The Final Hour

by London Miller

  “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he whispered. “I should have done better for you.”

  She shook her head against his chest, not because she thought he had done anything wrong, but because she understood what he was saying to her. He didn’t want her to feel guilt for what she had done, and in true Mishca fashion, he felt like it was his fault.

  What he didn’t understand was that he couldn’t save everyone.

  She was already lost, and had been for a long time.

  Luka interrupted their moment, whistling low. Mishca drew back from her, but he didn’t go far, staying close as he looked to see what Luka had wanted. He gestured to the door with a tilt of his head, hearing something neither of them could. Vlad seemed to hear it too, stepping just behind the vicinity of the door, his gun at the ready, but he needn’t have worried.

  It was only Mikhail.

  It had never surprised Alex that he always seemed to know when to appear at the most inopportune times. She might not have felt fear that Mishca would be angry at her actions, but she did when it came to Mikhail.

  Alex could count on one hand how many times they had actually spoken since they had found out about Viktor, and that wasn’t without her trying to reach out to him.

  He came into the apartment without a word, his officers probably waiting outside, looking around at each of them before finally resting on Anya. Alex wished she had stayed behind Mishca so she wouldn’t have seen the satisfied smirk on his face.

  Alex knew Mishca hated Anya with a passion, yet he at least had the decency to conceal his delight at her death from Alex.

  Now, the change she had been expecting from Mishca came over him.

  “Luka,” Mishca called, his tone chillingly cold. “Take her.”

  She wanted to protest against that, really wanting to be alone, but neither of them would let that happen.

  “Should she not answer for what she has done?” Mikhail asked, gesturing out at Anya with his hand, though he looked like he could care less that she was dead.

  “If she does, she answers to me, and that won’t be tonight. Luka.”

  Alex stepped around Mishca, walking towards he door without waiting for Luka to lead the way.

  The worst part? Mikhail wouldn’t even look at her. It didn’t matter that she was an innocent in the entire matter of Anya and Viktor. It didn’t matter that she had taken care of a problem that was threatening the life of one of his Captains. Since she was the product of a betrayal against him, she was just as guilty as Anya and Viktor in his eyes.

  “Hang on.”

  Alex stopped, turning her shattered expression into one of indifference when she turned back to look at Luka, the only one of them she wasn’t afraid to look at for fear of what his expression may be. She could never explain it, but there was something about him that made her pay attention.

  Maybe it was the way he made a point to make other people view him as mad when in all honesty, he was one of the smartest guys she knew. He portrayed the idiot well, but when situations grew dire, she recognized the change in him, how he could easily command a room without a second thought.

  Maybe they had one thing in common—hiding who they truly were on the inside.

  Tonight, there were two plaits braided into his blonde hair at the temples, the look oddly suiting him. Unlike the last time she had seen him when he appeared to be trying to get away from her as fast as possible, tonight he looked like he was in control again.

  “Places to go,” Alex replied simply with a shrug of her shoulder. “I need to leave.”

  “You can wait for me.”

  She frowned, her anger the easiest emotion to summon at the moment. “I don’t have time for this, Luka. Go find your hole.”

  A dangerous light entered his eyes as he grabbed her arm, guiding her down the hall. “Don’t make me throw you over my shoulder. You remember how well that went, no?”

  Yep, she would never forget the day he took her to the safe house.

  He didn’t seem to notice that she was butt naked, glaring over at him. No, she was wrong. He did notice and he wasn’t shy about perusing her body either. But that was the thing though, she wasn’t going to shy away from him, maybe before her world had been rocked and she’d had to grow a thick skin quickly, but not now. If he wanted to look, so be it.

  Truthfully, she wouldn’t have been that calm if it were anyone else. Luka made it easy for her. Majority of the time, the men Mishca sent for her looked through her, treated her like she was precious glass, but Luka seemed to see her as a person.

  After several moments of memorizing every inch of her body, Luka finally tore his gaze from her, instructing her to get dressed as he waited for her to finish. He might have tried to hide his reaction from her, but from what she could see by the way he swallowed and mumbled beneath his breath, she affected him.

  Alex took her time getting dressed, ignoring the sound of Luka’s loud sighing outside her room, though it did make her smile. Since he had been such an ass about it, she took her time, not caring that he was getting more agitated by the second.

  She was just grabbing her hoes when he threw the door open, grabbing her and carrying her kicking and screaming out the door. Even when they got to the safe house, the gate locked behind them, he still made it a point to carry her inside, making her feel like an idiot.

  Yet inside, she was elated.

  “Fine,” she said snapping back to the present.

  She allowed him to drag her away. The silence was welcome, the night air cooling her heated skin, but Luka didn’t seem content with that as they arrived at his car. Instead of opening the door for her, he caged her against it, his arms on either side of her.

  “It’s going to eat at you,” Luka murmured. “Might not be today, but you’re going to feel that shit you did tonight and you’re not going to be able to deal.”

  “You would know from experience, right?”

  He smiled tightly. “Yes.”

  She didn’t actually think he would admit to it, but it made sense. Luka didn’t seem like the type of person to uselessly lie—stretch the truth perhaps, but not lie.

