Staring down at the woman I love covered in bruises and blood turns my stomach. In my line of work, I’ve seen some things that would scar a normal man for life, but I’ve never felt more uncomfortable than I do right now. I’ve never felt physically repulsed by the sight of someone’s injuries, and that’s saying something because I’ve watched Tommy skin a man alive on multiple occasions.
Ayvah seems so small in my arms. I never held her enough. But that’s going to change. I’m going to have her against me at every opportunity, even if it means I work with her sitting on my lap. I don’t give a fuck as long as she’s with me. She’s lost weight in the months we were apart, more than I would like and I make a mental note to myself to make sure there’s enough food at the estate when she can come home. My team had cameras in her apartment in Rawdon, but I could never bring myself to watch them.
Tommy brings the car to a stop outside Rayne’s apartment building, and I carefully lift us both from the SUV. Every time I’ve moved since I picked her up, her brows have pulled together and she’s let out a little whine of pain. I don’t want to cause her any more pain than I already have, because that’s the reality. All of this is my fault. I panicked when we got that package and Annalise got to her at the college, when we saw just how much access she had to our lives, and I sent her away. I made her leave despite it hurting us both so much. I never want to cause her another second of pain.
I carry her carefully to the lifts with Tommy and Elijah on my heels. I assume we left our team at the docks to deal with the fallout of the explosion, but honestly, I don’t give a fuck. I don’t care if Annalise dies a fiery death. I don’t care if her entire operation goes up in flames. All I care about is getting Ayvah to safety and getting her to a doctor.
The voice I’ve been trying to ignore for the last couple of days pushes at the edge of my mind. What if we gave this side of the business up? What if we handed it over to someone else, and my family can live safely for the rest of our lives? We can raise our children in peace, without gunfire or over-the-top security. We could go on holidays like normal people and not have to plan for every eventuality if something goes wrong. We could live a normal life.
All three of my siblings are either having a child or are trying for one, and the sooner I have a baby in Ayvah’s belly, the better. Can I really allow us to raise our families in this kind of environment? Where our lives are constantly at risk?
In an ideal world, the Russo and Saint James families run the city and we never have anyone try to overthrow or try to hurt us. But that’s not realistic. When you deal with criminals, you can only expect they may double-cross you at some point.
We’re swarmed with my family when I push the door open. Wynter looks physically ill when she sees the state of Ayvah. Snow covers her mouth with her hand to hide her expression, and even Everett and Rayne look uncomfortable. They’ve each seen their woman hurt, and they know what it’s like to be in my shoes.
“Doc’s in the room you normally stay in,” Rayne tells me.
I nod and carry her through the modern penthouse. It used to be cold and dark, but since Emerson put her flair on the space, it seems lighter. But then again, so is my brother. The man who was always tortured, became whole the day he met her, just the way I did when I met Ayvah.
When I reach the large bedroom, I walk straight to the bed without acknowledging Doc. The man is, and I imagine always will be, the bane of my existence, but there’s no one else I would trust with Ayvah’s health. I carefully lay her out on the edge of the king-size bed on top of the black sheets. She’s still covered in blood, so I imagine I’ll have to replace the bedding, but it’s a small price to pay to have her back where she belongs.
“Jesus,” Doc murmurs as his eyes move over Ayvah’s exposed skin. There isn’t much visible, but what is, isn’t good. Her hands are bloody from where she was trying to escape that asshole’s attack. Her face is black and blue, to the point her eyes are swelling shut, and there are several cuts tracking blood down her perfect face.
I turn to the door and find Emerson hovering there. I nod my head for her to come closer. “Would you mind staying?” I ask as softly as I can manage, but the tension tugging at every one of my limbs makes it hard to hold on to any kind of composure.
“Of course.” She gives me a kind smile and moves to stand by the window. She’ll be the best person for Ayvah to confide in when she wakes up, because while I may have killed the guy we found on top of her, she was missing for a really long time, and I hate to think what they had time to do to my baby girl.
