by Blue Saffire
“That’s not all,” Lasalle’s heavy sigh pulls me from my thoughts. “Do you know who Keisha and Kurtrina are?”
I bristle at the mention of my two half-sisters. I glare at LaSalle and see when he reads in my eyes that I know who he is talking about. I’m still not ready to entertain those facts.
My father still isn’t forgiven either. I’ve yet to confront him about it. I still plan to as soon as I get a chance. I give LaSalle a wary look as I feel his next words are about to send me into information overload.
LaSalle looks down at the girls, sleeping at his sides. His orbs then move to Sammy sleeping in my lap. His eyes soften for the moment it takes to look at his children and then he looks back at me.
“Misha and your sister, Keisha, have a daughter together. Her name is Milanie. She is all Misha has left. Your sister was murdered a month ago. Your other sister was on the run up until yesterday. She is safe now.”
LaSalle stares at me as if trying to wait to see how I’ll handle his words. I have to be honest. I wouldn’t have expected them to slay me this way. I bite back a sob and turn from his penetrating gaze.
I hear when he shifts. Only a few second later, I feel his heat beside me. His strong arm wraps around my shoulder, pulling me into him.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” LaSalle says into the top of my head wrap.
I turn my face into his shoulder and crumble. I never got to meet my sister. I know nothing about the two women that share my blood. How the fuck did my sister get caught up with Misha?
I pull away suddenly, with my face a hard mask. “Is this his doing?” I ask through my teeth.
“No,” LaSalle shakes his head sadly. “Misha has made the man responsible pay.”
“Who,” I hiss, needing to know.
“Pavel Krupin,” he replies.
My mouth gapes open. “His father?”
LaSalle nods. “He was a disturbed man and should have been put down a long time ago.”
“I’m so lost,” I wrinkle my brows as I think of the evil man I met the summer I spent in Russia. Misha is a crazy bastard, but his father…I could feel the evil rolling off of him. “Did she die because of me?” I can’t help asking.
“No,” he shakes his head. “There is still a lot I haven’t told you. When we get to the house, you and I will take a moment to talk in my private room, away from others and prying ears.”
“Okay,” I nod.
“However, you need to be prepared for the chance that Misha may show his face for the repass. Or at least, one of his men. You and I will have to tread lightly. Everyone will be watching.
“Tension is already high between myself and Ellen’s family. I don’t want to do anything that will force my hand with them. Most of all, I want to honor my wife.”
“I understand. I would never allow Ellen’s memory to be tarnished,” I whisper. “Again, thank you.”
“It’s not a problem. Misha isn’t the man you think he is, but he’s hurting and fucked up right now. I understand that. He loved your sister. God, I understand how he feels. He already has his own rationing for things. That short deck is even smaller now. I’m doing this for him as much as I am for you.”
“I don’t know about him not being the man I think. But thank you, anyhow,” I say bitterly.
“I think it’s time you have a talk with Czar as well,” LaSalle says with a stern look.
I turn away and slip out of his embrace. I can feel his stare on me for a long while before I hear him shift back to his original seat. I’m grateful for the distance. Being engulfed in his hold and scent stirred things inside me that I deny with my every breath.
I will not succumb to the craziness Camille was talking. Once again, LaSalle is being a friend. I would never take advantage of that. Not ever.
chapter Nine
A New Home
Monique
It’s been a week and I have a shitty attitude. LaSalle’s home has been like freaking Fort Knox. I can’t even go out without someone reporting to him where I’m going.
Reese offered to provide my physical therapy, but Nico and LaSalle shut that down since she’s pregnant. I feel like a prisoner here. Don’t get me wrong. I enjoy the time I get to spend with the kids. They have been sweet little angels. Sad little angels, but sweet nonetheless.
Sammy has been coping as best as can be expected, except for at night. He won’t go to bed in his own bed. He has insisted on sleeping in LaSalle’s bed, in Ellen’s spot. I find it sweet and heartbreaking all at the same time.
