Luka
I closed my eyes, breathing through the fucking anxiety pulsing through my body. This church was too big. Too many echoes and noises creaking through the old stone building. Everything was too strange without Kisa-Anna by my side. She anchored me. Made me feel somehow rooted to this strange outside world. A world I still didn’t understand … a world I wasn’t sure I ever would.
When I woke this morning to find her gone, I couldn’t move from my bed. She’d told me last night she would be leaving early to get ready, but waking on my own had me frozen in fear … transporting me back to the endless cold mornings in the Gulag, to the fucked-up days of my childhood … not knowing if that day would be my last.
Kisa kept me calm as she slept in my arms, threading her fingers through my hair, kissing along my neck. She kept the demons of the Gulag from getting inside my head. I needed her … I needed her to breathe, to live … to fucking be “Luka,” not 818 … not the death-match fighter … not Raze … but Luka Tolstoi … the heir to the Volkov Bratva … and the other half of Kisa’s soul.
My parents had tried to keep me from pacing the floor, from breaking into cold sweats … tried to make me sit still, but they couldn’t help.
I needed Kisa … I fucking needed her beside me.…
A gentle hand suddenly landed on my shoulder. Ripping away from the surprise touch, my arms flew up, bracing to fight, and I snapped my eyes open. My mama stood behind me, a blank expression on her face and an understanding look in her eyes. “It’s just me, my son,” she said softly. Sucking in a long deep breath, I let the tension leave my shoulders.
She isn’t a threat … she’s your mama … I told myself over and over again. My eyes darted around the small back room of the church for anyone else, but we were alone.
My mama stepped forward again, her palms held in front of her chest. “It’s time, Luka,” she said, her lips pulling into a timid smile. “Your Kisa will be arriving shortly. You’ll have her by your side in a matter of minutes.”
As her words sank into my mind, my heart began to slow in its rapid beat and the feeling of unease began to drain from my body.
She would be here soon … by my side … silencing the demons.…
“We need to wait at the altar. Father Kruschev is waiting.”
Rolling my neck from side to side, I met my mama’s eyes and nodded. I walked forward toward the door, when Mama abruptly stopped in front of me, blocking my way.
My eyebrows furrowed as I looked down at her aging face and I saw her eyes shine with unshed tears.
I had no idea why she was crying.
Reaching up, Mama began to fix the tie of my tuxedo. “It’s all crooked,” she said through a tight voice. “You could never keep yourself all straightened out. I was forever fixing your untucked shirts, polishing your scuffed dress shoes, or”—Mama looked up and smiled a weak smile, smoothing back my hair— “your unruly, messy hair.”
Seeing a tear fall down her cheek, I tilted my head to the side, lifted my hand to grip hers and brought it to my chest. “Mama…?” I asked and Mama shook her head.
“I’m being a silly woman. Getting too emotional … I’m just so sorry … I’m … I’m—”
“Mama?” I questioned again and, with my free hand, lifted her head up with my finger under her chin. “Why do you cry? I don’t understand? Are you not happy that I’m getting married?”
A sob slipped from Mama’s throat and she squeezed my hand, shaking her head. “Of course I am.… It’s just … seeing you like this. So broken by life,” she sniffed, “no calm in the storm … no reprise from your bad thoughts.… I don’t know how to make it better.…”
I frowned deeper because I knew the answer to that question. “I have my Kisa. She makes me better,” I said bluntly, and my mama held her breath for what felt like hours, her eyes gradually losing their sadness.
Her top lip curled into a small smile. “You do, my son. I thank God every day that you have found your soul mate. Kisa brought you back to us … she keeps you going.…”
Mama dropped her hands and stepped back, forfeiting her obvious pain to smile proudly. “You look so handsome, my son. The perfect Russian boy,” she reached up to smooth back the front of my hair again, “even if this hair of yours can never be tamed.” She stepped back again and wiped away a tear. “So, so handsome.”
I glanced down at myself, unsure what to say in response. I felt strange being in this suit. None of this shit made any sense to me … not one single bit. This whole wedding felt strange. I had had Kisa from the minute I’d seen her all those months ago. I was never leaving her again … but her papa had insisted that we get married in this church. He wanted things to be done right. As the Pakhan, no one questioned his wants.
