A warm hand tugs me out of a dreamless state, but my eyes refuse to open and my body won’t move no matter how hard I try to force it. Unfamiliar sounds fill my head, beeping, voices through a speaker, something heavy being wheeled down what seems to be a never-ending hallway.
Where the hell am I? And why does my throat feel like the desert?
The hand that holds mine squeezes, the warmth they omit is familiar, but my disorientated mind can’t muddle through to who it is.
I force my body to take a deep breath, and it gets caught in my throat when the pain hits me. So much pain that it forces my eyes open and I’m immediately blinded by blaring lights. Jesus Christ, this room is lit up brighter than a Christmas tree. The scent of disinfectant assaults me and the pieces finally start to click together as to where I am. Hospital.
“Snowflake?” a voice rumbles from beside me, and I immediately turn my head to face them. My head protests and stars dance in my field of vision, blinding me for long seconds. Fingers brush down my cheek and when my eyes finally focus, Elijah is staring back at me, worry clear in his gaze. “Thank God you’re awake.”
“What happened?” I croak. My throat feels like I’ve just been on a three-day bender and finally allowed myself to sober up.
“You don’t remember?” he asks, his eyes searching the table beside him before bringing a cup with a straw to my lips.
I drink greedily, the water slipping down my dry throat and through to my tender stomach. I shake my head as I continue to drink, not willing to give up the water to speak.
“You were shot.” He flinches at his own words, something dark crossing his face before he pulls the straw from between my lips. “That’s enough, I don’t want it to upset your stomach.” His words are softer than any he’s ever spoken to me, and I find myself craving the darkness he usually exudes.
My brows pinch together as memories crash into me. The church. Our wedding. The gunmen. The explosions. It all hits me all at once and takes my breath away.
“Snow?” The concern in his voice is evident, but I can’t tear myself away from the images assaulting me one after another. His fingers brush down my cheek and carefully brings me to face him. “Come back to me.”
It’s only now I realize my breaths are coming in hard and fast, panic washing over me like waves in the ocean and threatening to drag me out to sea. It’s all too much, and the memories mixed with the pain is too much for me to handle.
“Snow,” he commands, and my eyes snap to his, his demanding tone getting my attention and pausing the panic in its tracks. He gives me a satisfied smirk and leans his face until it’s just a breath from my own. “That’s better. I need you to stay calm for me, Snowflake. You had to have fairly extensive surgery, and I don’t want you to hurt yourself any more than you already have.”
“Surgery?” I croak.
He nods, his eyes closing for a moment as he releases a breath. “The bullet did a bit of damage, and you lost a lot of blood.”
“How much damage?”
He pauses, watching me for long seconds before letting out a heavy sigh. “They had to remove one of your ovaries.”
I stare at him, like surely there has to be a punchline, surely what he’s telling me has to be a joke, because I don’t think I can handle the alternative. But it never comes, instead, Elijah watches me carefully, waiting for the moment his words sink in and I break in his arms.
“I don’t want you to freak out about this. It doesn’t mean anything, Doc said your other ovary is still perfect and it shouldn’t impact your ability to have children down the road.”
This is karma. I did this to myself. The moment I started taking birth control pills without telling Elijah, in fact, I blatantly hid it from him because I wasn’t prepared to face him to tell him I’m not ready for children, I set the wheels in motion for this to happen. By going behind his back, the gods decided to take the choice out of my hands altogether and punish me for my lies.
“Snowflake,” he murmurs, brushing his thumbs across my cheeks, wiping wetness away. I didn’t even realize I was crying, but the moment I do, the tears come hard and fast. Elijah’s eyes are panicked, he doesn’t know how to deal with my tears, and I don’t know how to stop them. His eyes dart to the door and then a moment later, he’s carefully scooping me up from the bed, his hands gentle as he lifts me and positions himself on the bed with me in his lap. “It’s okay. I’m here. I’ve got you.”
I don’t deserve his comfort, but I lean into it, nonetheless. I have to come clean. It’s not fair on him if I don’t. “I’m sorry,” I sob, turning my face into his chest and allowing my tears to stain his shirt. He’s still wearing his bloody clothes from the wedding, the red a stark contrast to the white fabric.
“You have nothing to be sorry for, little Snowflake. None of this is your fault,” he murmurs into my hair.
“You don’t understand.” A loud choke fills the room and burns through my chest. “This is all my fault.”
“No, it’s not, Snow. You didn’t ask for this to happen. You didn’t ask to be shot. But nothing is ever going to hurt you again. I will keep you safe from anything that ever threatens you or our family.”
His words only make the tears come faster. The family I probably can’t give him anymore. What use is a Mafia wife who can’t provide heirs?
Thoughts swirl around in my mind, none staying for long enough for me to focus on it. At least Elijah seems to be attached enough to me that he probably won’t kill me. If I’m lucky, he’ll drop me back at the estate with some annulment papers, and that will be that. If I’m unlucky, I’ll find myself at the bottom of Lake Michigan with concrete tied to my ankles.
“I need you to settle, Snow.” Elijah’s voice is firm, but it only makes the tears come in harder and faster. “You’re going to hurt yourself and I do not tolerate anything hurting my Snowflake.”
“I deserved this,” I cry.
“What did you just say?” Elijah growls, his body tensing beneath mine despite his hold on me remaining gentle.
I take a few calming breaths, enough that I can look at him and see the thunder in his eyes. “I deserved this. It’s karma,” I whisper, not trusting my words to come out even.
“What the hell are you talking about, Snow?” he snaps. His patience is wearing thin, and I almost want to ask him to put me down while I tell him this because I don’t know how he’s going to react.
“I was taking the pill,” I murmur. “I had a few packets at the estate and I started taking it the day the dealers went missing. I wasn’t ready for children, and you were so against the idea of birth control,” I sob. “This is my karma.”
Elijah is quiet for long moments, so long I begin to wonder if he’s going to reply at all. Some of the tension in his body has eased, but there’s still something vibrating through his body, begging to be let out to play. He sighs and his breath whispers across my cheeks. “You didn’t deserve this, Snow. I can see how I was a little… heavy-handed and may not have taken what you wanted into account, and for that, I am sorry. When you’re ready, we can start trying for children, and Doc said if we do have any issues, we could try IVF. Or we could adopt. There are plenty of kids in this city that need a loving home.”
I stare at him, trying to make sense of the words he’s saying. Adopt? What Mafia boss has adopted children? Could he pass the family down to them?
“I can see that pretty little head racing a mile a minute, but you need to relax before you hurt yourself. This is not something we need to worry about right now and I don’t want you making yourself sick.” He presses a gentle kiss to the top of my head before resting his chin there. He holds me so tight and for so long the tears begin to settle and the ache in my chest starts to ease.
But there’s still a nagging thought in the back of my mind that he’s just saying this because he feels guilty I was hurt, and if that’s the case, I don’t know how long it will be before he snaps and leaves me.