Sammy will wait up all night for LaSalle to come home, just so he can climb in bed with him. Only problem there is that LaSalle has been coming home later and later every night, smelling of alcohol.
I haven’t felt like it’s my place to say anything. I know he is grieving, but so are the children. They need him. Their little sad faces are ripping me apart.
“How are they today?” I hear a male voice rumble from behind me.
I turn to find Marcus Mairettie standing in the sliding glass doorway. This family is super tight. Someone is here every day to check on the kids. Sometimes two and three different friends and family members. Camille is here the most.
I’ve been steering clear of her. I hate that hopeful look she keeps giving me. Like magically, I’m going to go along with her and a dead woman’s harebrained scheme.
That shit is not happening. LaSalle is a mess. With each day that passes, I see less of the man I once knew. Well, that is with the little I see of him. I feel for him.
Besides, I have my own shit I’m dealing with. LaSalle was true to his word. After the burial, when we reached the house, Camille took the children and LaSalle took me down to his private room in the basement.
If that’s what you want to call it. It’s a sound proof, steel reinforced, box. From the moment I entered it, all I could do was wonder what he really used it for. Then I wondered what Ellen thought it was used for. I hadn’t realized I spoke the words out loud.
It was the first and last time I saw LaSalle actually laugh, since I’ve been here. His whole face lit up with the deep rumble. It made him so handsome.
“She had no idea this room was down here,” he said in amusement. “You do realize we walked a very long distance once passing the basement game room.”
I licked my lips and nodded.
“We are now underneath the back yard. Under the pool to be exact. That,” he nodded to a second door. “Is the entrance and exit I use for business. It is accessed from the other side of the property. An even longer walk.”
“Oh,” was my lame reply.
After that LaSalle sat me down and unloaded everything on me. All the details about my sisters. The fact that Misha is protecting my sister that’s still alive.
He got me up to speed on all the shooters on that fatal day outside my job. My job, that he forbids me from returning to until further notice, which did annoy me a bit. LaSalle laid out his plan for keeping Misha at bay until we figured out our next step.
My shoulders were so heavy by the time we left that room. I felt like I was wearing the weight of the world. The guilt and burden of Ellen’s death only increased. If it weren’t for the men shooting at me, I would have been able to save Ellen from her batshit crazy cousin.
Then there are the men Carlton’s mother sent after me. I guess all of that’s the real reason I’m allowing myself to be trapped here. I don’t know when someone’s going to come at me from one direction or the other.
As if reading where my thoughts have gone, Marcus saunters over and takes a seat on the lounger next to me. He looks out at the kids that have been sitting in a semi-circle off to themselves. I’ve watched the three become close. Sammy has taken on a new role in the group. It’s amusing to watch.
“You have to understand my brother. His role is different from the rest of ours. He has to put on a brave face even though he’s dying inside,” Marcus mutters.
“I get that. I get it more than you know,” I
say back.
“I know you know who he is,” Marcus says. “Do you know that he has gotten a recent promotion? It’s not an official, but just as good as.”
“Yes,” I say in a whisper and nod.
LaSalle informed me that he has been appointed to Don of the Locatelli family. It was one of the first things he made sure I understood. He wanted me to understand his role and his relationship with Misha.
“Then you understand that this all is not easy. He is not neglecting the children. He is handling his responsibilities,” Marcus asks.
I turn to look him in his grey eyes. They are so much like LaSalle’s, minus the hidden darkness. Marcus’s eyes are soft and kind.
“They’re his responsibility as well, but you don’t have to explain anything to me. Your brother is doing me a favor. One that could put everything on the line. I have no opinion on anything else,” I shrug.
“Bullshit,” Marcus chuckles. “It’s eating you up as much as it’s eating me up. I see it in your eyes.”
I sigh. “I know he’s busy, but the girls would love to see him during the day. I’m not their mother. They miss her and him.”
