by J. A. Coffey
Chapter Eleven
Mik rushed into the living room cradling something bundled under his t-shirt and the gun in his free hand. "I want you to learn something from this, okay?"
Her heart drummed in her chest with fear as she looked at the spot where the object remained hidden under his shirt. It took a minute to process his words. When she finally did, she instinctively widened her eyes, asking, "Yeah?"
"If you hear something, check it out. If it's a person out to get you and you don't kill them first, they'll kill you." The thing in his shirt moved.
"Okay." She took a step backward. Had Mikolas just murdered someone?
"I'm sure you're a big target since your father runs a crime family so always try to remember that." The thing moved around more.
"Thanks for scaring the shit out of me, Mik. Much appreciated." She looked back at the round thing he was hiding. "What did you find out there? I didn't hear any fighting."
He laughed. "You'll like it, I'm sure." He reached under his shirt and took out a white kitten. "She's freezing."
The kitten blinked up at her as she let out a soft meow. Gabrielle took it out of Mik's hands and held the wet kitten against her chest. The precious little thing made the tension roll off Gabrielle. "But we are in the middle of no-where. Where did it come from?"
"Probably from another vacation home out here. She got out and couldn't find her way home before the snow began. This cabin can't be the only one on the mountain. What do you want to name her?"
"Icy"
"Nice name."
Gabrielle looked over at Mik in time to see him peel his wet t-shirt off of his skin and lift it over his head, revealing the perfect mixture of tan, toned muscle. He toed off his shoes and perched them against the bricks of the fire place even though the fire had gone out long ago. She let her gaze travel down the length of his body, settled on the round shape of his butt. She gulped back desire and reminded herself that they were just friends.
"Can I take the candle in the other room, so you can undress in privacy?" She snuggled the kitten but kept her gaze on him.
Motioning toward the bedroom, he said, "Go back to bed. I'll be in there in a minute." His muscles tightened as he bent into the fireplace to restart the fire. "Make sure the kitten stays under the quilt so she'll dry."
"But I need the candle." How could she tell him? The truth stayed glued to the tip of her tongue.
"I need extra light for a minute. Wait in here until I'm changed and have the fire started," he said.
"But I don't want to be out here when you undress." Only because she didn't think she'd be able to keep her hands off of him. She found it hard enough to do with him being shirtless. Leaning her hip against the chair, she sighed.
The fire slowly started to burn, sending a glow in the living room, he stood up and flicked the button of his wet pants. Her thighs grew warm as she watched him push the pants over his hips and then his thighs. Her nipples puckered against the thin tank top as the pants dropped down to the floor, landing in a bunch around his bare feet. The kitten she held against her chest helped hide her obvious arousal brought on by the white boxer-briefs contouring around every curve of his lean thighs and butt.
As he grabbed the clean pair of pants, his eyebrows furrowed as he glanced up at her. "You confuse me."
Her breath caught in her throat. "What-what do you mean?" She wanted to snap her gaze from the bulge in his underwear but couldn't take her eyes off him. Her cheeks flushed as she moved her stare from his package, up over his chest, and let it settle on his face.
"You make me come here, ask if I am attracted to you but would rather freeze in order to sleep alone. Now you don't want to be alone at night but don't want to be in the same room as me while we are awake." He clasped his hands around his hips as he stared at her.
Even though he didn't seem mad, shame heated her cheeks. Gabrielle looked down at the floor and then at Mik. "You're right. I have been acting a bit weird." She was sorry, but it was the only way to fight off the craving she had gnawing at her every second she was around him. If she could just touch him, love him then the ache would go away, and she'd be fine. He clouded her brain, messed up her judgment, and made her pulse race.
"Then stop fucking around with me, Gabi. You're a woman and I'm a man. Why is it so hard to see me in my underwear?" His hand shot up in the air in frustration. "It's not like it's the first time you've ever seen a man."
