he’d surrendered to his friend’s plea to not take the risk. Who had done this?
Coincidence? Only idiots believed in them and Kristof hadn’t ever been an idiot. The only person who’d known he was there other than those with him were Maksim and Father.
Father wouldn’t kill Ivan, though. The bastard had been the pin squishing Kristof into place for four years.
Who the hell was behind this? Who else had known about the meeting?
Gavriil knew.
No. The man wouldn’t ever betray him.
“A man showed up with some of your men half an hour ago,” she said as she approached. “I’m working on getting some pain medication here.”
“Where’s Gavriil?”
“He left.” Addy looked down at him. Suspicion crawled across her gaze, followed by a fiery glint he recognized. Anger. “No arteries or bones were hit. The protective lining of the jacket you always wear slowed the bullet down and limited the damage done when it struck. You were lucky.”
“This wasn’t luck.” It was skill. Or a freak accident. Kristof bit off the retort in his throat. “Did they find who shot me?”
“No. They got away.” Addy crossed her arms. “Zoey and Jesse are going to have questions.”
Kristof nodded. He expected as much. “Thank you.”
He sat up in the bed, then swung his legs until he faced Addy. Dizziness assailed him.
“Don’t thank me.” She grasped his hair and yanked until their gazed locked. “What aren’t you telling us? Who hit you?”
“I don’t know. Rumors will circulate soon enough. Multiple people will take credit.” He sighed. “This wasn’t the first attempt and won’t be the last.”
“Ivan’s dead.” Addy maintained her grip on his hair. “He was struck first. Then you. Zoey thinks it’s because he was in the shooter’s way, but Jesse doesn’t agree.”
“Does it matter? Ivan’s dead. We can’t bring him back.” Kristof looked about the room but didn’t see his blazer. “Where’s my phone?”
“Zoey has it.”
“Why?” He shook off her contact and stood. Dizziness once again assailed him, but he remained standing.
“It was with everything else we gathered from the scene. Lay your ass back down or I’ll knock you out.”
That was a problem. Kristof glanced down at the bandages on the bedside table. He needed to find Maksim. His men would want direction and assurance.
Kristof also needed to contact his Father. Would he admit it was him if he was behind it? If he wasn’t, he’d likely find out who was faster than anyone.
“Sit before your stupid ass falls down.” Addy repeated her previous order and shoved downward on his good shoulder as she reached for the supplies. “I was about to change your dressing. The facility wasn’t happy when we insisted you leave.”
“Which one?”
“I don’t know. It was near Gavriil’s club. He arranged it.”
Good. If it was near the club, it was likely one he used often and trusted—which meant Kristof’s father wouldn’t have access to it or the treatment that’d been done.
His pulse quickened. The swipes along his skin were slow, methodical, and feathery as she removed the bandage. “You always had gentle hands.”
“Don’t.” Her gaze narrowed.
Right. They weren’t alone. They were never alone thanks to the damn com she always wore. She’d turned it off once during the last mission, but she wouldn’t ever again. Not after the epically shitty way he’d reacted.
Memories of the ride to the hospital flickered within his brain. Her melodic, throaty hum as she’d tended him. He swallowed as the song looped in his mind. “You remembered. The song.”
She froze a second. Her sexy green gaze flared wide, then narrowed. “It was nothing. It just came to me.”
“My mother used to sing it to me whenever I was scared.” Why had he shared that? Because she’d remembered and comforted him. She’d cared. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. You’re taking this better than we expected,” she said. “You either suspected an attempt or had already had one before we arrived. You should’ve told us.”
Yet another reminder of why he couldn’t ever lose control around the woman. She never missed a detail. He couldn’t afford for her to see the truth shrouded within the intricate lies he’d woven for years.
“This wasn’t the first time.” The half-truth slid out easily enough. He’d had more than a few attempts made on him over the past couple of decades, but none had been recent.
“How many?”
“I lost count.”
“Yet you continue selling and buying anything and anyone of value. Is the money really worth the risks?” Sadness and disappointment echoed within her words and in her green eyes.
“It’s never been about the money.”