“Trust is an illusion they sell to little girls who haven’t yet experienced the cruelty of the world.” Maxine’s dark gaze swept over Brenna, a force filled with darkness and grief, and yet, her red lips still curled into the type of smile that made me shiver.
“We’ll have to agree to disagree.” Brenna flicked her auburn hair over her shoulder in a move that seemed as natural as breathing.
“I’ll remind you of that when you’re preparing all your marriage rituals leading up to your wedding day.” This time Maxine’s voice was solemn, weighted with warning.
“Do you have to be such a killjoy, Max?” Zoey emerged from the bathroom, changed and ready to head down to the common room.
I shook away the memory as I tried to recall exactly what rituals I could incorporate into a wedding. It had never been something I had ever considered - had always assumed that I would be forced to accept the likes of someone like Andrew, making such rituals obsolete when it came to me. But with Dimitri as a prospect - with him all but laying down his intentions to my parents, such rituals shifted from something that was once a fanciful thought, hardening into something that I could physically create.
Bile rose up from within, swifter this time, and as I swallowed back the bitterness, my thoughts settled like a lead weight onto Dimitri.
He was fine - right? Why did I feel as if he wasn’t okay? That something wasn’t right?
Without thought, I reached for my cards, seeking some sort of reassurance.
Before I could even draw the first card, the sound of a door unlocking rang through the house, and I had never thought that one sound could bring forth so much dread. My bare feet dragged across the plush carpet as I pushed myself out of the room towards the front door - towards him. Once I saw him - saw that he was okay, I would be able to breathe easier.
Ravi and Dimitri’s driver stood in the doorway with Dimitri slumped between them. Ravi swayed on his feet, but I was there in a heartbeat, searching Dimitri for wounds - for some sort of explanation. Every thought eddied out of my mind as I remembered my conversation with Charl from just a few hours ago. Keep them safe. I had failed before I could even grasp the instruction. Ravi seemed to struggle to pull his phone out of his chino pocket and I dived for it, releasing the device.
“Who do I need to call?” My voice sounded panicked to my ears, but I didn’t care - didn’t have time to wrangle my emotions into check.
“Don’t tell Dimitri that you fished my phone out my pocket - too close to my dick - don’t want to die.” Ravi’s words were a slur of nonsense. I didn’t have time for this shit.
“Who do I need to call, Ravi?” I pressed once more.
“Doc.” He slurred and as I glanced down, I noticed that his forearm was soaked in blood. Fuck. “Benson.” Ravi spat the name out a moment before he slumped forwards. Suddenly, it was only myself and the driver holding the two men up. We shuffled them awkwardly into the lounge, and as we lay them out on the brown oxford leather couch that I was so fond of, I had to fight the urge to ignore Ravi entirely and only check on Dimitri.
Once they were settled, I scrolled through Ravi’s contacts, finally coming across one that was named Doc Benson. At least one thing was going right for me.
My hands shook as I dialled the good doctor, needing someone else here to help me with this. Who ran the Bratva if Dimitri was down? Who was his second in command? Fuck - I should know this. I thought it was Ravi, but I wasn’t certain.
“Ravi.” The voice that answered the phone spoke in a brisk smooth tone, and for a heartbeat, I didn’t know what to say. I shouldn’t be the one dealing with this. My eyes fell onto Dimitri’s still frame, and I shook myself into motion.
“Hi, I’m Corinne - I’m Dimitri’s…” I trailed off. What was I to Dimitri? Girlfriend? Fiancé?
“Vedman,” I finished lamely.
“You need me to come there?” Doctor Benson thankfully seemed to know the drill, and didn’t ask too many questions.
“Yes, please.” The relief in my voice must have been evident because before he hung up, he asked the question I dreaded.
“How bad?”
“Bad.” My voice cracked on the answer as I fought the tears building beneath my lids. My entire soul ached as I hung up, and seated myself between Ravi and Dimitri. Even in this state, I needed to look at him - needed to make sure that he was still here. I’d feel it if he died - wouldn’t I?
The driver left me to deal with Dimitri and Ravi as he returned to his post, and I knew that Dimitri wouldn’t have it any other way.
Sniffling, I slid my hands beneath his shirt, searching for a wound - there had to be a wound for him to be out of it. Was he shot? Burnt? Bombed? I didn’t know - and in the panic of it all, I forgot to ask.
With shaking fingers, I unbuttoned his shirt only to be met with his defined chest and abs upon abs. It was unnatural how well built he was. And even as he lay motionless, I shivered at the memory of what it felt like to have him hovering above me - to have him inside of me.
But now was not the time.
My fingertips danced along his chest as I searched for a wound that was perhaps not visible to the eye. An angry dark bruise blossomed close to his ribs, and I wondered if he was perhaps attacked?
Unable to find anything that would provide me with any kind of clue as to what actually happened, I moved onto Ravi, removing his shirt in a far more clinical fashion than I had Dimitri’s.
A long gash ran jaggedly across his forearm all the way up towards his bicep. I didn’t know enough about dressing wounds, and with the doc on the way, I didn’t want to risk doing something that Benson would only undo moments later.