I feel dizzy. Right on cue, Yulian’s hand finds my shoulder. I find myself leaning into the touch before I realize it’s supposed to steady me. Like, in case I’m about to faint.
“Does the sight of blood bother you?”
Suddenly, I feel the hysterical urge to laugh. “No, no. I’m a nurse. I—I’m used to it. It’s just…” My eyes travel down the stained silk. Just like that, the urge to laugh morphs into an urge to cry hysterically instead. “I ruined your dress.”
“Technically, it’syourdress.” Yulian’s lips quirk slightly. “You get to keep it, remember?”
That almost-smile—it makes me feel warm inside. Way warmer than I have any right to feel after a night like this.
“Right.”
“Though I’d advise getting it dry-cleaned.”
That manages to drag a small smile out of me, too. “That’s probably a good idea.”
With that, Yulian shepherds me into the diner. I’m surprised by how gentle his demeanor has turned. When he puts his hand on the small of my back now, I don’t even think of batting it away.
In the course of a few horrifying hours, he’s gone from pain in my ass, to downright rude, to emotionless, to savior I didn’t know I needed—and now, to comfort I didn’t know I was going to need to depend on.
It’s been a roller coaster, to say the least.
The diner is, as promised, empty. “Get changed,” Yulian says. “I’ll get us something.”
The authority in his tone propels me into motion. My feet, frozen until moments ago, start moving again on their own. Like they were waiting for him to tell me what to do.
I duck into the bathroom and disappear behind the sliding door.
I go through the motions without looking in the mirror. I don’t think I could take it—seeing the full extent of the damage.
Not because of the dress, but because of what it means.
All the people I didn’t get to save.
Some nurse I am.
I hold no delusions, though. Those gunshots were professional work. Straight to the head. I couldn’t have saved anyone, not even if I’d sprung right into action.
And yet, the images of those bodies dropping in the night… that will haunt me as long as I live.
But I’ve seen my fair share of horrors, too. I’ve seen people die. It comes with the territory of being an E.R. nurse—not knowing when death will strike.
Maybe that’s why I’m back to myself so soon: death is no stranger to me.
And neither is Brad.
Brad.When we rushed out of the chapel, I saw him crouched under the pulpit, taking cover in the safest spot of all.
For one second, our eyes met.
I knew, then, that he’d survive.
There’s no doubt in my mind even now. Brad is alive. Untouched, unscathed—and coming for me.
He knows my name now. He knows I’m in New York. How long will it take him to find out the rest?
Where I work? Where I live?
How long will it take him to find out about Eli?
