The Master (39 page)

His breath shuddered from his lungs. “Did you know that your name means . . .
light?
”

Light. Sun. I was his sun, and he was my Russian. He’d taken a bullet for me. He’d never booked Ivanna. He loved me.

Máxim rested his forehead against mine, rocking me in his arms. “I’m begging you not to leave me, Lucía.”

Needed to tell him . . . “
Te quiero tanto, Máxim.
I love you so much.”

Those black dots swarmed again. The last thing I heard was his anguished roar.

B
eeping sounds. The smell of disinfectant. Hushed tones.

In some hazy twilight, I knew I was in a hospital. I heard Máxim’s voice, and others’ as well.

Over what felt like days, conversations filtered through my mind to the beat of a heart monitor. I clung to threads.

In one, Aleks was angry with his brother: “We had to fucking hear about this from Vasili?” Aleks and Natalie had come here? They’d left their honeymoon?

In another, Natalie had asked Máxim, “Is your chest going to be okay?”

“Thanks to Lucía.”
He’s out of danger, gracias a Dios.
“That fuck actually had a bead on my forehead.”
And Máxim had kept charging
forward??

In another thread, he told them about his fight with me, ending with: “This is all my fault. When I thought she would leave me for another . . . I imagined life without her, and I lost my
fucking mind. Couldn’t think or see reason.” He asked Aleks, “Did you know jealousy before you met Natalie?”

“Maks, I didn’t know
anything.
”

One time, I’d heard Máxim outside the room in a heated conversation with someone. Inside, Aleks had asked Natalie, “Why do these things keep happening to our
family?”

“Oh, no, no. The Sevastyans do not get to shoulder this one. Cat—Lucía—never would’ve met Maksim if she hadn’t already been in danger. And I jeopardized
myself
when I searched for my birth parents. When she pulls through, everything will be better.”

Whenever Máxim was alone, he pleaded for me to wake up, promising me that I was safe. “You lost a lot of blood, but you’ve already started healing. When you wake up,
you’ll be as good as new. Please come back to me, Lucía. . . .”

He also took the blame for everything: “You told me ‘don’t do this,’ but I kept hurting you. I drove you away.” Now I sensed he was beside me, alone. I could feel
his warmth, even before he took my hand in both of his.

He sat on the edge of my bed with a ragged exhalation. “
Solnyshko,
you must wake. It’s been four days.”

En serio? I’m here!
I could hear him perfectly, but I couldn’t speak. Or move. How frustrating! Why couldn’t I clasp his hand?

Voice thick, he began talking, about everything and nothing. He described the weather and wondered aloud what kind of dog I would like. He talked about trips we would take to fill up my
passport. He relayed how awful Vasili felt for his suspicions about me.

I wished I could tell Máxim that I would take the ugliest mutt I could find out of the pound, one with street cred, one no one else would bring home. I’d like to see Cuba and
Russia. I wished I could tell him that I understood and appreciated Vasili’s concern. I’d had no identity, could’ve been preying on Máxim. All the man had wanted to do was
look out for “boss.”

How could I fault him for that? When I wanted to as well?

Máxim continued, “How will you forgive me? Anything I could possibly do wrong, I did.”

You took a bullet for me, Ruso!

“You can do anything now. You’ll have your life back. You’re so young, and you wanted your freedom. If you choose to leave me, how will I let you go? I couldn’t
before.”

I wouldn’t choose to! I needed to tell Máxim that we could work through this, that I was ready to do the heavy lifting in our relationship—but I couldn’t even lift my
lids.

“Will you please wake for me?” He raised my hand to press my palm against his face, as if he were starved for my touch. Stubble covered his jaw. Was his cheek damp? “Better
things await you, Lucía.”

I was ready for him. I wanted my Russian. I wanted to claim my name again and start a brand-new life. If I could just wake up. I fought to lift my lids.

The heart monitor began to speed up.

Beep . . . . . . Beep . . . . . Beep . . . . Beep . . . Beep

I felt my free hand clench the sheet. Hey! That was new.

Beep . . Beep . . Beep . . Beep . . Beep . . Beep

He exhaled a gust of breath. “Are you about to wake? Come back to me! You can do this!”

If I could move, maybe I could talk now. I struggled to grate out, “
Máxim.
”

His hands clenched mine as he snapped,
“STAY AWAKE!”
then he bellowed for a nurse. To me, he said, “Keep talking! Please, Lucía!”

I cracked open my eyes. Once I got used to the brightness and could focus, I gasped at his appearance. He hadn’t shaved in days, and his hair was a mess. His eyes were so red, the blue of
his irises appeared indigo. His suit was rumpled, his shirt collar unbuttoned. I could see the edge of his bandage.

“You look like hell.” My voice was scratchy.

That made him smile. He raised my hand to his stubbled jaw. “Good of you to notice.” His eyes were glinting.

Damn, I loved this man. “What happened?”

“The blade missed everything major, but you lost too much blood. You went into shock. After surgery, you didn’t wake up.”

Surgery? I glanced down, saw the edge of my own bandage peeking out from a hospital gown. “Are
you
okay? When you were shot . . .”

“I’m fine now. It will take more than a bullet to keep me from you.”

My voice was weak and my throat felt like it was on fire, but I still teased, “Do you like me when I pull through?”

He laughed without humor. “I
love
you when you pull through. Everything’s going to be better now.”

“Edward’s dead?”

“You’re a widow. You’re free.” The door opened behind him. “They’ll need to check you, now that you’re awake.”

A doctor came in, also rumpled. Behind his glasses, his eyes were bloodshot too. He warily glanced at my Russian. The man swallowed, then told me, “I am very,
very
relieved that
you’re better.” He sounded Australian.

