“So why are you really here?” Anya asked lighting a cigarette.
Alex hadn’t know she even smoked. “I told you. I wanted to see how you were doing. Mishca—”
“Bah! Don’t speak his name in my presence. It’s all his fault I’m in this wretched hellhole anyway, him and that American bitch.”
Alex frowned at the vehemence she heard in Anya’s tone, not for Lauren—she could care less about her—but the way she talked about Mishca. It wasn’t his fault at all.
Deciding to change the subject, Alex presented her with the basket. “I didn’t know what to bring you, so I brought a little of everything. If there’s anything you want, I can get it for you.”
Sighing, Anya accepted, looking at it disdainfully as she dropped it on the island, uncaring of the glass bottles inside.
“I suppose I’m meant to thank you, no?”
Alex was too flabbergasted to even agree. She was just now realizing that some of Anya’s disgust was aimed at her as well, but she wasn’t ready to give up yet.
“How are you doing?”
“How do you think, stupid girl? Can you not see this deplorable apartment that I am being forced to live in. God, even dogs live better than this.”
“Is there—”
“Stop sniveling!”
Alex’s throat was tightening as tears threatened to fall. Never in her life had Anya treated her so coldly. At least not that she could remember, but Alex had weak spot where Anya was concerned.
“If you really want to do something for me, you’ll get rid of that girl.”
“Get rid—you want me to kill her.” She might have hated her, but she didn’t wish Lauren dead.
“It’s the least you could do after what you’ve done.”
“I-I can’t do that.” She didn’t think she had it in her to kill another person. “That would hurt Mishca. He’s my bro—”
Rearing her hand back, Anya landed an open-palmed slap to Alex’s face.
“What about me? Where is your loyalty? He’s not your brother. He should mean nothing to you.”
No tears would form despite the radiating pain in her face, nor could she think of anything to say. She could do no more than stand there, holding her palm to her cheek, staring at her mother.
“I should have gotten rid of you,” Anya spat angrily, ignoring the look on hurt on Alex’s face. “You’ve ruined me!”
Spinning on her heel, Alex walked out of her mother’s apartment, Anya’s insults carrying out with her. With the door slammed shut, and Alex alone once again, she crouched down, glad for the dim light so that anyone walking by wouldn’t notice her.
It was in this cold and dirty place that she allowed herself to cry for everything she had lost.
When she could cry no more, Alex wiped the tears away, grabbing the compact from her purse to hide any traces of her weakness.
She walked slowly back out to the car, remarking on how short and bitter the meeting with her mother had been. She also needed that time to get herself together, knowing that if she didn’t, Mishca would notice she’d been crying, and she didn’t want to think about what he would do if he saw it.
Back in the car, she buckled her seatbelt without a word, pasting a cheery smile on her face when she felt Mishca staring at her profile.
“How did it go?”
She looked over at him, noticing for the first time the differences in their appearances. She had never felt more distanced from him in her life.
He was the one that had taken her to the park when her mother was busy, bandaged her scrapes and cuts, offering words of wisdom on every little thing she asked of him.
“Fine.”
She didn’t care that he was not her brother.
In her heart, he always would be.
Lauren sighed in relief as she arrived home, exhausted from her night at work. She longed to just take a shower and go to sleep, but with a test tomorrow, she had to stay up for a few hours to study.
Letting herself into the building, Lauren headed upstairs, coming up short when she saw Mishca sitting in front of her door, his jacket lain across his lap. His tie was loosened, the top button of his shirt undone. His eyes were bloodshot, but he merely looked tired more than drunk.
“What are you doing out here?”
He gave a half smile, jerking his thumb back at the door. “Amber thought it would be best I wait out here. She wasn’t sure whether or not you wanted me here.”
“How long have you been here?” She asked pulling her keys from her purse.
Glancing down at his watch, he shrugged as he said, “Couple hours.”
Lauren bit back a smile, realizing that Amber had never sent her a message letting her know he was here. Maybe this was her way of punishing him.
Shifting on her feet, she asked, “Would you like to come in, or are you here for something else?”
He climbed to his feet, moving out of the way to let her past. “I came to see you.”
Nodding, Lauren unlocked the door, letting him pass her before she closed and locked the door behind them. The apartment was quiet, the light beneath Amber’s door off. Not bothering to turn on a light, Lauren led the way to her bedroom.
“Let me just take a quick shower then we can...talk.”
When he nodded, she left him in her room, taking a change of clothes into the bathroom. In the fifteen minutes she spent in the shower, she thought of what she would say and what he would possibly bring up.
She couldn’t think of what else there was to talk about, but she couldn’t bring herself to turn him away, not when she had been yearning to see him since that day at his club. That explosive conversation hadn’t brought her any closure, merely made her want him more.
She stood in front of the mirror, brushing her wet hair, pulling it up into a bun as she stared at her reflection. It was time for her to make a decision once and for all or else she would never be able to move on with her life.