She flushed and turned away for a minute. Her gaze turned icy as she stared at him again. "You said we should only be friends. Why should I gawk at you in your tighty-whities when nothing can ever happen with us?"
He rubbed his hands over his eyes and then down his cheeks. The creases in his forehead disappeared as he straightened his face out. He actually looked shocked with his mouth hanging open. "I said we should start off as friends. You came to the decision of only friends all on your own, sweetheart."
"I'm going to bed." She snatched the candle from where he had set it on the mantle and spun on her heel. The kitten snuggled closer to her chest as she longed for the electricity to come back on.
"I'm sleeping in my tighty-whities whether you like it or not." The words he called out to her followed her into the bedroom and if the dark didn't bother her so much, she would've shut the door behind her to put a stronger barrier between them. At the moment, it would only take one touch from him to break through the last of her resolve.
*****
Mikolas held the gun straight out as the bullet whizzed into the guy's chest like a savage beast, soaking his white wife-beater in bright red blood. It was his first kill and it amazed him how such a small piece of lead could rip someone apart.
Tucking the gun back in his pocket, he turned to leave, but there she stood. Piercing blue eyes, a mound of light blond curls that made her look like an angel, and a nightgown reaching her small feet.
"What's wrong with my daddy?"
Panic filled Mik. His hands shook as the severity of the situation crashed down on him. He'd checked out this hit thoroughly before coming here. The Mark was supposed to be alone tonight and he didn't know how to answer the little girl's question. Was there someone else here, too?
"Where's your mommy?"
The little girl kept her teary eyes on her dead father. "At work, so I'm with my dad." Tears welled up in her eyes and quickly spilled down her freckled cheeks.
"Is there anyone else here?" He walked over to the little girl and got down on one knee.
Mikolas jumped up from the bed, his heart pounding in his chest. Sweat dripped off his forehead even though the temperature had dropped in the room. He ran his fingers through his damp hair.
Why did the dream have to come again? Wasn't having the dream for the past five years enough? He'd hoped it wouldn't have happened here. At the very least, the dream could hold off until he returned home alone, so he could sweat and panic in private. Not with Gabi snuggled in bed beside him. He glanced over at her, the only response she gave him was her gentle breaths slipping between her lips. Good. He hadn't woken her.
He pushed the blanket off him and climbed out of the bed, being extra careful not to disturb her or the kitten she cuddled with. One more glance back to her as he tiptoed toward the bedroom door. If the dream hadn't of rattled his nerves so bad, he would've stopped to admire her peaceful beauty as she slept. But not right now. His angry thoughts would taint the image. He ran his trembling hand through his hair again as he pulled the chair over to the window.
The dream wasn't a figment of his imagination. The event had really happened and wasn't the only one haunting him regularly. Every person he'd ever killed came back to him in his dreams but the one with the blue-eyed child came more often and always shook him worse. It was torture and he didn't know a soul he could discuss it with. Mikolas needed to do something to fix this. Even if it meant giving up the role of hitman. But for now, he needed another vice before those deep blue eyes burned in his memory drove him insane.
&n
bsp; If Mikolas smoked, he would have gone through a carton of cigarettes tonight. If he drank, he would've downed the entire bottle. He did neither of those, so he pulled the book out and began to read in an attempt to erase the images from his mind.
He had made it through three chapters when he heard Gabi move around on the bed. A moment later, she shuffled into the living room and sat down on the couch.
"What's wrong?" she asked, leaning her head against the arm of the couch. Her eyes peered up at him and damn she looked gorgeous.
His heart beat faster at the question. "Couldn't sleep."
Her eyes narrowed as if she didn't believe him. "Sure," she mumbled.
He shifted his gaze back to the opened book on his lap and took a deep breath. Why couldn't he tell her? She probably would try to comfort him which he would love to happen but that wasn't the problem. When he told her about the nightmares and explained the after effects of them, he'd have to tell her what caused them. He couldn't do that.
"Mik, I'm here for you if you want me to be." She rose from the couch and turned her back to him.
