Victor had found he’d been sleeping a lot. He didn’t even know how long he’d been at the clinic for at this point because the drugs in his system that kept the pain at bay also conked him out at various times, sometimes for hours. He preferred to be asleep anyway, since when he was awake he was mostly just bored out of his skull. The medication he was on made it hard for him to move around, so there wasn’t much to do but stay in bed.
He was more than ready to leave, but he doubted Grace would let him. He’d lost too much blood, and it was apparently a miracle he’d made it through alive at all, much less in one piece. He didn’t believe in miracles, though, and he wanted to find out what was going on on the outside. What had happened with his men? What were the Macini doing? What was Fran planning to do with him? He had a million questions, and that didn’t even touch on all of the things he wanted to do (in particular get his hands on Armand Russett when he was strong enough), and he was going crazy being laid out in this bed.
He’d been brought books by Grace, but he’d never been much a fan of reading. It always felt like wasted time to him, but he did at least attempt it. He was frowning his way through Moby Dick when a person stepped inside the doorway. It took him a moment to realize he was being watched, but when he did notice, he looked up.