Turning off the light in the bathroom, Lauren stared at her bedroom door, fiddling with the hem of her old T-shirt. She thought of the last time he had been in her room, a night of remembrance. He had held her, allowing her to cry out her pain about her father, a man he had secretly known.
Deciding not to go back to that place, Lauren took a deep breath, pushing the door open, pressing her back against it, and feeling the cool wood through her clothes.
Mishca was sitting at the edge of her bed, his suit jacket thrown across the back of the chair at her desk. He was staring out the open window, seeming to watch the rain patter against the windowsill. When his eyes found her, they swept over her, lingering on her bare legs for a fraction longer than necessary before moving up to her face.
At least she wasn’t the only one affected.
Pushing away from the door, she crossed the room, sitting on his opposite side at the top the of the bed, crossing her legs.
Only the sound of the falling rain filled the room, the noise once peaceful, but now it just added to the tension in the room. It was difficult being in the same room as him, like his presence took her breath away.
“I thought it was over,” Mishca began looking down at his hands. “When you left that day, I thought I would forget you and move on like I’ve done in the past.”
That…hurt, but she couldn’t fault him for feeling that way. She had believed the same thing.
“But no matter how hard I tried, you were the only thing on my mind.” He turned to face her, his eyes soft and sincere. “Words cannot express how sorry I am for what I said to you that day. I don’t think, in all this time, that I ever truly apologized.”
She shrugged, not wanting him to know how much that meant to her. “I understand how you felt.”
“But that still didn’t give me the right to hurt you, especially not with everything that was done to you.”
“I never meant to hurt Alex in the process,” Lauren said quietly. “I wasn’t thinking about her.”
He nodded, but that seem
ed like it was the furthest thing from his mind at the moment. “That still does not excuse my actions.”
“How did you know I was being brought in for questioning?” Lauren asked suddenly, remembering the expensive lawyer.
Mishca blinked at her.
Right, she forgot his family had connections in the NYPD.
“You didn’t have to do that though.”
“I did. With the…arrangement in place, I knew they would look at you as a suspect eventually. I needed to make sure you were protected.”
She didn’t know how to feel about that. Was she supposed to thank him? “Then it wasn’t a mugging,” she stated though it sounded more like a question.
“I can’t answer that, Lauren.”
That was all the answer she really needed. “I don’t understand. Why would he have…gotten mugged because of that?”
Mishca sighed, turning so he was facing her. “You have to understand, there are rules in my world. Rules in place to prevent the very thing that brought you to that room. For my father, it was a respect thing. They were brothers, not by blood, but by code. He broke that.”
“And for you?”
This time he met her gaze head on, refusing to look away. “Doc wasn’t just a physician to me. He was like the f—”
He cut off immediately, realizing too late what he’d been about to say. Lauren smiled, not entirely forced, nodding her head.
“You can say it.”
“He was like a father to me when my own was too busy in a world that I had no part in. He was honorable, more than any other man I have ever known.” Mishca shoved a hand through his hair, seeming anxious. “You have to understand, we are not all monsters. There are many, yes, but I like to believe I am not one of them. I would never condone taking a father from his family, especially not from you.”
A lump formed in her throat, tears pricking in her eyes. She didn’t speak for fear that she would break down.
“I know I am guilty by relation, but I’m begging you, please forgive me for what my family has done to you.”
That was all it took to make the tears fall. She reached for him, practically sitting in his lap as she wrapped her arms around his neck. When she felt his arms around her, she squeezed her eyes shut.
“I don’t blame you, Mish. Not anymore.”
They stayed like that for some time, lost in their embrace, but Lauren soon pulled back, though not leaving her place in his lap.
“What does this mean? I don’t think you just came here to apologize.”
“I meant what I said. I’m not giving you up.”
This time, she did crawl off his lap. “Mish—”
“Lauren.”
She hadn’t doubted it the first time he said it, but she really didn’t doubt it. He had that look in his eye, the one where he wasn’t giving up without a fight.
“We can’t.”
“Why not? Is it not what you want?
“I didn’t say that. Before everything got…well before everything came out, we were happy, but I don’t know if we can make it work now.”
“Again, why not?”
It was such a simple question, but the answer was far more complicated. “Because our families will never accept it. Your father—”
“Is no longer a problem.”
He said it with so much conviction that she believe, but he wasn’t the only problem. “And Alex hates me.”
“She’ll come around.”
“And Ross is a detective,” she argued still.
“Retired.”
“You’ve been keeping tabs on me?”
Signature smile.
Rolling her eyes, she asked, “Why aren’t you worried? We—”
Mishca grabbed her, pulling her forward until he could mesh his lips with hers, easily making her forget her argument for the time being. She was so used to him being a gentleman all the time that she was surprised by the raw passion she felt as he easily coaxed her to accept what he was giving.