He didn't want her to go. Her presence, even though only for a short time, had been a comfort to him. A comfort he'd never experienced before in his life, mostly due to not ever allowing any woman to sleep with him for the entire night. Gabrielle was different though. He wanted her to be there, to hold his hand and tell him that he would be fine.
"Gabi? Don't go." The words were enough to stop her from disappearing out the living room. He waited until she nestled herself on the couch again. "I'll tell you what's wrong. Maybe it'll help."
She slowly nodded her head. "It probably will."
"I might lose you either way so I might as well." He pulled the chair back where it belonged so that he could face her fully. "Do you know what my job is?"
She shook her head. "I asked, but you wouldn't tell me."
"I am a..." He hated the last word. The meaning. Everything it implied. "A hitman. And what do you think that means?"
Her cheeks flushed as she stared at him, her top row of pearly white teeth nibbled her bottom lip. "I need you to tell me everything, Mik."
Would she want to go back once she found out? Would she be scared of him? "I kill people for money." The words came out cold and heartless even to him. But he did care. He regretted every murder he'd ever done the past five years. His hands started trembling again.
"No." She shook her head as if one simple word could erase the truth. If only it was that easy. "I don't believe you. Mikolas Russo could never take a man's life."
"Yes, Gabrielle, I do." He stood from the chair and walked over to the window to avoid witnessing the sadness in her eyes another moment. He watched the snow falling outside the window. "It goes to show how little we actually know about it each other."
"But you only kill people trying to hurt you or someone else in the Family. Right?"
"No. Some of them are just people who owe your dad money or have made him mad. Rarely is it for protection."
She gasped behind him. He fought the urge to go over to her and pull her into his arms in order to wash away the fear she was sure to feel now. After all, she was alone in a cabin with a killer.
"If you don't want anything to do with me now, Gabi, I understand. I don't want anything to do with myself half the time. A part of me dies with each person I kill."
"This doesn't make sense. You went to school to be a police officer. Did you change your mind after school?"
"There's so much you don't know and I shouldn't tell you, but I will because I've decided to leave anyway. In time, you'll know everything. Right now I want to go back to bed." His voice dropped while he filled with hope that she'd want to return to bed with him. He wasn't even sure if she'd heard him until she placed her hand on his shoulder and she kissed his bare back.
"I'm so sorry."
"You didn't cause any of this." He slid his hand over hers.
"Did you have a nightmare tonight?"
He nodded.
"Tell me about it." Damn she felt good. The way her sweet breath blew against his bare skin as she whispered the words, the way her hands comforted him with just a small touch, her body pressed against his back. Everything.
"You don't want to know what I have done."
"I do because it might make you feel better. I promise not to let it scare me away."
The words sounded good to his ears. He had wanted someone to actually care for so long. He wanted Gabi to be the one. He turned to her, sorry to have broken the physical contact between them. "I can't do that to you. Just having you here with me, caring about me helps more than you'll ever know."
"I'll be here for you whenever you need me."
"I don't deserve it."
She nodded, a strand of her dark hair fell over her bare shoulder. "You helped me tonight. I needed you there and you were trusting me when you didn't have to. I don't have the slightest idea of the reason why you have chosen to be a hitman for my father, but I know in my heart you are a good man."
Her gaze met his, but he glanced down when she nibbled on her bottom lip. His stomach tightened every damned time she drew his attention to her mouth, making him want to be the one tasting them. They had gone toe-to-toe with the line between friendship and lovers. He was ready to cross it. He put his hands on her bare shoulders and moved his mouth closer to hers. Just one kiss would point him in the right direction as far as the two of them were concerned.
A little meow came from the bedroom door, shattering the moment. Mikolas turned to find the kitten watching them. "I think she wants us to come back to bed. Grab the candle."
"Let's go then," she said as she let go of him.
He sighed as he picked up the kitten. He'd go to bed with Gabi any night of any week.