Mama suddenly threaded her arm through mine and began leading me out into the main body of the church.
As we entered the altar, my papa and Father Kruschev smiled at my mama and me. Mama released me and walked toward my papa, but I stopped and looked around the huge church, the bright pictures of the holy saints all staring down at me with their serene faces.
My heart began to race again as I next snapped my attention at the empty pews. The church was so big, so empty and bare … I knew it should have been filled with hundreds of people. The Pakhan had wanted it that way, to honor his people with witnessing this day … but I couldn’t have our wedding any other way than empty. I couldn’t be around too many people. Word had spread of me returning to Brooklyn, bringing too many questions as to where I’d been, and that had brought me too much attention. Everyone in our society had been trying to see me for the last six months as I tried to be normal … tried to heal. They all wanted to see the fucking freak show. They wanted to see the monster I’d become … that was why they wouldn’t be here today.
Kisa had insisted on it.
There would only be me, Kisa, Talia, Mama, Papa and the Pakhan attending this wedding. I knew nobody here on the outside world anyhow. Nobody mattered to me but my Kisa and our families.
And after today, Kisa’d be mine … completely mine.
A hand clamped on my shoulder. Turning my head, I saw my papa, and he nodded his head. “She’s here, son.”
Releasing a pent-up breath, I followed my father to the altar and stared at the wooden doors, willing them to open.
Music began playing from somewhere upstairs. I didn’t know what song it was; I didn’t care. I could only look at the doors, waiting for the moment my solnyshko stepped through, giving me that sense of home.
Every muscle was taut as my papa came to stand by my side. He would be Koumbaros, my best man.…
A quick flash of 362’s face flickered through my mind as I thought of my only friend, bringing with it that usual sense of devastation. He should have been my best man … he was my best friend.… I pushed the painful memory aside and focused on my future wife, who was about to stand by my side.
Nothing would ruin this day.
Glancing down, I saw that my hands were shaking. Inhaling deep, I clasped my hands together just as the music switched songs, and the wide wooden doors at the back of the church began to open.
My eyes fixed on the slice of daylight spilling between the doors, when suddenly, Talia, my sister, walked through, smiling wide as her eyes fixed on mine.
Everything stopped as I focused on movement behind Talia, and like a ray of sunshine bursting through a darkened sky, my Kisa-Anna reached the top of the aisle, holding on to her papa’s arm.
Any traces of anger, confusion and pain I felt faded away to vapor as soon as Kisa came into view. She stole my breath as she strode toward me, her slim figure looking perfect in the long white lace dress.
My hands itched to hold her and I had to do everything in my power not to run down the aisle and wrap her up in my arms … to feel her touch … to help me believe all this was real.
My papa’s hand gripped onto my arm, holding me in place. I could feel his huff of a laugh as he fought to keep me still.
As Kisa approached the altar, I watched her downcast eyes lift up through the material of the heavy veil, the bright blue of her irises immediately clashing with mine.
A wave of peace washed through me and I felt like I could breathe again … I fucking felt like I could breathe for the first time since she’d left my bed this morning. No iron fist choking my lungs, twisting my stomach … just … peace.
Father Kruschev indicated for me to move forward to take Kisa’s hand from her papa. I moved as quickly as I could, stopping as I reached Kirill Volkova, my Pakhan.
He watched me move toward his daughter with a smirk upon his face and his assessing eyes tight. With an air of unapproachable arrogance that I was becoming familiar with, Kirill turned to Kisa and slowly lifted her veil.
I sucked in a breath as her perfect face was revealed … she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
Familiar blue eyes snapped to mine, and a loving smile spread on her full pink lips. I heard the echo of sobs behind us, but I couldn’t move from my Kisa to see who was crying.
Kirill cupped Kisa’s cheeks and she broke my gaze and glanced to her papa with tearful eyes. Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to her forehead and silently stepped back.
Kirill held out Kisa’s hand for me to take, and I didn’t hesitate in pressing her palm against mine, but not before shaking hands with her father.
