Page 185 of Savage Empire

“Itmeans,” I grunt. “That since he didn’t allow his men to kill you and our unborn child in the name of revenge, I owed him a big fucking favor, Rayna. This is the result of that. Now leave me alone to deal with it, you’re good at that.”

She doesn’t react to the petty dig. “You need a doctor.”

“Doc isn’t close by,” I groan, using the angled pliers to dig deeper.Fuck, this hurts.

“I can’t just watch you fucking dissect yourself,” Rayna cries.

“So, don’t watch.”

“Apollo, please, you’re scaring me.”

“So. Don’t. Watch.”

“Oh thank God,” she exclaims, eyes whipping toward the door. “Please, talk some sense into him. He’s going to hurt himself.”

“There’s a bullet in my shoulder,micina,” I bite out. “Can’t get much more hurt than that.”

“Son,” Dad says with his worried voice. “How long have you been bleeding? When did this happen?”

“Hour and a half,” I rasp, feeling metal hitting metal in my shoulder. “Couldn’t exactly get treated in Chicago when their Capo’s house just exploded.”

Rayna sucks in a sharp breath. “Oh my God.”

Dad comes closer, scanning me with his eyes. “Nico says you’re cut too. Your side?”

“Yep,” I hiss. Sure that I’ve got the right angle and a strong grip, I tug the pliers out of my arm and nearly scream with pain and relief as the compressed bullet leaves my body.

“Oh, I’m going to be sick,” Rayna says, barely suppressing a gag as she finally looks away.

“Fuck.” I drop it onto the counter and shakily pour more rubbing alcohol onto my shoulder and wound. It’s not the ideal disinfectant, but it’ll fucking do in a pinch.

“Why don’t you go upstairs, honey?” Dad suggests softly. “I’ve got him from here. He’ll be okay.”

Looking like she might burst into tears, she nods at him, her lips trembling. Without another word of protest, she practically runs out of the room, clutching her stomach and holding a hand on her heart.

“Dmitri says you need doctor to stitch a bullet wound,” Anatoly suddenly says, entering the room with a small black bag in hand. “I can do for you.”

“You can?” Dad asks in surprise. “You’re sure?”

“My father is doctor,” the big Russian grunts. Of course, we’re already aware of his father’s occupation. He’s the one who told Jade she was pregnant in the first place. “He trains me before I become too big, too valuable as a guard. I know how to stitch.”

“Thank you,” my father tells him. “Please, patch my son up before he bleeds himself out trying to do it himself.”

“I already got the round out of my shoulder,” I huff, nodding to the bloodied bit of metal. “The one in my side was just a graze.”

“But it’ll need to be patched up too,” Dad cuts in.

“I will do both,” the big Russian guard agrees, grabbing a chair to get on my level. He starts in on my arm immediately, quickly assessing it before pulling what he needs out of his pack.

“Rayna has been crying since you left,” Dad says carefully, handing me a bottle of whiskey, the highest proof bottle he can find closeby. “She’s been riddled with guilt, and wouldn’t even let Jade comfort her. You yelled at her?”

“Now is not the time to discuss this.”

“I will not listen,” Anatoly says, unceremoniously rubbing a disinfectant covered cloth over my bullet wound. I pull a hissed breath through my teeth, feeling the tight burn set off my nerves yet again. “You may speak as if I am not here.”

“Fuck,” I growl, taking a hefty swig of whiskey as he begins to stitch me up. The needle feels like it’s on fucking fire. “Might be hard to forget you’re here while you’re stabbing me over and over again.”

“I have faith in you,” he returns, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on his task.