Angel

Part Seven

I was jerked awake when Adrian's cellphone started ringing. He cursed softly under his breath and reached over towards the nightstand, hastily slapping at it until he found his phone.

"Maddox." He ground out, his voice rough and hoarse with sleep. I curled up against his side, burying my head under the blankets he had thrown over us when we fell asleep. I tried not to focus too much on his one-sided conversation because it sounded important and work-related. But then he said something that immediately gained my full attention.

"Ronaldo's store," he asked quietly, "what happened," he paused, glancing at me quickly, "yeah...I'll be right there." Adrian climbed to his feet and started getting dressed.

"What happened?" I asked, sitting up. He hesitated for a second before turning to me.

"Mr. Ronaldo was attacked," he replied quietly, "when he didn't come home after he was supposed to close up, Mrs. Ronaldo went to the store and found him."

"Shit," I hissed, jumping to my feet and quickly threw on my clothes, "is he ok?"

"An ambulance is taking him and his wife to the hospital now," Adrian replied, "come on...I'll drop you off on the way." He took my hand and led me out to his truck.

Adrian screeched to a stop in front of the hospital and grabbed my hand before I jumped out.

"Hey, call me if anything comes up," he stated, leaning in close and pecking a quick kiss across my lips, "I'll text you when I'm headed home, ok?" I nodded and jumped out, rushing inside.

I ran up to the front desk at the ER and looked to the older, tired looking woman sitting there, tapping away at her computer.

"Uh...hi," I said, "an ambulance brought my boss in, Mr. Ronaldo." She peered at me over the rim of her thick, blue framed glasses.

"If you aren't an immediate family member, I can't release any information," she stated dully, "you're welcome to wait in the lobby."

"Milo?" I heard Mrs. Ronaldo call out. I turned and saw her rushing into the ER. I ran over to her and she grabbed my arms.

"What happened," I asked, "is Mr. Ronaldo ok?"

"They're taking him in now," she replied, a worried look on her face, "the paramedics said he has a gash on the back of his head and maybe some broken ribs...he's been unconscious since I found him so we're not sure who attacked him," she gave my arms a gentle squeeze, "I'm just so glad you're here, Milo." I went over with her while she talked to the head nurse, and then we found a couple of empty chairs in the waiting room. And that's all we could do now was wait. We both must have dozed off because I jerked awake when I heard somebody call out to us. A young doctor wearing blue scrubs was standing there, glancing between the two of us.

"Mrs. Ronaldo?" He asked softly. She nodded, sitting up straighter in her chair.

"I'm Dr. Kincaid. Mr. Ronaldo is doing fine, all things considered," he said giving her a reassuring smile, "he had a pretty deep gash on the back of his head that needed stitches and he'll need to be observed for a potential concussion over the next twenty-four hours. He also has two broken ribs, but fortunately, he's a tough guy. He's awake if you would like to see him now?" We both climbed to our feet and followed him to Mr. Ronaldo's room. He was sitting up in bed, a bulky bandage wrapped around his head. It looked like he had a black eye and scrapes and bruises on his face. He gave Mrs. Ronaldo a tired smile when we came in. She rushed to his side and he took her hand, brushing a kiss across her knuckles. I stood by the door, giving them privacy as they spoke in hushed murmurs.

"My love, could you find the nurse and have her bring me some ice, please?" Mr. Ronaldo asked softly. She nodded, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek and gave my shoulder a squeeze on her way out. Mr. Ronaldo beckoned me closer. I came to his side, staring down at the floor. It was my fault he was attacked tonight. If I hadn't taken the night off, this wouldn't have happened.

"Milo," Mr. Ronaldo asked softly, "are you in trouble?" I looked up, giving him a confused look.

"What?" I asked.

"They came looking for you," he murmured, "the Russians." I felt my breath catch in my throat.

"They wanted to know where you were," he went on, "said you weren't at your apartment...Milo, these men...they are dangerous if you're in trouble with them, I can help."

"I'm not in trouble," I stated, "don't worry, I'll take care of this." Mr. Ronaldo stared into my eyes, studying me.

"Be careful." He said quietly. I nodded before turning to leave. I made my way outside and stopped on the sidewalk, fishing my phone out of my pocket. My hand trembled as I brought up my contacts. I took a deep breath before dialing. I started talking as soon as he answered.

"I need a favor," I said, "I need to meet with the Russians."