Doc looks at me, his expression pained. “I need you to strip her. I can’t properly assess her with what she’s wearing.”
I close my eyes and let out a breath. If I speak right now, I’m going to snap, and he’s only trying to help. Rationally I know that, but after seeing another man try to force himself on the woman I love, I’m so close to the edge a stiff breeze could push me over.
“I’ll do it,” Emerson says quietly, taking a step forward to stand beside me. Her green eyes shine with unshed tears as she allows me to consider her offer. I should be able to do this myself, but I’m not sure I can be trusted to be gentle right now. Not with how my body vibrates with barely contained anger.
Doc turns without a word and starts pulling items from his bag.
Emerson gives me one last uncertain look before carefully pushing the oversized sweatshirt up Ayvah’s body, uncovering bruising so deep it doesn’t look natural.
“Oh my god,” she whispers as she pushes the fabric up over her breasts. There isn’t a single piece of skin that isn’t in some way bruised. Some are lighter, but most of her torso is deep purple and dark blue. Whatever those assholes did to her must have hurt, and it makes me want to go back to the docks and kill every single person slowly so they’re forced to repent for their sins.
I help Emerson sit her up enough that she can slip the sweatshirt over her head and carefully lay her back down on the pillows. I use the throw blanket at the end of the bed to cover her naked torso while Emerson tugs the sweatpants from Ayvah’s body.
“She’s ready,” Emerson says quietly once I’ve covered her legs with the blanket. It’s not much, but at least it’s something.
It takes Doc half an hour to assess her injuries. She has a few broken ribs, but apart from that, all the bruising is superficial. I’m sure as hell that doesn’t mean it won’t hurt like a bitch, and that’s what I wish I could take away.
He leaves us with a packet of strong painkillers and instructions for her care, but all I can focus on is Ayvah. Her matted brown hair is splayed out across the pillows, her body perfectly still apart from the shallow rise and fall of her chest. She didn’t wake up at all while he was assessing her, and part of me wonders whether that’s for the best.
“He didn’t do a rape kit,” Emerson whispers.
I take a deep breath as the familiar dread that washes over me intermittently crashes into me. “We’ll wait for her to tell us if she thinks anything like that happened, but I didn’t want him to assess it without her consent. He’ll come back if it’s needed.” But I hope to god it’s not. I hope that on top of all her other injuries, she doesn’t have to deal with the emotional trauma of being violated.
Emerson watches me for long seconds, her lips pursed as if she’s trying to decide whether to say something or not. “This isn’t your fault, Storm. I know Wynter has been on you about sending her away, but for what it’s worth, if I were in your position, I probably would have made the same call. Rayne told me about the photos.” She shakes her head and a small smile tugs at her lips. “He had to after he came storming into the Youth Center with a bunch of security guys to install a whole new system and I suddenly had six extra sets of eyes on me at any given time. Your knee-jerk reaction was to protect Ayvah, and the only way you knew how to do that was by sending her somewhere you deemed to be safe.”
“I shouldn’t have let her out of my sight.” I sit back in the chair I’ve dragged beside the bed and drop my head back. “She was safer when she was with me. I could have kept her safe.”
Her head starts shaking before I’m even finished speaking. “If you think Annalise wouldn’t have found a way to get her out of the estate, you’re delusional. Angelo got to me, Charles and Elijah got to you and Wynter, and Annalise managed to grab Wynter and Snow in the only time they left the house. It’s the nature of the industry you’re in.” She shrugs as if it doesn’t bother her, but out of everyone in the family, I know our business wears on her the most. She was brought up in a good household, helping the community her entire life, and to find herself marrying into a mafia family must have been a difficult transition for her to make.
“I should be coordinating the fallout.” I sigh, running my gaze down Ayvah’s still body.
“But you can’t leave her.” She doesn’t pose it as a question because it isn’t one. She knows as well as I do that it will be a long time before I can be in a different room to my woman, and that’s just going to be my new normal, at least for a while.
“Never again.”