  They were so close that if she just titled her head up just a whisper, their lips would touch. Alex was practically shaking with the need to do it, to see if she would feel something by doing it or would he be like all the others that had crossed her path.

  All night, she had been all over the place. Anger. Sadness. Happiness. Even now, she was seeking an escape, knowing that what Luka was saying was true.

  “You want me,” Luka said, not arrogantly with a smirk, but curiously, as though the concept had never crossed his mind despite all of their encounters in the past.

  “Yes,” she whispered back before she could stop herself.

  The back of his scarred fingers came up to caress her cheek, pale eyes following the movement as though mesmerized.

  “I’d wreck you.”

  He pulled away from her, cold air hitting her chest instead. His rejection stung, but she wasn’t going to acknowledge it because when she did, when she acknowledged everything that happened this night, she would need something a lot stronger than alcohol to deal.

  It wasn’t too cold when Lauren opened the doors to sit out on the balcony, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Stars littered the night sky, no clouds obscuring their beauty. Really, it was a perfect night, but it was hard for her to find any beauty in it, not when she was constantly reminded of the ugliness of the world when she saw the scar on Mishca’s chest or the now haunted look in Alex’s eyes.

  While his scar was healing—and looked far better than it did when he was discharged from the hospital—she doubted Alex’s wounds would heal so easily.

  Lauren pulled her knees to her chest as she sat, closing her eyes as the wind blew in her hair. She couldn’t have been sitting out there for long when the doors opened.

  His gaze flew to her immediately as he stepped outside, in only a pair of lounge pants, his feet bar
e. Not bothering with grabbing anything, he came to her side, motioning for her to sit forward so he could climb on the chair behind her. She attempted to pull the blanket off and give it to him, but he stopped her, wrapping his arms around her middle.

  “The cold doesn’t bother me.”

  She was stiff, trying to hold her weight off of him while leaning back against him at the same time. “Should I be laying on you?”

  He sighed. “You worry too much.”

  Mishca didn’t give her the chance to move away any further, tugging slightly until she was resting fully against him. If she concentrated on everything else, ignoring the feel of the scar against her skin, she could almost imagine that everything was okay.

  “Talk to me,” he whispered next to her ear, and as though he couldn’t help himself, he kissed the spot just below it.

  “I thought I could handle it, knowing the truth about what you were dealing with everyday.” She shrugged. “I don’t think I can anymore.”

  His hold tightened for a moment, like he was afraid of what she might be saying, but when she rested her hands on his arms, he relaxed. “I never wanted this for you. I want you to be happy.”

  “I am happy, when I’m with you.”

  “I can’t tell you not to worry for me, you will anyway, but if I was ever in any real danger, you will know. I give you my word.”

  Smiling, she squeezed the arm he had around her waist. “How’s Alex doing?”

  It had only been days since Mishca had told her about what Alex had done. She had tried calling, but Alex hadn’t answered besides sending a text saying she was fine. Lauren couldn’t imagine what Alex was going through, but did wish that she could help.

  “She only tells me she’s fine. I’ve apologized for the way I acted, tried to be there for her since Anya…but I think I’m the last person she needs to see at the moment. Luka volunteered to look after her until I can get her to come around.”

  “Good.”

  While it seemed to escape Mishca’s mind, it was clear enough to Lauren that Luka cared for Alex, and she didn’t think there was anybody else that could help her the way he could. But she didn’t think that Mishca would approve of him with Alex, not with how protective he was over her.

  She only hoped that it wasn’t too late to help Alex.

  “I need you to promise me something,” Mishca said suddenly, his eyes intent on her face.

  “Anything.”

  “Promise to trust me. Promise that you will let me decide what’s important for you to know. Can you do that for me? And I promise to keep the ugliness of my job out of our home.”

  Lauren thought about it, living in that world of blissful ignorance. She knew that she would probably think of the worst possible scenario when in reality, it was nowhere near as bad.

  She could accept leaving it as just a thought.

  “Yes, I’ll trust you.”

  “Good. Now, are you done worrying?” When she nodded against him, he kissed her forehead. “Then come back to bed.”

  Smiling against his cheek, she looped her arms around his neck. “You never did carry me over the threshold, you know.”

  Chuckling, he placed an arm beneath her legs, easily lifting her off her feet. He took his time carrying her over the threshold into their bedroom. In these moments, just short bouts of time, she remembered why it was all worth it.

  Watching her sleep had become a new past time for him, but this time, as he watched her chest rise and fall, he wasn’t filled with content. Mishca was respected when he met with people he did business with. His name alone struck fear in men twice his age. If he couldn’t protect the one person that meant the most to him, then what did all of that matter?

  What Mikhail had said was true. Loved ones brought a risk, but what he failed to realize was, it was just as much a risk to Mishca as it was to Lauren. And frankly, Mishca was tired of the rules that governed his life.

  He had made his decision when Lauren accepted his name, and he was going to do right by her. The only way he could ensure a smile stayed on her face was to end the threats against them once and for all.

  He might not not have been able to forsake the vows he had taken to the Bratva all those years ago, but he would make damn sure his enemies wished he had.

