“Not personally, but everyone in the business knows who Jack was.”
“What do you know about him?”
“Same as you––not much. Why this sudden interest in Bigfoot?”
“I’m trying to piece together Valentina’s history, but it’s all dead-end streets.”
“Why?”
“I’m interested.”
“Don’t get attached to her, Gabriel. I’ve warned you, already.”
“So you have.”
“Are you?”
“Am I what?”
“Getting attached?”
“I don’t think I’m capable of attachment.”
“You’ve always been a soft boy, too soft for what it takes.”
“What does it take, Magda?”
“Do your job.”
“You mean kill her.”
“As agreed.”
I don’t agree at all, but a text comes in from Rhett, informing me the doctor has arrived. I order him to wait upstairs and go in search of Valentina. She’s walking Bruno with Quincy, and seeing them together in friendly banter only escalates my irritability.
“Hey,” she says when she sees me.
Her warm smile cools at my explosive state.
“The doctor’s waiting,” I say.
At my tone, Quincy mumbles a greeting and takes his leave.
“I know. I suggested we get started, but he insisted on waiting for you,” she tells me.
“I’m here now, so let’s go.”
In my room, I tell the doctor to repeat the same tests from yesterday. Yesterday, I wanted to ensure Valentina hasn’t sustained internal injuries that could prevent her from having children. Today, I need to know I haven’t damaged her.
“Again?” he says, his voice not giving away his thoughts.
I raise my brow in challenge. I pay him enough not to ask questions.
He turns to Valentina. “You know what to do, my dear.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Do it, Valentina,” I say more harshly than what I intended.
She flinches at my tone but obeys. Only when the doctor tells me that she’s fine do I relax. I’d instructed him to inject her with a fertility treatment yesterday to increase her chances of conceiving. She’ll be ovulating a week from today, and my seed will be in her morning, afternoon, and night, until it takes.
I hold out her dress for her to step into and button up the front before guiding her back to the daybed. The doctor unrolls the bandage on her thumb, exposing an angry, red wound. I don’t need his confirmation to know the antibiotics aren’t helping. Neither does Valentina.
She looks at me with big eyes. “I hoped it would be better today.”
The doctor gives me a grim look. “She’ll have to go to the clinic. Now.”
My world comes to a standstill for a third time that day. I take Valentina’s hand in mine. Her palm is cold and clammy. “Is there a risk of her losing her thumb?”
“I don’t know. I’m not a surgeon.” He pulls off the medical gloves and throws them in the trashcan. “Do you need me to call an ambulance?”
“No.” I squeeze her fingers. “I’ll take her.”
I get Quincy to drive us so I can sit in the back with Valentina, my arm around her shoulders. Her frame is tense, but she leans into my touch when I grip her chin to kiss her lips. From spanking her, I know her pain threshold is low. That’s why she was so pale this morning. I want to tell her it will be all right, but there are already enough lies between us, and I simply don’t know.
On the way to the hospital, I call my personal insurance broker and get her to arrange pre-admittance at the clinic. It’s peak hour traffic at five, but Quincy knows the back roads and manages to get us there in little over thirty minutes. With Valentina already admitted, we walk straight to an examination room where a young surgeon waits on us. He takes one look at her finger and orders tests to be done.
“What’s the course of action?” I ask tightly.
“One thing at a time. Let’s get the results, first.”
“How long will it take?”
“An hour, maybe ninety minutes. We have the lab on site, and I requested the tests as a priority. I can get you a private room where you’ll be comfortable, or you can wait in the cafeteria.”
“Get us a room, please.” I can’t stand crowds, and I doubt Valentina is in the mood for hospital coffee.
A nurse shows us to a room with bright yellow walls and a single bed with a blue bedspread. Quincy takes up a position by the door while I make Valentina sit on the bed. I check the time on my phone. It’s almost six. I’m about to shove it back into my pocket when it rings. Carly’s name appears on the screen.
“Excuse me.” I press a kiss on Valentina’s temple and walk to the corner of the room. “Hello, princess. Where are you?”
“I’m home. Where are you?”
“At the hospital.”
“Is something wrong?”
“I had to bring Valentina. Her wound is infected.”
“Oh, no. Tell her I hope it’s going to be okay. Listen, Mom’s here. Rhett is loading my stuff in the car.”
“Already?” I glance at Valentina. “When are you leaving?”