By the time he pulled back, gazing at her, she was holding onto him.
“You’re all that matters to me. If I have you, that’s all I need.” She tried to draw away, but he held fast, blue eyes trained on her. “The only thing I want to know is whether you feel this too.”
“But would I be enough?” She asked her fears finally spilling out of her. “We’re so different and I only know pieces of the world you’re involved in. I just…I don’t know.”
“Try. For me, please.” He cupped her cheek, forcing her attention on him. “I would do anything to prove to you that this—” he gestured to himself, to one of the stars, “—is not all who I am.”
She could see it in his eyes, the thought at the tip of his tongue. He would give it all up if she asked it of him, but how could she demand that of him? If she were going to accept him, work to make their relationship work, she knew she had to accept every part of him, not excluding the parts she didn’t agree with.
“You,” she said before he could say the words. “I just want you, Mish.”
That was all the confirmation he needed. Instead of pulling her to him, he came to her. As he loomed over her, she fell back against the pillows, her breath catching as he came down for another kiss. This one was far more controlled as he took his time exploring her mouth, gently biting at her bottom lip.
Her hands found the front of his shirt, feeling the muscles in his abdomen flex beneath the material. Without thinking, she pulled his tie free, dropping it over the side of the bed. His hands slipped beneath her shirt, his fingers sliding over her heated skin, spanning over her stomach to the curve of her hip where he squeezed possessively, pulling her into him.
Lauren wanted to remember why this was a bad idea, but he overwhelmed all of her senses, leaving her aching for his touch.
They were content with that, but something snapped inside them both, making them desperate to get each other’s clothes off. It was easy enough slipping Lauren’s shirt over her head, but they had to slow down to unbutton Mishca’s shirt, both fumbling with the buttons.
Never in her life had she hated buttons more.
“Hey L, Mishca was—oh, sorry!”
Lauren shot up, shoving Mishca to the side as Amber quickly slammed the door back shut, her soft laughter carrying through the door. Covering her face with her hands in embarrassment, she could just imagine the smile on Amber’s face.
“Glad you decided to make up!” She called out, her feet echoing on the floors until she disappeared to the other side of the apartment.
Mishca was on his back laughing up at the ceiling. In the short time that he had been here, he already looked better, more lively.
Groaning, Lauren looked to him. “Maybe later?”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
Clearing her throat awkwardly, Lauren laid back, turning so she was facing him. “If we’re going to do this, I have to know some things.”
It had been on her mind, what his job was specifically in the Bratva. She would be lying if she said she didn’t want to know the details. Everything she had read online seemed terrifying, but she had never seen Mishca acting like what she had researched. In fact, she had never met any of the men he was in charge of although she knew he had to have soldiers.
Rubbing his jaw, he said, “I’ll answer what I can.”
“What do you do…exactly?”
Smiling, he answered, “I own a club.”
“And…”
“That’s it.”
She smirked. “But you’re a Captain, right?” She tapped one of the stars on his chest. “Shouldn’t you have minions that are shaking down business owners.”
“And you complain of Susan watching too much television.”
She giggled. “I think that’s a valid question.”
“To put it simply, I do a little bit of everything.”
“Have you ever killed someone?”
“Plausible deniability,” he said and she didn’t ask him to answer. She did
n’t think she really wanted the answer.
Moving on. “Since you’re like a Captain, do you have people that you rule over?”
“Not in so many words. There are men that follow my direction, yes.”
“How many?”
“Scores.”
“And they all just follow you?” She asked, snapping her fingers as she said, “Just like that.”
“Some yes, others just follow the stars.”
Meaning the twin eight-point stars on his chest. They were tattooed in faded black ink. She couldn’t even remember what answer he had given her when she asked him what they meant.
“What—”
“We have plenty of time for questions, moya globushka.”
The endearment made her smile. She missed it more than she knew.
She settled closer to him, resting her head on his chest, closing her eyes. “I’m glad you’re back, Mish.”
And just like that—besides Amber and Rob—things were back to how they had once been. Mishca came over for Friday night dinners when he wasn’t busy with his obligations.
As Amber popped her head in, Lauren slammed her laptop shut, staring up guiltily though she tried for the life of her to look innocent. Sadly, she didn’t get a chance to mute it, so Amber heard the last few seconds of the flick she was watching.
Looking amused, Amber asked, “Should I come back later?”
Clearing her throat—trying to will the blush staining her cheeks away—Lauren said, “Nope, what’s up? Did you need something?”
“I was going shopping, thought you might want to come…unless of course you’re hoping to be alone.”
“Okay, shut up,” Lauren said over her laughter. “I was trying to get some tips.”
“Tips?”
“Well…yea.”
“Seriously?”
Huffing out a breath, Lauren quickly explained her predicament. “I wanted to surprise Mish with a weekend to ourselves and I’m pretty sure we’re going to…well you know.”
Until the End Page 8