Vow to Protect (Vow To Protect 1)

“When Sal surfaces, let me know immediately, especially if you get a hold of him. Keep me updated on the movements of her father and note if he makes any sudden changes like he knows what happened here.”

Kai nods. “Anything else?”

I’ve already turned back to the bed, my attention on the way her chest rises and falls. “Keep one of the five on the door at all times and have Andrea go get some clothes for her. She’s going to wake up soon, and she’ll need something to wear.”

He doesn’t need to say anything. I hear the soft settle of the door against the frame to indicate he left the room.

I was going to bathe her, but right now, after talking to the doctor and then Kai, I need to calm down. So I sit in the chair next to her bed and watch her carefully. Each little blip on the machines monitoring her condition signals she’s still with me, but it’s also a reminder that I could have lost her before I even made her mine. I won’t make that mistake again. The second she is well enough, I’ll be sure she knows she belongs to me in every way.

I don’t know how long I sit with her. Long enough that Andrea returns with two large white paper bags. “She isn’t my size, so I went out and got some things that will fit. And things she can wear as her injuries heal.”

I can’t believe I didn’t consider she’d need comfortable clothing to wear until she was back to full strength. Once again, I’m reminded why my team is the best.

She sets the bags at the end of the bed and does a quick once-over of the equipment and me. “Do you need anything else, boss? Want me to sit with her while you get some rest?”

“I’m not leaving her. I’ll rest when she is conscious again.”

“Any word?”

“The doctor continues to tell me I must wait. Little does he know I’m not a very patient man.”

She snorts. “He knows just fine. He’s the one who had to stitch up a bullet wound twice when you didn’t wait for it to heal before you went back to work.”

“Well, he gets paid well enough. Two rounds of stitches are nothing.” I know she’s trying to take my mind off worrying about Valentina, but it’s not working.

“You can go now. Make sure you guys rotate shifts on the door. No one comes in except one of you, me, or the doctor.”

She gives me a salute and leaves as quietly as she entered. I turn my attention back to Val and shift my chair closer. When she wakes up, I want to be ready to reassure her that she’s safe. Every time she’s woken since I found her, she’s been groggy and barely discernible. And each and every time, I add one more mental tally to what I’m going to take out of Sal’s hide in payback. As of right now, nothing will be left when I'm finished with him.

I take her hand in mine. It’s bruised across the knuckles from where she fought back. Her nails are jagged and split, but worst of all is the raw skin around her wrists from trying to free herself from her bindings. She never stopped fighting, even as her body began to give out under the strain of captivity. I’m so proud of her.

Gently, I smooth my thumb over a pale patch of healthy skin on the back of her hand. The need to touch her is overwhelming, but I won’t hurt her, not like he did.

Her fingers twitch against the plush duvet, and I lift my hand to make sure she doesn’t move and cause me to touch one of her wounds. When her hand curls into a fist, I scan up her arm and into her face. It’s drawn tight, like she is having a nightmare, so I ease out of my seat and gently prod her shoulder. “Val, wake up, Val. You’re dreaming.”

To my surprise, her eyes fly open, and she lets out a gasp. Then she settles back on the bed and looks at me with full wide eyes, and says, “Rose?”

12

Valentina

I’m not sure how long it takes me to realize I’m awake. It takes a few blinks to clear my hazy vision and then notice the strange ceiling. Then down to the unfamiliar bedding and the bandages around my wrists.

A figure looms at the side of the bed, and I simply react, clawing out while trying to scramble away. I don’t know why, but something inside me needs to hide.

“Stop fucking moving,” a deep voice says. It soothes something in me that had raised its hand, prepared to strike. Now, it paces, waiting to see if we’re safe.

“Who? What’s going on?” I’m still baring my nails at the figure when the light flicks on. I stare at the figure and recognize him. “Adrian?”