“Well, it must’ve paid off—you hit the driver, and that was that. They held the road for a few seconds, but then wiped out. All three guys in the car were dead.”
“Good.” Sergei winced as he tried in vain to get comfortable. “How the hell did we wreck, then?”
“When the driver lost control, he hit my back end.” Dom shrugged apologetically. “At that speed, on a winding road…”
Sergei looked him up and down. “So you didn’t get hurt? You’re obviously okay now, but were—”
“The airbag punched me in the face, and I was walking pretty slowly for a few days.”
“A few—” Sergei blinked. “How long has it been?”
“A week.”
“I’ve been out cold for a week?”
“Not quite. Heavily sedated and hopped up on painkillers.” Dom smiled, running his thumb along Sergei’s hand. “You’ve actually been awake more than you think.”
“I don’t remember anything.”
Dom shook his head. “You’re not supposed to. They kept you drugged so you wouldn’t be in as much pain, and so you wouldn’t tear out your IV again.”
“Again?” Sergei looked at his hand, and realized there were a number of bruises along the veins. Ditto with his other hand.
“Let’s just say you’re not the most compliant patient in the world.” Dom patted his arm gently. “But you made it.”
“And you were here? The whole time?”
“As much as they’d let me.” Dom frowned. “Dr. Rojas pulled some strings so I could stay with you in the ICU, but once they moved you down here, that asshole doc in charge didn’t want me underfoot all the time.” He gestured over his shoulder. “I’ve been staying down the road at one of the motels we used to use.”
Sergei blinked. “You… even with the investigation going on? You should be as far from here as possible.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Dom squeezed his shoulder. “But I wasn’t leaving you behind. I couldn’t leave you here any more than I could’ve left you out there on the road.” He leaned down again and kissed him softly. “As soon as you’re back on your feet, though, we’re out of here.”
“The doctor said it might take a while.”
“I know.” Dom pressed another soft kiss to Sergei’s cheek. “But I’m not going anywhere until you do.”
Sergei reached up and touched Dom’s face. “Thank you.”
Dom smiled. He smoothed Sergei’s hair and whispered, “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
It was over. Once Sergei’s body recovered, they’d leave, and it would be well and truly over.
And for the first time since he was eight years old, Sergei could know peace.
Epilogue
A few months later
“I don’t need a fucking painkiller,” Sergei muttered.
“Just take one.” Dom took his hand on the wide armrest between them. “It wouldn’t hurt you to sleep.”
“It’s a long flight. I’m sure I’ll pass out sooner or later.”
“Suit yourself. They’re in my bag if you need them.”
Sergei nodded.
The plane pulled away from the gate, and as it taxied, Dom’s heart sped up, but he took a few slow, easy breaths to calm himself down. He’d never been a fan of flying. As the plane’s front end lifted up, though, and the noise of tires on asphalt gave way to the whine of the engines, he exhaled.
“Maybe you should be taking something,” Sergei teased.
Dom eyed him.
Sergei snickered, squeezing his hand. “Just take one.” He batted his eyes. “It wouldn’t hurt you to sleep.”
“Very funny. At what point are you healed enough that I can elbow you when you’re being a pain in the ass?”
“Don’t know.” Sergei winked. “I’ll let you know when I get there.”
“Yeah, right…”
Sergei chuckled.
Dom shifted around to get comfortable in his seat. It was first class, after all. Might as well enjoy it, even if he loathed the idea of hurtling across the sky in a metal tube.
As much as he wasn’t thrilled with air travel, he did find a hell of a lot of relief in the idea of the ground getting farther and farther away. Soon, they’d be out over the ocean, and after more hours than he cared to think about, they’d touch down in a new world to start their new life together.
They’d left Cape Swan nine days after Sergei was wounded. He hadn’t recovered yet, but they couldn’t risk staying in town while the cops and feds descended on La Cosa Nostra.
So, with the help of Dr. Rojas, they’d slipped out of town in an unmarked vehicle, and though the trip was miserable for Sergei, they made it to Portland, where one of the doctor’s colleagues accepted the transfer. It hadn’t been cheap—Dom had paid the new doctor an enormous sum to make sure he didn’t question or report a patient recovering from an unexplained bullet hole and massive surgery.