“Did you hear what I said to you in there?” I demand. “Everything I said to Tigran was a fucking ruse. I did it to protect you, and then I assembled an army to rescue you. You don’t get to walk away.”
“I appreciate it, I do,” she says. “But I have to go home now. I can’t cope with this anymore.”
“It’s not safe,” I snap. “We’re not discussing this any further right now; it’s hardly the time or the place.” I throw a pointed glance at the paramedic.
She shuts up, but her expression is stubborn, and I know she’ll be mulling over all the reasons she thinks she gets to go home in her pretty little head. It’s irrelevant because she’s staying with me.
We arrive at the hospital, and she gets whisked away.
I take a seat in that damn soul-destroying, waiting room, and I wait. At some point Liam, Luka, and Ethan all turn up and take seats dotted around. Andrius must have come in one of the other ambulances because he appears out of the back area an hour later, and his eyes are already darkening. Shit, I’ve fucked his face up good and proper. Reece is still being seen to.
He sits next to me and gives me a livid look. “Don’t need a nose job,” he says in English. “They re-set it with local anesthetic.” He’s talking as if he’s got a raging cold, probably due to the cotton wool stuffed in his nostrils.
Ethan bursts out laughing.
“What’s so fucking funny?” Andrius demands.
“Nothing, just you crying about your nose. Big hard, Spetsnaz, best training in the world. Yeah right. You wouldn’t get us boys crying over a broken bone, eh lads?” He looks to the men around him.
“You want me to break your nose, so we can find out for sure?” Andrius offers sweetly.
Silence.
“Yeah, didn’t think so.”
Ethan huffs and stands, stretching. “I’m going to call Isla. Anyone want anything to eat or drink? I’ll pass the canteen on my way back.”
“Coke,” I say.
“Me too,” Andrius says. “Diet.”
“Watching your figure, now your pretty face is ruined?”
Ethan dodges out of the way of the half-assed kick Andrius aims his way.
When he’s gone, Andrius turns to me. “His wife, Isla, she is very much like my Violet. You will maybe meet her one day, but she’s got a similar look to her, and she’s also sweet the same way. She’s young too, like Violet. Like Cassie,” he adds, and I don’t get what he’s trying to say.
“He’s a dick,” he adds. “Moody, but he takes care of Isla.”
“Are you saying I don’t take care of Cassie?” I ask, anger simmering at his words.
“I’m saying, maybe you need to decide if you want to take care of her, and for how long, and what that means.”
“I don’t get what you’re trying to say.”
“Yeah, you do,” he replies. “Don’t make this turn into some women’s chat where we go on about our feelings for three hours.”
“Well, she hates me, so it’s irrelevant.”
He chuckles at that and switches to Russian, still keeping his voice low. “Do you know what Ethan did for a living when he met Isla?”
“No.”
“He was a whore.”
“What?”
“Yes. Isla hated it, hated him, from what they’ve told me since. But they got over it, and now they are very happy. Too many dogs, if you ask me, but they’re happy. Liam, he met his lady when he was supposedly spying on her. He followed her, stalked her is more apt, and she hated him too. Now they are very happy. Both of them had to decide what they wanted, though, as did I with Violet.”
“What the fuck are you trying to say?”
He sighs and faces me. “You can’t simply keep Cassie like a pet. You either let her go, or accept you feel something for her.”
“You sound ridiculous,” I snap. “Shut up with the life advice crap; it doesn’t suit you. The only feeling I have for Cassie is my responsibility to keep her safe, and the way my cock feels about her.”
Andrius has the gall to look disappointed in me, before he shrugs and gets his phone out.
Fuck him. Who does he think he is doling out life advice? He got given his precious Violet, like a box of chocolates, so he doesn’t get to tell me what to do.