  Find a place inside where

  There’s joy, and the joy

  Will burn out the pain.

  -Joseph Campbell

  Laying on the couch, laptop resting on her legs, Lauren was busy looking through med school applications when Mishca came through the front door. It was weird getting used to her life with him. Before, she had school most days and only spent a few nights together, or there was a threat that kept them apart, but now that that was all over—at least until she found a school—she now had to get used to him being around more often.

  She wasn’t complaining, she actually loved it when he spent the day with her, but there were days when she still couldn’t believe this was her life.

  “Where’ve you been?” She called to him as he came closer. “You were gone when I woke up.”

  With a kiss to her forehead, he dropped down beside her, pulling an envelope from his pocket, handing it over. It was vanilla in color and was hand-addressed to Mishca. Looking at it curiously, Lauren pulled out the card inside, the thick stock paper heavy in her hands. It was an invitation to an event a woman named Lucia Cortez was hosting.

  “You’re going to Brazil?” She asked looking from it to him after reading the time and place.

  “No,” he said plucking it from her hands. “We’re going to Brazil. Two nights, Marco sent his plane.”

  “Wait,” Lauren sputtered with a laugh. “We can’t just leave the country.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because…” Well she didn’t really have a very good answer to that. “And who is Lucia Cortess or Marco?”

  “Cortez,” he corrected her pronunciation. “Lucia is the ex-wife of Marco.”

  “I don’t understand.” Lauren looked back at the invitation. “Why would she invite you to a party where she’s selling her jewelry? I mean, unless you’re into that kind of thing, Mish.”

  “Sometimes I forget how much of a bad influence Luka is on you. While Lucia considers us friends, it’s more pressing that I go to meet Marco for a meeting. Besides, the jewelry she’s selling was once a gift from Marco.”

  “So she’s selling it? Wouldn’t that make him mad or something, and I still don’t understand who he is to you?”

  “Marco is an old associate of mine. There’s nothing to worry about, honestly. He approved of this.”

  Rolling her eyes, dropping the invitation on the table, Lauren asked, “So since this is a business trip, why do I need to be there?”

  “One night of business, two days for just us. Consider it our pre-honeymoon. There’s a gold bikini in there that I’ve been waiting to see.”

  Lauren pretended to think it over, more than excited at the prospect of leaving the country and traveling to a place she had never been.

  “What do I need to pack?”

  Vlad didn’t look happy—though his facial expression rarely changed—at the news of the private jet, but dutifully kept driving towards the airstrip where the pilots were waiting their arrival.

  After Lauren thought about it, she had seen less and less of the enforcer since the Albanians had come to town, especially since Luka showed up, but Mishca hadn’t said anything about demoting him and when she looked, his tattoos were as they were supposed to be.

  As they were pulling into the hangar, Mishca’s phone rang, and with one look at who was calling, he rolled his eyes and silenced it. Before Lauren had a chance to question him about his reaction, her phone rang.

  “Hello?”

  “Why can’t I go to Rio?” Luka whined into the phone, music blaring in the background.

  Laughing, Lauren glanced at Mishca. “I’m not in charge of that.”

  “You shouldn’t have answered,” Mishca murmu
red.

  “After all I’ve done? You let him just throw me away like garbage! I’m offended.”

  “Luka—”

  “I’ve put my ass on the line of fire for you—I even got a damn speeding ticket. Did you know I had to pay him off not to arrest me. Which means I paid to get a damn speeding ticket!”

  “You’re being a little dramatic, Luka,” Lauren said, ducking out of the way when Mishca tried to take the phone from her. “If you want, I could tell Mishca to give you vacation time.”

  “Nyet, Vy s uma soshli—No, have you lost your mind!” Mishca growled at her, pulling her to his side so he was able to snatch the phone from her. Whatever Luka was saying now had Mishca frowning. “No, she didn’t mean—I don’t give a shit…You’re giving me a headache. Fine! We’ll discuss it when I return.”

  Lauren was still laughing, even more so when he promised to hurt her for what she had done.

  “You should stop indulging him,” he said as they got out of the car, the small, but sleek plane waiting dozens of feet away.

  “Give Luka a break. He’s deserves a vacation after looking after me when you were in the hospital.”

  His eyes grew hard, never liking to be reminded of that time. “It was his job.”

  “And with every job comes benefits and promotions,” she replied with a sunny smile, going up to the tips of her toes to kiss his furrowed brow.

  “You’re too nice to him.”

  “No, you’re not nice enough.”

  Though Vlad offered, Mishca carried their luggage to the plane

  While the plane was much smaller than a commercial airline, the interior was still spacious enough for the three of them to have their own areas, though Lauren sat with Mishca.

  They were buckling in, the pilot coming over the intercom to tell them they were about to take off. Lauren was looking out the window as the plane started rolling forward, her excitement making her glance over at Mishca with a smile on her face.

  While it might not have been his first time out of the country, it was hers, and she was glad that she could have that experience with him.

  Lauren slept through most of the trip, her head resting on Mishca’s shoulder. She didn’t think that position could have been very comfortable for him, especially for that length of time, but he didn’t complain.