As his steady, strong hand gripped mine, he said, “Take care of my baby, Luka. I’m trusting you to protect her.”
I was shocked still at the unfamiliar show of affection by the always-cold Bratva boss, but I nodded my head with nothing but certainty. “Nothing will ever happen to her, sir. She’s my everything … she’s the reason I live … breathe … exist. She’s my entire world. There’s no safer place for her than being beside me.”
The Pakhan’s face softened and he curtly nodded his head. As he moved away, I took my place by my solnyshko’s side and fought the ghost of a smile that was pulling on my lips … she was here … she was finally becoming mine.
Kisa’s arm pressed against mine and she whispered only for me, “I have never been so happy as I am right now, standing beside you. I have never been so in love as I am right now, only minutes away from becoming your wife.”
Exhaling a shuddering breath at her words, I lifted our joined hands and brushed the back of her hand across my lips.
Father Kruschev stepped forward, fighting a smile, and began the ceremony. It was a traditional Russian Orthodox service … and it was long … but I absorbed every second, thanking the Lord over and over that I got this chance … that my Kisa recognized me when I’d lost who I was … that she’d pulled me from my hell … that she’d never given up on the fucked-up man I was now, day by day striving to put me back together.
As the betrothal rings were exchanged and our candles were lit … as our hands were bound by the priest’s cloth and our crowns were placed upon our heads … and as we drank from the common cup and circled the table, I felt the constant states of pain and sadness within me melt away.
And as the blessings were read and Na Zisete was called by our witnesses, my heart felt full with nothing but love for my solnysko … the woman that brought me home … the woman that brought me back to life.
Father Kruschev led us down the aisle and out of a side exit of the church—a private garden just for us. He kissed us farewell, giving us a moment without our family and finally … finally … left us alone.…
Left me alone with my wife.
The cold winter wind whipped around Kisa and me, and the world seemed to fade away until all I could see and feel was us. Tears filled Kisa’s blue eyes as she looked up at me, pressed her palm to my cheek and smiled so brightly that she almost blocked out the sun.
Then she spoke two words on a sigh that squeezed my fucking heart. “At last…”
I sucked in a stuttered breath at the overwhelming expression of happiness on her face and backed her against the wall. Kisa gasped as I caged her against the cold stone of the church. Leaning down, I moved forward and pressed my lips against hers, the immediate taste of her tongue filling my mouth.
On a breathy moan, Kisa’s hands found the skin of my stomach under my jacket and shirt. My cock grew steel-hard as her fingernails raked my abs and I broke away on a pained groan.
My hands clenched into fists as I breathed hard, fighting the urge to take her here, out in the open, right up against the side of this church. But when those blue eyes collided with mine once more, all I felt was a new truth hit home … she was all mine.…
Officially all mine …
Kisa, my solnysko, my life … was now my wife … her soul was now soldered to mine … and we never had to spend another day apart.
“Lyubov moya?” Kisa’s soft voice broke through my thoughts. “What’s going on in that head of yours? Talk to me.”
I drank in her beautiful face and lifted my hands to run my fingertips over her full lips. Kisa’s eyes fluttered closed as I journeyed my fingers across to her high cheeks and down along her slender neck, only to reach down and feel her wedding ring now forever on her finger.
“Baby?” she asked again and, this time, a disbelieving smile appeared on my face.
Kisa’s breath hitched at the rare sight of my smile and, swallowing, I said, “I have you … I finally have you as mine.…”
Tears spilled over Kisa’s eyes and ran down her cheeks. “Yes, baby. You have me … always … in this life and the next and whatever comes after that.”
My heart thundered in my chest and I whispered, “I love you, solnyshko. You’re the only reason I’m here.”
“Luka … I love you too, baby. More than anyone has ever loved anyone else before.”
“I need to take you home. I need to be inside you … as a husband is to his wife. I need to feel your naked body against mine … I need to release myself inside you … I want you full with my child.”
Kisa cried out in happiness and pressed her forehead against mine. “Then take me home, lyubov moya. To our home. Make me yours in every possible way … at long last … knowing we both now have each other for eternity.”