chapter Twenty-Two
Here to Help
Monique
I don’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed that I haven’t seen LaSalle since he rushed out the room this morning. I can still feel the tingle of his hands on my body. I’ve tried to distract myself with writing and playing with the kids, but it’s a lost cause.
I never knew a simple touch could be so explosive. I keep thinking about how large his hand felt on me. My breast fit into his palm perfectly, and the feel of his hand cupping my mound. His fingers thrusting into places that no one has been before.
He’s right. Misha needs to go, or I do. When I couldn’t distract myself with writing and playing kick ball in the backyard, I decided to start looking for jobs in Arizona.
“What are you doing, Moj malen’kij kotenok?” Misha breathes over my shoulder, then bites into an apple.
I slam my laptop shut. I hadn’t heard him come into the study. LaSalle has the most comfortable wing back chairs here in this room. I came in here to think and make a plan.
“I’m not your kitten,” I snap. “Mind your own damn business.”
Misha saunters his long body over to the other chair. He sits down like he owns the place. I roll my eyes and start to collect my things to leave.
“Don’t go, Tasha,” Misha says softly. “I want to talk.”
I turn to narrow my eyes at him. He never wants to just talk, he is always in my ear with some dirty shit. Suggesting what he wants to do to me when he gets me away from LaSalle.
“I promise. Just talk,” Misha says in a voice I remember.
My heart squeezes for the friend I once thought I made. I nod slowly, careful not to lead this man on like my sixteen-year-old self once had. I didn’t know better then. I’d like to think I’m a little wiser now.
He nods at my shoulder. “How is shoulder? You ready to shoot,” his lips turn up in a smile.
“Czar’s taking me to get new pistols,” I shrug.
Misha throws his head back and laughs. “Good, I will pay for ones my men disposed of.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “What do you want, Misha?”
“You love LaSalle. You look at him and I see. I still think you two tell me half-truth, but you love him,” Misha says, sounding wounded. “I loved your sister. I see how much, too late. She looked at me same way you look at LaSalle.”
I sigh and my shoulders sag, losing some of the tension. “Misha, when you’re not being an ass, you’re easy to love. I loved you as a friend. I never meant to hurt you. I didn’t know those weren’t the type of feelings you had for me.”
“Why not tell me that,” Misha growls.
“You didn’t give me a chance to. You were hell bent on what you wanted. I was sixteen and scared out of my mind,” I yell back. “Think about the shit I watched you do in front of me, Misha. You busted that one guy’s face for letting your own father in your home. I was terrified of you.”
“You,” Misha points his fingers at me, while having a death grip on his apple. “Never had to fear me. I would have done anything for you. I, to this day, have done things that are not me, for you.”
Tears spill over and I nod. “I’m sorry, Misha. I’m sorry if I hurt you, but I was a girl.”
He looks away from me. “I don’t think I loved her because she looked like you. That was bullshit I told myself because I did love her. I have little girl and I don’t know what to do now. This,” he points to me than him. “It has to end. LaSalle is better man for you. He is going to fuck this up, but he is better man.”
I look at Misha long and hard. I don’t know if this is some trap, so I’m cautious. When I look at him I see his ice blue eyes look tired. His face has even aged some in the last six months.
“What makes you think he’s going to fuck this up?” I ask cautiously.
Misha shrugs and settles back in his seat. “He is in love with you, too, but he is letting Baba Yaga ride his back.”
“Bugimen,” wrinkle my brow.
“Da, boogeyman, is Sam’s worse enemy. He fears LaSalle because LaSalle is Baba Yaga. Uri, Logan, and I are three horsemen, but LaSalle is father of death. He is face no one sees, but everyone fears. If Sam allows LaSalle to roar, there will be no more Sam. His love for you does not want you to be eaten by his darkness,” Misha snorts and slides forward in his chair.
He leans into me, drawing me forward in my seat. “He does not know Tasha. He does not know Baba Yaga lives inside of you, too. You hide her well. This,” he waves his hand in my direction. “This is not little kitten I remember. Where is fire I know?”
He tilts his head at me as he studies me. I let his words sink in and filter through them. More tears spill over. I shake my head.
“I don’t know,” I choke out. “She’s broken.”
“Why?”
I look Misha in the eyes. “Because I broke her. I didn’t want her.”
“But LaSalle needs her. Blood is coming for the man you love. It has been quiet, but the quiet is before storm, Da?”
“Yeah,” I nod.
“Time to get ready, my friend,” Misha smiles at me. “Time, I remind you of killer I built.”
“But why are you doing this?” I ask, as I wipe the tears from my chin.
“You and LaSalle are only family I trust. You give me and my treasure a home,” Misha says softly. “You give her mother, I cannot.”
“What about Aunt Faina and Czar?”
“Faina and I have things to work out. She knows things that she’s kept from me. I have not forgiven her yet,” Misha shrugs. “Czar, Czar has own demons to chase. I give him space for now.”
“You have Val,” I smirk.
Misha rubs his shoulder. “She is trigger happy. We limit our time together for reason,” Misha smirks and I burst into laughter.
“Misha,” I say softly.
“Yes, Kotenok,” he murmurs.
“The Boogeyman, uh?” I ask and bite my lip.
“The Devil himself,” Misha smiles.
“That’s a lot coming from you,” I mutter.
Misha throws his head back and laughs. It is good to see him laughing. Now what does this mean for everything else. I rub my temples, not sure what just happened.