Marcus looks out at the kids and stares for a moment. He chuckles as he observes what I’ve seen in Sammy. He confirms what I suspect with his words.
“Sammy has become their protector,” Marcus chuckles as his eyes light up with the vision before us.
Sammy has wedged himself between the girls and has an arm wrapped around each of them. The girls understanding Sammy’s needs, both have an arm wrapped tightly around his waist.
“Yeah,” I giggle. With a smile on my lips I continue. “It’s the cutest thing. I’ve watched him anticipate their needs. It’s like he knows…”
My words trail off and my eyes widen. Oh, my God. No way. I’ve watched Sammy react to his sister’s breakdown within seconds of them happening. It’s like he knows when they are about to burst into tears. Or when they’re going to run from the room. Holy shit.
That fucking Ellen. That’s what she knew about Sammy. That’s the trigger I’ve been trying to find.
Brenda and the other therapists as well as myself were never ready to just place Sammy on the spectrum. His speech is far more advanced than his parents thought when they brought him to the clinic.
Yes, Sammy has a sensory issue, but there has been this nagging in the back of my brain. Sammy’s meltdowns just have never seemed right. If you watch Sammy you see that he observes and reacts just fine.
There has always been something else. Something just outside of reach. The way he channels his center without outside help when he can. It all makes sense.
“What? What just happened?” Marcus turns to me, frowning and searching my face.
“Did you know about Ellen’s gift?” I ask cautiously.
Marcus rubs that back of his neck. “Not until after she passed. Although, there had been a time or two when she said things to me in an odd way. Later on, it would click as certain situations would unfold.”
I nod and lick my lips. “La…Sam explained to me that it was something that was passed down through the women in Ellen’s family. I think this generation was a bit different. I think Sammy can see like his mother,” I say, as my thoughts race.
Marcus wrinkle his brows and just stares at me for a long time. “Are you sure?”
I bite my lips and chew it for a few beats. “I think I am, but maybe we should keep it between us for now. Lord knows, this all sounds so crazy. I did bump my head. I don’t want anyone trying to commit me for ranting craziness,” I snort.
Marcus throws his head back and laughs. His laugh grabs the attention of the children that have been in their own world. The girls squeal and run over.
“Uncle Marcus!”
I smile as the girls latch onto someone familiar to their lives. Sammy hangs back a little, moving toward us at his own pace. I look out to where he is standing as he gets closer. His eyes lock with mine. I’m not sure if he is looking at me or through me.
That’s when his body jerks and his eyes focus on mine. He nods at me as if, I too understand what just happened. He moves into my lap, as I keep my eyes intently on his.
“Be strong, Mo-mo,” Sammy says, as he cups my face. “He will be here soon. He is coming. Be strong.”
I look up to find Marcus lifting a brow at me. A shiver runs through me. I am not ready for this. Nope, not at all.
chapter Ten
The Things I Do
Sam
I’ve had too much to drink. I know Misha has been trying to get me pissy, so I cough up the truth. He just doesn’t know. I need to be in the bottom of every bottle we have drunk. Doesn’t help that my drinking partner and one of my best friends is an Irishman.
Logan has been right there beside me to make sure I hold my shit. I need Misha’s trust. There are whispers. Everyone thinks the Alliance is weak. That we’ve started something we can’t handle. Misha and I taking hits so close to home has created waves.
I need his focus off me and Monique and on the bigger picture around us. If that means spending our nights drinking our problems away, in his hotel room, so be it. It’s just tonight, Misha’s choice of Russian vodka, is promising to knock me on my ass.
“My friend, how is she? Have you told her of her niece?” Misha’s blue eyes blaze, as he asks the question. He doesn’t even look fazed.
I nod and run a hand through my hair. I’m no fool. Drink or not, I will stay as close to the truth as I can.
“She is doing as best as can be expected. Her shoulder is healing. The guilt of everything weighs heavy in her eyes. I tell her none of this is her fault, but I see she doesn’t believe me,” I nod and huff.
