The Final Hour

by London Miller

  “I need a favor,” Mishca said pressing a set of keys into Lauren’s hand when she got home the next day. “Alex is in Brighton Beach. I need you to pick her up.”

  “Why is she there?” Lauren asked, peeking down at the logo on the keys she held.

  The set for the Range Rover were hanging just beside his head, and without a second thought, Lauren reached past him, grabbing them, replacing the Mercedes keys instead. Mishca didn’t comment on this—not that he cared which car she drove—just smiled.

  “I prefer not to ask questions. Take Luka.”

  “But it’s only Brighton Beach.”

  That did make him look at her, making sure she saw the seriousness of his expression. “Precisely. It’s because it’s Brighton Beach that I want you to take him.”

  “You’re the boss.”

  He scowled at her as she left but she merely blew him a kiss, Luka trailing behind her.

  “Want me to drive?” Luka asked, already reaching for the keys in Lauren’s hand, but she snatched it back, pressing the button to unlock the doors.

  “Of course not.”

  He eyed her nervously, reluctantly climbing into the passenger seat, reaching to pull his seatbelt on. “Should I be nervous?”

  Starting the car and putting the truck into drive, she smiled though she didn’t look at him. “Not at all.”

  When she was finally parked near the pier, Luka snatched the keys from the ignition before she even had her seatbelt off.

  “Oh come on, Luka. It wasn’t that bad.”

  It was only made worse because Luka was a terrible passenger, and made it a point to voice his opinion on her driving the entire way there. She might not have helped matters when she had tried to imitate his driving.

  He grumbled something below his breath as he climbed out, already heading towards the brick building where Alex was supposed to be waiting for them. Judging from his expression, she wasn’t the only one wondering what Alex was doing out here.

  She and Alex had hung out a few times over the last couple of months, and normally the were relegated to Manhattan or the Village. Alex had expensive tastes, but Lauren didn’t fault her for that. She doubted Mishca would have sent Alex to do a job for him, and she really doubted he would have let her come here alone which made her even more curious.

  Before they even reached the entrance, Alex came hurrying out, a tote bag thrown over one shoulder, reflective sunglasses in place, dressed in a shimmery dress that clung to her body. If Lauren had to guess, she was still wearing the clothes from a night out.

  Unlike her older brother—who always seemed to carry himself stiffly in public—Alex walked with a dancer’s grace, thanks to a long life of ballet. Her hair was different too. While still blonde, there were several different shades through out it. In Lauren’s opinion, it seemed like she was trying to step out of Anya’s shadow.

  “Why’d you bring the brawn?” Alex asked, barely sparing Luka a glance as she sauntered by him, tossing her bag into the trunk.

  “Mish’s orders.”

  “You should remind him who wears the pants in your relationship.”

  “What were you doing in there?” Luka asked as he opened the door for Alex first, then Lauren.

  “Nothing you wouldn’t do, Tiger.”

  He rolled his eyes at that, like he was used to her calling him by that. Sometimes it seemed like they got on each other’s nerves, but other times, like this, they enjoyed bantering.

  Luka forced them both to sit in the back, climbing into the driver’s seat. There was no other experience like being in the car when Luka was driving.

  When they were on their way back home, they passed by Mishca’s club, the first time Lauren had seen it since the day she was there with the Albanian hitter. And thoughts of that unwillingly brought back ones of Naomi and what she had shown her. She had been so proud of those stars, blatantly showing them off, knowing the effect they would have on Lauren.

  Before her, Lauren would have never known that women in the lives of the men in the Bratva could even possess those stars, and she still didn’t have a clear understanding as to what they meant when they weren’t on Bratva Captains.

  It felt too awkward for her to ask Luka about it, and there was no guarantee that he would give her a straight answer. Her only other option—because she didn’t want to ask Mishca—was Alex.

  “Alex, can I ask you a question?”—She nodded.—“Did you know Naomi back when she was with Mish?”

  “Of course,” Alex said filing one of her fingernails. “Hated her. Why do you ask?”

  “She showed me something. The stars.”

  They had been on Lauren’s mind for a while. She had never thought to bring it up to Mishca again since the day she found out about them, and knowing him, he would downplay exactly what they meant.

  Alex looked at her out the corner of her eye, pausing in her filing. “What about them?”

  “What do they mean exactly?”

  Alex sighed, dropping her feet down to the ground. “They’re like an order of protection, normally extended to those closest to the Bratva—lets others know that they can’t be touched and if there’s a problem, you go to the person that put the stars there.” Alex shrugged like that wasn’t a big deal. “I can’t say why Mishca gave them to her, not when he knew Naomi’s history.”

  “What was her history?” Lauren didn’t mean to sound as desperate as she did, but she wanted to know what happened between the two of them.

  “Just so you know, I have a birthday coming up. I want you to remember how helpful I’ve been when I ask you for that dress I’ve been eyeing.”

  Laughing at being caught, Lauren nodded. “Sure thing.”

  “Naomi is a jewel thief, pretty good from what I’ve heard. Of course no one wanted to tell me anything, being as young as I was, but they also forgot I had ears. Idiots.” She rolled her eyes. “Anyway, they had their little thing—”

  “Little thing?” Lauren asked cutting her off.

