to keep us safe.

I'm overwhelmed by his selflessness.

Reaching over, I place my hand on top of his, and his eyes shift down to the touch.

Heat radiates in my cheeks as I wonder whether the gesture is too intimate, but I'm so grateful for him right now that I just can't help myself. "Thank you," I murmur.

Gleb's free hand covers mine, his eyes soft. "You don't have to thank me," he says.

"No, I do. You didn't have to come, but you did. You helped both of us out of a horrible situation, and I don't think I could have done it without you."

The hint of a smile curls one corner of his lips. "I'm confident you would have." His eyes shift to Gabby, indicating that he knows without saying that I would do anything for my little girl.

I squeeze her a little tighter at his meaningful look, and when she squeezes back, it sends a lancing pain through my temples. I close my eyes, swallowing hard to fight through the pain, and when I open my eyes again, Gleb is watching me with wordless understanding.

"I really should go get the doctor. They can help ease the pain."

Licking my lips, I nod and take deep breaths to keep my anxiety at bay.

"I won't be gone long," he adds, as if sensing my tension.

"Thanks."

Gleb gives me fingers a gentle squeeze, then strides lithely from the room.

I watch him go, my heart thrumming as I take the moment alone with Gabby to consider the situation we're in. It was one thing to keep the truth about our daughter a secret from Gleb when I didn't think he was going to be in our lives.

But now, he's gone out of his way to help us, to bring us back to New York with him.

And I'm starting to wonder if I shouldn't put my trust in him, to tell him that he's Gabby's father. He deserves to know. And after seeing them together, I can't deny that he would be good to her.

She deserves to have that.

And so does he.

But then I would have to confess to keeping it a secret all this time, and I don't know exactly where Gleb and I stand right now. He very well could want to keep more space between us after everything that's happened.

And what if he finds out and doesn't want Gabby?He could leave us stranded halfway to safety if the idea freaked him out enough.

Perhaps it would be better to wait and see how things play out.

At this point, I don't think waiting a little longer will hurt anyone. But letting the cat out of the bag too soon could wind up ruining everything and maybe even hurting Gabby.

Which is the last thing I want to do.

"Did you have a nice time with Gleb?" I ask Gabby, stroking her soft head of hair.

Gabby nods. "He's funny," she says.

That'sa first.

I would describe Gleb as many things, but funny would not be a word that comes to mind. He's always seemed so serious and… well, lethal is really the only way I can describe the aura that surrounds him.

But my little girl thinks he's funny?That makes me smile.

"Do you want to tell me about anything that happened while I was… asleep?" I ask. My concern for the trauma Gabby might have endured comes to the forefront of my mind now that I'm confident she's physically okay.

Gabby sits up and shrugs, like she's not quite sure what I'm asking.

"Were you scared when our car crashed?" I urge gently.

She nods gravely, her thumb sliding into her mouth. And because she's been through a lot, I let her keep it.

"Did you get hurt?"

She shakes her head no. "Too much spinning," she describes around her thumb.

I nod. "What happened when the spinning stopped?"

"Geb let me free. He carried me and Mama to the trees." Gabby frowns and removes her thumb from her mouth, wiping the spit on her shirt. Then she tucks herself beneath my chin once more, seeming to be tired of my line of questioning.

And because I don't want to push her too far, I hold her close and rub her back.

Still, I love the way she tries to pronounce Gleb's name but doesn't quite have it yet.

"You're such a brave little girl," I murmur and press a kiss to the crown of her head.

A soft knock on the door draws my eyes toward it, and a moment later, the doctor steps in, Gleb close behind him. Green eyes find mine, making my heart skip a beat, and I turn my attention back to the white lab coat to ensure I don't send the heart monitor into a tizzy.

In his late thirties, the blond doctor has square wire-rimmed glasses that make him look bookish. The way he's parted his medium-length hair to one side and slicked it back with product adds to the professional, if-not-nerdy style, and he gives me a kind smile as our eyes meet.

"Miss O'Mara, My name is Dr. Heinz. I'm happy to see you're awake. How are you feeling today?"

"Fine," I say. But when Gleb gives me a severe look, I add, "I do have a bit of a headache."

Nodding, Dr. Heinz pulls a penlight from his pocket and comes to stand on the side of the bed that Gabby's not occupying. "Let's take a look, shall we?"

Nodding, I try to keep myself from blinking as he lifts one of my lids, then the other, and shines the light into my pupils. Then, he transitions to checking my vitals.

"Well, Miss O'Mara, it looks like you're recovering nicely," he states when his exam is done. "You suffered a pretty impressive concussion where you bumped your head." He points to the gauze taped over my temple. "Don't be surprised if you feel a bit lightheaded or confused over the next day or so."

I nod, then cringe as my head throbs.

"I'm prescribing lots of rest and relaxation. Sleep as much as your body tells you to. The stitches should dissolve naturally within a few weeks, and if you apply regular antibiotic ointment on it, you'll get minimal scarring."

"Does that mean I can go home?" I ask, relief flooding me as my eyes shift to Gleb for confirmation. My heart skips a beat to see his green eyes watching me intently, and I look back at the doctor before the heart monitor goes berserk.

"With your level of improvement, that should be fine. If your head continues to hurt, you can take another dose of acetaminophen—not ibuprofen—up to every four hours."

"Okay."

"But if any of your symptoms get worse, you need to seek immediate medical attention. Your husband here says you were on your way home to New York when you got in the accident?"

The word husband knocks the wind from my lungs, and I gape at the doctor for a moment before realizing that would only draw unwanted attention. Attempting to recover quickly, I pull my lips into a smile and answer, "Mm-hmm."

But with the heat that pools in my belly, I don't trust myself to use words. I scarcely hear the doctor's next directions as I wrap my mind around the thought of being married to Gleb. It sends an unexpected wave of giddiness to my stomach, releasing butterflies. The heart monitor grows more persistent, but thankfully, the doctor doesn't seem to notice as he finishes his instructions.

"Well then, it's perfectly fine to seek your local professional if you need to, but do so if the concussion symptoms—headaches, nausea, dizziness, confusion—continue for longer than a week. You may need further testing." Dr. Heinz finishes his explanation as he scribbles notes on my chart. Then he gives us each a nod. "The nurse will be in shortly to give you a dose of acetaminophen and help you on your way."

"Thank you, Doctor," Gleb says, rising to shake his hand before Dr. Heinz departs.