“Yes or no?” Dom pressed. “I’d just as soon not go to one, but if it’s what he needs, then tell me.”
“He’s…” Rojas swallowed. Finally, he met Dom’s gaze. “Look, decompression sickness is unpredictable. Normally, I’d err on the side of caution and get him to a medical facility, just in case things take a bad turn. But, like I said, as long as he doesn’t get any worse, he should be okay. Just keep a close eye on him, Dom.”
“Of course. For how long?”
“Judging by his condition now, I’d say the next four or five hours are critical. To be safe, stay with him for the twelve after that.”
Dom nodded. “All right. I’ll stay with him as long as I can.”
“Good.” Rojas glanced around the room. At Sergei. At Dom. When his eyebrows pinched together, the question was unmistakable.
Dom swallowed. “This stays between us, all right?”
“Of course.” The doctor touched his arm. “Not a word. I promise.”
“Thanks.”
Rojas looked back at Sergei for a second. As he faced Dom, he said, “He should be all right in a few hours. If he gets any worse, though, you need to take him to the ER.”
Dom scowled.
“I know,” Rojas said. “But if he doesn’t improve on his own, he needs recompression therapy, and that’s not something I can do.”
Chewing the inside of his cheek, Dom nodded. “Well, there’s nothing illegal about scuba diving, so it isn’t like it’ll raise any red flags.”
“Maybe in any other town,” the doc muttered. “I’ve treated four people for decompression sickness in the last year, and they’ve all turned out to be drug mules.” His eyes flicked toward Sergei. “Believe me—it raises questions.”
“I don’t think he’s a…” Dom watched Sergei. Is he?
“Listen to me, Dom.” Rojas’s expression hardened. “Even if he is involved in something like every fucking person in this town seems to be, he still needs treatment if his symptoms don’t improve. Promise me you’ll take him to the ER if he doesn’t get better.”
Dom nodded. “Yeah. Definitely.”
“Good.” Rojas clapped his shoulder gently. “I’ll be back in a while. Call me if anything changes.”
“You or an ambulance?”
Rojas glanced at Sergei. “Both. Ambulance first.”
A chill ran up Dom’s spine. “Will do.”
The doctor left, and Dom sat beside Sergei. “Feeling any better?”
“Than what?” Sergei turned to him, eyelids fluttering open. “Roadkill?”
Dom chuckled. “Well, you still have a sense of humor. That’s promising, right?”
Sergei laughed, fogging up the mask. “If that ever goes, just put a bullet in me because I’m probably done.”
That sobered Dom faster than it should have. He slipped his hand into Sergei’s—the one without the IV—and laced their fingers together.
This was so weird, sitting beside a sedate Sergei, with no sound in the room except the A/C and the oxygen tank. He tried not to liken it to his mother’s final few days when he’d sat with her, when she too had worn a mask to get oxygen into her starving lungs while an IV kept fluid moving into her frail arms. Sergei wasn’t dying. He probably wasn’t even in that much danger as long as he relaxed and let the oxygen and IV do their jobs. But the quiet room, the near-silence, the fingers laced between his…
Maybe this is a sign that we should be saying goodbye.
Not the same kind of goodbye he’d had to say to his mother, but the kind he needed to be saying unless he wanted Sergei caught in a crossfire he had nothing to do with.
Take a hint, Dom. If you don’t want him to get hurt, stay the hell away from him.
But… not now. Not until he’s okay.
Dom squeezed Sergei’s hand. “That harbor is dangerous, you know. For divers.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“I’m serious. The Coast Guard’s busted a fuckload of divers who were transporting narcotics.”
“They can’t bust me if I don’t have anything on me.”
“They can still harass you.” Dom paused. “Hell, Rojas even wondered if you might’ve been one of the drug mules.”
“He thinks I’m a drug mule?”
Dom squeezed Sergei’s arm. “It… crossed his mind.”
Sergei laughed, his eyelids sliding shut. “A drug mule. That’s funny.”
“Is it? Why?”
“Dunno.” Sergei licked his lips. “Just is.”
Dom watched him for a moment. “So, why were you out… today?”
“Why not? Did you see the water out there?” Sergei shrugged, but winced, and rubbed his shoulder gingerly. “It was a perfect day for it.”
“Any idea how you got the bends?”
Sergei held his gaze, eyes narrowed just slightly. “It’s always a risk when you’re diving.”
“You said you came up too fast.”
“Yeah. Should’ve done some more decompression stops, but…” He swore softly and shook his head.
“Why, though?”
“I had a malfunctioning valve on my tank. Thought coming up too fast was better than staying down too long.”
“Oh.”
“Why?” Sergei lifted his eyebrows. “Do you think I was moving drugs—”