  Her face scrunched up. “Do I really have to go into detail?”

  Ah, so that’s what she meant. “No, go on.”

  “Anyway, they had their thing, and if Mishca wasn’t completely blotto, he would have seen what a raging bitch she was, but alas, when they think with their dicks,”—this seemed to be targeted at Luka— “there ain’t shit we can do to change their minds. What’s all this about anyway? You want them, the stars?”

  Lauren shrugged, not really committing to an answer. “I just wanted to know more about them.”

  “If you want the stars, demand them,” Alex said with a smile. “He’ll give you whatever you want.”

  Back at home, Mishca was climbing out of the shower, a towel around his waist, another in his hands as he ran it through his hair. While she did have reasons to wait for him to finish, that didn’t mean she could appreciate the view in the meantime. Mishca had never been shy, not since they first started dating, and she was almost used to it. Almost.

  He met her eyes briefly, reading her face before stepping into the closet to get dressed. “Drive okay?”

  “Yea, it was fine. Why was Alex out there?”

  “No idea. She doesn’t tell me anything anymore.” He stepped out, zipping his jeans. “Why, where was she?”

  Smiling helplessly, she shrugged. “I couldn’t tell you. A really big building?”

  He nodded, and she didn’t doubt that if he really wanted to know, he would find out, but currently that wasn’t what she wanted to talk to him about. If talking was the right word.

  Mishca was notoriously stubborn and while she might have thought having the stars was a good idea, he might not agree, and that would just lead to him gradually talking her out of the idea. The best course of action was for her to just demand he give them to her, just as Alex had said.

  “What is it?” He asked, breaking her train of thought.

  “Huh?”

  “You’ve got that look on your face when you want someth
ing that I won’t agree with. What is it?”

  It was now or never.

  She placed her hand over one of the stars, making sure to look him dead in the eyes as she said, “I want them.”

  To be honest, she didn’t really need them, she knew that. It wasn’t like there was any doubt in anyone’s mind what she meant to him, but she also thought about the way Naomi was handled when the Albanians came to town. The Albanians didn’t immediately go after her, instead, they came to Mishca.

  She wasn’t kidnapped, wasn’t hit, wasn’t threatened.

  With them, Lauren hoped to not only avoid what had happened to her, but to show Mishca that there would be no more running. With him was where she wanted to stay.

  “They can’t be removed,” Mishca said, “unless I strip them from you. Which, you should be warned, I will never do.”

  “I understand.”

  “You don’t have to do this,” Mishca said watching her face, waiting for any reaction that she was unsure of this, but she looked resolute, and no matter what he said, she wouldn’t be changing her mind.

  Grabbing a pair of chairs, he set them up near the table, going for his kit next. Not everyone in the Bratva knew how to do the stars, and even fewer were even allowed to ink them on others. It was a tradition they stuck to religiously, not letting any outsider do their work for them.

  When she was seated in front of him, her arm resting on the table between them, he snapped on a pair of gloves, cleaning the skin where he would be placing his mark. Mishca had only been twenty-one when he put the stars on Naomi, and had only been part of the Bratva for a few months though he’d done work for his father for years. At the time, he hadn’t known the significance of the stars, and what it meant for another person that wasn’t sanctioned to wear them. He had only done what Naomi had asked of him. He’d been young and could care less that she wanted them.

  It was only later that Mishca learned why she wanted them and how it would affect the Bratva because of his bad judgment.

  What he was doing now was different. He wasn’t being tricked into putting the stars on Lauren, these were more like a gift. It also helped that he was specifically mimicking the ones on his chest. Naomi’s were slightly altered—he’d been drunk out of his mind and was still surprised they turned out so well—but these would be perfect. He still had a few stencils of the stars from Clorick, the man who had done his stars.

  Now, he carefully placed the design on either side of her chest just below her collarbone, smoothing them out to make sure they were in place. She’d wanted them on her wrists first, but he’d talked her out of that, knowing that she was going into the medical field. He drew back once he finished, studying their placement and the lines.

  “You look pleased,” she said smirking at him.

  Was he? He had to admit that it filled him with a sense of pride that she would proudly wear his stars, and knowing that she wanted nothing in return for them only made it better.

  “This is going to hurt,” he warned her, grabbing the bottom of her chair to drag her closer.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  He smiled. Of course she would. Firing up his machine, he dipped it into the ink, turning back to her so he could do a single line first, waiting to see if she could handle the pain before he continued. At her nod, he started in, taking his time as he did the line work. He paid close attention to her as he went about finishing the first star, using her body as a reference to how she was feeling.

  Lauren hardly made a sound.

  In no time at all, the first star was done, the skin around it an angry red. Setting the machine down, he gently cleaned it, rubbing ointment over it as he looked up at her face.

  “How was that?”

  “The first ten minutes wasn’t so bad, but I was plotting your death for the last twenty-five.”

  He laughed, shaking his head. “Not so bad though, no?”

  She scoffed, wincing as she rotated her shoulder. “The hell if it isn’t—and you got these on your knees too? You’re insane.”