Had Máxim been scaring people? He reluctantly let go of my hand.

The doc fussed over me, a nurse too, but my eyes only wanted to look at Máxim. He had his gaze locked on me, even as he called Aleks and Natalie.

I heard her squeal on the phone.

The doc said something about my vitals looking good, but I’d probably get sleepy and that was okay. “You’re fortunate,” he told me. “A hair’s width to the
left and we would not be having this conversation.”

Once we were alone again, Máxim sat beside me on the bed.

“Did you scare that poor doctor,
Ruso
?”

“A bit. He didn’t want to travel here from Australia. At least not at first,” he added darkly.

“You brought in someone from across the world?”

“Of course. I wanted a second opinion on your surgery, and he is the best.” He hiked his shoulders, stifling a wince. “Aleks and Natalie are coming right over. They’d
gone to the hotel to change. They’ve been here each day.”

“They don’t have to return. I can’t believe they left their honeymoon.”

“They want to make sure you’re okay. You have friends who care very much about you. Jess would be here as well, but we’ve kept your location secret for your protection. That
one is chaos embodied, no?”

“They all know what happened?” So strange. My marriage to a murderer had been my burden. Now, out in the world. “I can’t believe Edward’s dead.”

“He was married six times.” In a grave tone, Máxim said, “Lucía, you are the only one to survive him.”

“S-six?” If my race hadn’t been canceled, would I have been his next victim? “Have the cops been here? When will I have to talk to someone?” I dreaded having to
spill the entire story, to dredge up so many painful memories.

“Talk about what, love? Edward Hatcher was found shot in a public restroom in Atlantic City. A drug deal gone wrong.”

My lips formed an O. “No one heard the shots on campus?”

“Few people were there on New Year’s Eve, and the storm brought a lot of thunder. We left quickly afterward.”

“Why Atlantic City?”

“He lived there for a while, and I didn’t want him connected to Miami, in case you wish to stay here. I burned to punish him for hurting you, but if he were found tortured, there
would be even more questions.” Máxim’s gaze grew even more intense. “He wouldn’t have been found at all, but . . . I wanted to make you a widow.”

I swallowed. So Máxim could marry me? “I’m Lucía Martinez again?” My eyes watered.

“Yes, love. Now you have nothing to worry about except getting better.”

“There’s a case, Máxim. It’s in a safety deposit box—”

“It’s already been collected.”

“How did you know?”

“Before Hatcher died, he confessed to things.”

They’d taken him alive. I thought back over that crazed car ride. Had something thumped in the trunk?

The trunk of the Russian mobster’s Bentley.

Máxim said, “He admitted to profiling you for months before he ever approached you. He knew everything about you.”

He had? “No wonder we had so much in common.”

“Hatcher also recently
signed
things. You own your home again, and we’ve recovered about half of your money, with more to follow. If you want to make his actions public in the
future, you can, at your own pace. But nothing can hinder your recovery.”

“How did you access the box at the bank?”

Máxim appeared somewhat affronted, raising his brows as if to say
honey, please.
I suppose he knew the type of guys who could’ve gotten into the Pentagon if I’d needed
them to.

“What about Julia’s death?”

“She’ll never be found. That often happens to women in Hatcher’s presence. He was wanted for murder in other states, but you’ve kept him so busy, he hasn’t been
able to target another. I can’t find evidence of more crimes.”

That made me feel better. But still . . . “He was a monster, and I invited him into our lives. Now
your
life. You were shot.”

“A predator picked you. He studied you. You were a teenager. As for myself, I deserved nothing less.” He raked the fingers of his free hand through his hair. “I fucked up at
every turn, and you lie here because of it. You almost . . . you nearly died.” He visibly shuddered.

I couldn’t stand to see the guilt in his eyes. “I guess we could blame ourselves. I have an idea—let’s blame him.” I was starting to get sleepy.

“We could do that. We have time to discuss all this. You already look tired, love.”

“If I’m going to be out, you could go to the hotel and rest.”

“Not a chance.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I’ll watch over you. Right now, just concentrate on getting better.”

“Then what happens? I need to know something before I pass out.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Whatever you wish to happen will. I’ll see to it.” I read a question in his gaze. Was I keeping him?

“What are my choices? I like things settled,
Ruso.
”

“You know what I want from you.”

I bit my lip at the fierceness in his expression. “You want everything?”

A slow nod. “Everything.” The man was a
goner.
Done for.
Terminado.

“What if you get jealous again? And stop talking to me?”

In a hoarse voice, he said, “I have learned—in the harshest possible way—to talk to you. I want to spend my life making up for the way I treated you. But I won’t rush
your decision. For now, you need to rest and heal so you can go home.”

I couldn’t stifle a yawn. “Home?” In Jacksonville? I didn’t want to go there, not for a while. Not until the pain had faded more.

“You have a brand new house in Miami,
moyo solnyshko.
It has spices in need of organizing. When you’re better, you’ll have a discerning dog. And I’ll bribe him to
like me.”

He got me a Miami house? “Is my place big enough for me and my dog and even you?”

“Indeed.”

I yawned again. “You wanna share it with us?”

He swallowed. “Are you certain? You have your freedom now. You’re young and wealthy and can do anything—can
have
anything—in this world.”

I was drifting off. “I want my Russian. Come live with me and the scrappy mutt we pick out at the pound.
Mi casa es su casa.
”

“Ah, my Lucía wants a scrappy mutt. I should’ve known you’d prefer a dog who’s been on the run.” As I drifted off, I heard him say, “I’ll live
with you, then. Until I can convince you to marry me. . . .”