“She knows about Milanie. I think she is still in shock. She hasn’t mentioned her sisters or her niece since we talked about them,” I say.
It’s all truth. Misha can see that as he looks deep into my eyes. I refuse to look away. I have watched Monique in my home the few times I’ve gotten the chance.
Misha never showed up for the repass, but just as I thought, he sent one of his spies. Monique played the perfect distance not to give us away. It didn’t hurt that Sammy needed her most of the time. The girls had clung to her that day as well. I couldn’t have planned it better.
Misha snorts. “Guilt for stealing another woman’s husband,” he purrs and lifts a brow.
I fly to my feet and sway to the side. I ignore the groan that comes from Logan beside me. I’m not too drunk to make myself clear.
“Watch what you say, Misha. Tasha has never had to steal my heart. She has owned it for longer than even I have known. Before my wife, before my children. She walked away with a piece of me when she walked away from me,” I roar as my chest heaves.
When my own words penetrate my own skull, I stumble back. I shake my head to clear it. I clench my jaw. I have no idea where that just came from.
I look at Logan, he is giving me a quizzical look. When my eyes flicker to Misha, I see him watching Logan. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This slick bastard.
I stumble back to my seat and sit heavily. I look at the table and brush my hands over it. I feel the tears burning the backs of my eyes.
“I never cheated on my wife. I loved her. Sam,” I point to my chest. “He loved her. She never knew LaSalle. I don’t know if she could handle or love LaSalle. Tasha has seen LaSalle, it’s who she knows most. But LaSalle has never been fit for her or Ellen.
“Ellen knew this. She saw the man I was becoming. I never cheated on my wife. My feelings for Tasha were never touched while my wife and I were together,” I finish as I dance around the truth.
“I will see this for myself,” Misha says, but when I look in his face it’s a stone mask. “Milanie needs stability. You said you’d help. It’s time.”
I’m too drunk to process his meaning. My brain is still reeling at what my drunkenness has revealed. I nod at Logan, knowing this needs to be the end of the night for me.
~B~
&nbs
p; Monique
“Mo-mo,” Jessica whispers, as I brush her hair with my good arm.
“Yes, sweetie,” I murmur quietly. Megan is fast asleep in Jessica’s bed already. They have been sleeping together the last few nights.
“I really miss my mommy,” she says with a tremble in her voice.
I drop my hand into my lap. I don’t know what to say. I bite back my own tears. These poor babies.
“Is-is it okay to talk about her?” Jessica turns to face me and whisper.
“Of course, Honey. We’ll talk about her as much as you like, whenever you like,” I promise.
“She was the best mommy in the world. I miss her smile. I miss her hugs,” Jessica sobs.
I wrap my arms around her as best I can with one in a sling, rocking her from side to side. “I will never be able to hug you like your mommy. No one will, and for that I’m so sorry. I wish I had some type of magic to fix this for you. I can promise this. You have so many people that love you. Whenever you need a hug and it starts to hurt too much. You just ask for a hug.”
“Can I ask you?” Jessica snuffles.
“Anytime,” I whisper fiercely.
“Daddy said mommy is in heaven. He said, God needed mommy for something special. Do you think she has wings?”
I have to swallow back my sob. “Oh, baby. I think your mommy has a great big pair of wings. I bet she has already made a bunch of friends too,” I croak out.
“Yeah, my mommy was a good friend,” Jessica says proudly. “I bet that’s why God needed her. To help others that need to make friends.”
I kiss her forehead and give her a wobbly smile. “You just might be right.”
“In that case, I won’t be so sad. They need my mommy. I have friends already,” Jessica looks down, then looks back at me with fresh tears. “But I do miss the way she smelled.”
“I can still smell her on her pillow,” a slightly slurred deep rumbling voice fills the room.
I look up to see LaSalle staring at me. His dark hair is rumpled and hanging in his forehead. His black dress shirt is untucked and partially unbuttoned showing off his tanned, chiseled chest. He looks a sexy mess.