  Though he would never admit it to her, when he’d gotten the stars on his knees, it hurt like hell, but with the bone there, it made it ten times worse.

  “One more.”

  She took a deep breath, nodding for him to continue. This one was over just as quickly and as he sat back to look at his work, he couldn’t contain the smile that bloomed on his face. It was like a visual reminder that she was his and anyone that thought to harm her would now face the wrath of the entire Bratva, not just Mishca himself.

  Clicking off the machine, he set it down, gingerly cleaning off the excess ink before smearing ointment over it. He tried to hide it—though she saw right through that mask—but he was proud of having those stars on her.

  For several moments he just stared at them, like it was the first time he had ever seen them. Finally, he looked up at her, smile still in place as he snapped off the gloves.

  “Ready to see them?”

  She nodded, accepting his hand as he helped her up and led her into the bathroom. He moved behind her, his hands at her hips as she gave her time to take a look at her reflection.

  Lauren didn’t look immediately, preparing herself for what she would see.

  It didn’t disappoint.

  While her skin was angry and swollen, Mishca’s stars sat prettily below her collarbone, made even better since Mishca was standing behind her. He had done a great job, placing her stars in nearly the same place as where his were inked.

  “I like them,” Lauren said. “Guess I’m stuck with you.”

  He leaned down, tenderly kissing the spot below her ear. “You never had a choice.”

  The stands were overflowing with people, but that didn’t matter to Lauren as she spent the majority of the ceremony searching the crowds for her family. Since she was towards the end of the alphabet, she had plenty of time to look.

  She had almost given up hope when her row was called. As they made their way into the aisle, Lauren caught sight of a sign being raised into the air. Everyone was staring at the obnoxious screaming person as he waved it around, but Lauren could only laugh at his antics.

  This, in its entirety, was one of the main reasons she loved Luka. He was so odd.

  With him happily making a spectacle of himself, Lauren found everyone else surrounding him. He was even able to get a reluctant grin out of Ross who was shaking his head at his behavior.

  Mishca was sitting in front of them all and when his eyes found hers, the biggest grin lit up his face. She waved up at him, just hearing the subtle sound of someone clearing their throat behind her.

  Back on track, she followed the line of people in front of her to the stage, her entire body jittery with nerves as she waited for her name to be called. Years of work, just for these few minutes and the crisp, bundled paper in her hands…it was all worth it. And even though it was just one step towards her dream, it meant everything to her.

  She instinctively reached for the necklace that hung around her neck, but with it hidden beneath her gown, she could only feel the slight indentation it made as she felt for it. As much as this was for her, it was also for him.

  When her name was called, Lauren took a calming breath, lifting the bottom of her gown so she wouldn’t trip on her way up—there would be nothing more embarrassing than falling flat on her face in front of hundreds of people.

  She tried to discreetly wipe the sweat from her hand before she shook the dean’s hand, then accepted her diploma from the woman standing next to him. Overall, she doubted she had been on the stage longer than a couple of minutes.

  Lauren returned to her seat, clapping along with everyone else as the last of the names were called. Towards the end, all the graduating students pulled off their caps, flinging them up into the air as everyone cheered.

  Lauren watched hers flutter up, turning end over end before it dropped down to the ground amongst a sea of others.

  They had done it.

  As Lauren
made her way through the abundance of students and proud family members, she pulled out her phone, ready to call Mishca to find out where they were, but on the outskirts of the crowds, she saw Susan and Ross were waiting for her, their eyes alight and infectious smiles on their faces as she rushed forward to hug them.

  They had arrived the day before, staying at the Waldorf hotel for a couple of nights. Mishca had offered to put them up, but Ross adamantly refused. Knowing Mishca though, he probably did it still, just because Lauren wanted him to.

  She hugged Susan first, kissing both of her cheeks before doing the same to Ross, but he didn’t stop there, swinging her up and around.

  “We got these for you,” he said proudly, handing her a small bag with a teddy bear hanging out, a tiny graduation cap on its head, as well as balloons.

  “Thank you. I’m so glad you guys could make it.”

  “We wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” Susan interjected. “Don’t worry, he’s on his way back.”

  Lauren flushed guiltily, not meaning to have been so obvious as she looked around for Mishca and the others. “Did he tell you about the party tonight?” She asked, trying to get any information she could.

  She had known that Mishca was planning something special for her graduation, but she had no idea what it was, and he wasn’t wiling to share any of the details either.

  “We’re on strict orders not to reveal anything,” Susan said, reaching out to brush Lauren’s hair off her shoulders.

  She didn’t think there was any parent in the world that looked even half as proud as Susan and Ross did as they unraveled Lauren’s diploma, smiling at each other. Lauren was just glad that she could put those smiles there.

  “Oy, oy!”

  Mishca, Luka, Alex, and Amber were all walking towards them, Mishca rolling his eyes at Luka’s outburst.

  “Who is that?” Ross asked, clearly referring to Luka.

  “Luka. He’s my bodyguard.” She thought that sounded better than saying he was an enforcer for Mishca. While she doubted Ross would completely thaw towards Mishca, he had at least become cordial.