Broken Clocks

Chapter Nineteen

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Everything is in Russian

Milio 

The monitor goes haywire and her pulse weakens.

"If she fucking dies the entire county burns, starting with your family." I tell the doctor as he operates on my wife. He is stitching her neck. The cut was deep, but not deep enough to kill her. Still her vitals are bad. “Stop fucking trying to leave me.” I squeeze her hand and her heart rate spikes back to normal. I smirk down at her.

 She sleeps, completely vulnerable, completely submitting to me, completely mine for the taking to do with what I please. 

She lays still with her eyes effortlessly shut. I’ve always enjoyed watching my wife sleep. Her chest glides up then down in a slow and steady rhythm reassures me that she will live, I need that reassurance. 

Her lips are slightly puckered out, they are melanated almost the same color of her skin, so welcoming, almost begging me to engulf them.

I want to engulf them.

I want her, feel her moan against my lips. Even when she made it seem like she didn’t want me to touch her I always ended up making her enjoy it.

She is so mesmerizing my angel. Smart, funny, beautiful and all mine. She’s always been mine, ever since the first time I had her. 

At one point in time she understood that. 

I have been thinking of ways to punish her. Beating her wouldn’t be good enough.

“I say you get her pregnant. Then she won’t have any other option other than to stay.” Lucifer stands from his chair in the corner of the hospital room and bounces over to where I stand.

The doctor is still putting the finishing touches on my angel.

“That wouldn’t work.” I can’t stand the thought of having her hate our child or of having to share her with one.

 I have to think of something she actually cares about. 

I cup my hand around her cheek. The heat from her face warms my fingers, just an hour ago when I touched her it was cold. 

She tried to leave me twice in one day. 

I feel a hand pat my shoulder. “If I were you I would cut her legs off…” There is a long silence before Lucifer starts to laugh.

“She is a brave one. I'll give her that.” he laughs again. “You have your work cut out for you.” We stand in silence for a moment before being interrupted. 

“Oh my god you slit her throat,” Alexandria catastrophizes  after bursting into my wife’s hospital room. My father follows soon after her. 

Why does she care so much? She comes closer and stands on the opposite side of the bed from Lucifer and I.

She looks down at my angel with somber eyes. 

I sigh and back away from my wife just to pull up a chair so that I can sit right next to her. Lucifer is already in his seat in the corner, analyzing the situation. 

I sit with my legs apart leaning in close to my wife. My shoulders slouch and my hair is thrown into a disorderly bun that I have to push my hair back into every once in a while.

I let my forehead rest on my wife's lap and shut my eyes.

“You're not taking her away from me.” My voice sounds cavourness like a roar. I am not one to scorn their father, but to keep her I will do anything. 

“Calm down, we are not here to take her.” My father sits in a chair not too far from where I am seated. 

The doctor cuts in by clearing his throat. I lift my head  up.  “She will be fine. She’ll have some trouble getting sounds out, but her voice should go back to normal eventually. As for her wound I would just give her time to heal. She is free to go whenever you see fit, make sure to keep the wound clean and I will prescribe her some things for the pain.”  

He hands me some paperwork then leaves. 

I stand again and give my wife a kiss on her forehead. I pull back my lips and breathe in deep through my nose.

It still smells of blood. The smell of earth and metal is deeply rooted in her braids.

She would hate it.

She loves being clean and the smell of blood has alway been one of her least favorite scents.

She has alway been clean. I remember when she told me about her childhood and how there were always roaches and because of that she formed a phobia of them. 

Washing the braids won’t remove the smell. Her feeling dirty will not be a part of punishment. I will have the braids removed.

I sit back down. “What are you here for?” I look at my father, my eyebrows lifted. I lean back into my chair and cross my arms.

“I am here to check on you.” he states this plainly. He is here to make sure Asia is still alive, to make sure I don’t destroy his country. 

I have noticed that he is in a much calmer state than he was in when he first entered the room. When he first came in his body language was more set on agitation, now it is halcyon and still. His head is even leaning slightly back. 

“I am here for the girl. You could have killed her.” Alexandria ticks still standing in the same place. 

“I could have.” I nod in agreement. I don’t feel bad about what I did, I would do it again.