Chapter Twelve
Gabrielle didn't roll out of bed until daylight brightened the room. Soft snores continued to slip from Mik's lips. He was still in those sexy-as-hell boxer briefs. All night long, he'd nestled his body against hers, his bulge touching her ass. It almost drove her crazy with desire, not to mention taking every ounce of strength to not reach around and take that hard rod into her hand.
She turned her back to him, giving a quick glance over her shoulder before she slipped her shorts down her legs and kicked her moist panties off. She tossed them into the corner and took out a fresh pair. Good thing she brought several pairs of panties because she was sure she'd go through them all. Mik had a unique super power- the ability to keep her damp twenty-four-seven.
With a new pair and her sweatpants on, she left Mik sleeping peacefully as she went into the living room to build the fire. Her skin prickled and the tiny hairs on her body stood on end from the chill in the air. She didn't even want to think about her puckered nipples pressing against the flimsy fabric of her tank top. Good thing Mik was still sleeping.
Mik. The simple name sent her pulse pounding and her mind spinning. She still hadn't had time to absurd what little information he'd thrown at her last night. A hitman for her father? The very idea that he'd take anyone's life seemed so absorbed. After all, he'd just saved a kitten from freezing to death in the snow last night. Even though she should be afraid of him, she hadn't been for a second. After he'd shared that information with her, it felt like they had gotten even closer.
The growl from her stomach tore her from her thoughts and sent her into the kitchen to find something for breakfast. She flipped the light switch, hoping it would turn on. No luck. Who knew how long it would be out? They had to use the food before it spoiled. A quick idea came to her as she heard Mik, at least she hoped it was him, rummaging around in the bedroom.
A moment later the bedroom door swung open. "Ah, you got the fire started. It heats the place nicely." His voice filled the room with a low sexy rumble.
"It sure does. Hungry?" she asked, trying to ignore the fact he hadn't put any clothes on. "I'm working on breakfast."
"I don't have any clue how you're going to whip up something
edible for us." He leaned against the counter, every bulge of his body boldly pronounced. "But I'd love to help. Anything I can do?"
She kept her gaze focused on the potatoes she was peeling over the trash can as she debated asking him to get dressed. That would be a big help. Sure he was wonderful to look at, but her day would go a whole lot smoother if he'd put more clothes on. "I need you to find some sticks like what we'd use for roasting marshmallows or hot dogs."
"You got it." He turned and she took the opportunity to check out his ass until he disappeared around the corner into the bedroom.
Once out of view, she turned back to the task of chopping potatoes as she listened to him rooting around some more in the bedroom. Moments later footsteps made their way to the front door. Once the door shut, she let out a breath of relief.
She was finishing up the egg mixture when he arrived in the kitchen with two nicely sharpened long sticks in his hand. "Are these good?" he asked with a broad grin.
"They look great. How'd you do that?" She took the sticks from him and set them on the counter.
He shrugged his bare shoulders. "My knife."
She turned to him. "What? You have a knife?"
He shrugged again. "Sure. I'm a hitman. I'm always armed." He turned from her before she could reply.
He was always armed? That meant Mik could've taken her out at any time. Why hadn't he? She dumped the egg mixture into the thinnest pan she could find. Once the potato cubes were slid onto the sticks, she carried breakfast into the living room. "We'll need to clean out the fridge really soon if the electric doesn‘t come back on. Everything's nearly thawed out in the freezer."
"I can do that later. What do you have there?" He was sitting on the floor in front of the fire. Small puddles of water glistened in front of the door where it had once been bits of snow that had fallen off when Mik had come inside. He wore a pair of black sweats that hung too low on his hips, showing the waist band of those sexy boxers of his.
"Scrambled eggs and hash browns... camping style." She handed him the sticks. "Can you toast these over the fire, please?" Just then she realized she didn't even know if he liked eggs and potatoes. She had known him nearly her whole life but really didn't know what he liked, how the inside of his house is decorated, or even the name of his best friend. She was in love with a man she really didn't know. Could it even be possible?