Love, Always and Forever

by Alexis Morgan

  There was only one way that was going to happen. He had to fix himself first. He glanced up at the moon one last time. “Wish me luck.”

  And then he headed next door, hoping to reclaim his bulldog and maybe his friend.

  Chapter 23

  The headlights from Jack’s pickup flashed across Amy’s living room window as it backed out of Mikhail’s driveway. Hopefully the two brothers had finished their discussion without doing each other any serious damage. The only question she had now was whether Sarge was going to spend the night with her and Panda or if his owner was going to come get him.

  A few seconds later, a soft knock answered that question. She opened the door, not sure what to expect. She leaned against the door frame and aimed for keeping the moment light.

  After giving Mikhail a head-to-toe look, she said, “Well, I don’t see any obvious bruises. Can Jack make the same claim?”

  “It was a close thing.” Mikhail’s smile came and went quickly. “But, yeah, he can.”

  “Glad to hear it. So are you here to collect Sarge?”

  “Yeah, but I’d like to talk with you for a few minutes first if that’s okay.”

  “Why?” she asked, although she wasn’t sure she had it in her to refuse him such a simple request.

  He made no move to come inside. “I don’t want to leave things between us like they are right now.”

  What could they say that hadn’t already been said? It wasn’t like they could hit the REWIND button and make everything that had happened go away.

  Even so, she stepped back. “Come on in.”

  Mikhail stayed right where he was, hands in his hip pockets. “Mind if we sit outside instead? It’s a nice night, and the moon is spectacular. Besides, some things are easier to talk about in the darkness.”

  It was tempting to refuse, to close the door and hide from the emotional pain she knew—just knew—was the most likely outcome of any discussion they would have now. But this was her friend. If he needed to talk, she’d listen.

  “Let’s go out in the backyard. It’s more private, and the dogs can wander around if they want to without us having to worry about them.”

  Rather than coming inside, Mikhail immediately reversed course and headed around the end of the house toward the gate to the backyard. Sarge shoved past her to follow his owner into the dark shadows, leaving her staring after them. Seriously? Mikhail wouldn’t cut through her house even though that was the shortest route to the backyard?

  When Panda whined, she reached down to pat him on the head. “Come on, boy. We’ll catch up with those two out back.”

  It was tempting to stop long enough to concoct a couple of supersized banana splits. A day like this one certainly warranted them, but she didn’t want to risk Mikhail changing his mind and taking off. She found him sitting out in the grass, leaning back on his elbows with his long legs stretched in front of him and Sarge sprawled across his lap. Lucky dog.

  She sank down on the grass a short distance away and checked out the night sky for herself. “You’re right. The moon is gorgeous.”

  He remained silent for several seconds. “Tell me about your heart surgery.”

  So they weren’t going to dance around the subject. “I already did. I had a major heart valve defect when I was born, one they couldn’t completely fix with the technology that existed then.”

  “But that changed?”

  “Yeah, the doctors came to us with this new procedure they wanted to try.” She let the memories of that day play out in her head. “Funny, you would’ve thought I’d jump at the chance to fix the problem permanently, but it was actually hard to make that decision.”

  Mikhail gave her a puzzled look. “Why? Were you scared that you might not make it through the surgery?”

  “Partly, but it was actually more complicated than that.” She sighed. “Hope can be a tricky thing. I wasn’t sure that I could handle it if it turned out that the surgery only made me a little bit better. What if they did this new miracle procedure, and I still couldn’t live anything close to a normal life? How much longer did I want my family to constantly worry about me? Did I really want to go on living on the sidelines, watching the world pass by my parents’ living room window? Heck, if it hadn’t been for the online schools, I wouldn’t have even been able to go to college. I came this close to refusing to put myself and my family through it.”

  When she held up her finger and thumb with only a tiny space between them to illustrate her point, Misha glanced at her hand and shook his head. “Facing something like that would be scary as hell, but I also know you well enough to be sure there was no way you wouldn’t have had that surgery. It’s like a marine the night before a battle—scared shitless but knowing he’s going to pick up that rifle and fight anyway. The battlefield might have been different, but you were a soldier in your very own war, Amy, and you came through the fight stronger than ever.”

  She soaked up his praise like a sponge. No one had ever put it in those terms before. Maybe he really did understand what it had been like for her.

  “What did the doctors say?”

  He asked the question in a complete monotone, which didn’t soften the emotional punch that came with it. They both knew a lot hung on her answer. “I have to go in periodically for follow-up tests, but so far they’re thrilled with the results. By all reports, it was a resounding success.”

  He shifted to look at her more directly. “But?”

  “What makes you think there’s a ‘but’ in there somewhere?”

  “Your folks and brothers wouldn’t be so worried if there wasn’t one.”

  “Their concern is that it was such a new procedure. All the indicators say I should live a long and happy life, but the surgery doesn’t have enough of a track record yet to know for sure. Like I said, hope is a tricky thing and not always easy to believe in. I decided to embrace the possibilities. I’m just sorry that it’s hard for my family to do that, too.”

  Misha shifted to look straight at her. “Are you sure that you’ve embraced the idea of hope or is it that you’re determined to cram as much as possible into whatever time you have? Because I’m telling you right now, those aren’t the same things at all.”

  She flinched, his words striking a little too close to home. “That’s not what I’m doing.”

  His smile flashed in the darkness. “I have one word to say on that subject—motorcycle.”

  He had her there. “Okay, maybe you’re a little bit right, but you have to admit I have a lot of catching up to do. Maybe it would have been smarter to take things a lot slower, but I don’t want to die having never lived at all. And that’s true whether I have five years left or fifty, because none of us come marked with an exact expiration date.”

  Mikhail flinched and turned away from her again. The pale moonlight emphasized all the sharp edges in his handsome face, making him look hard and unyielding. It was clear that he was hurting, but she couldn’t guess the source of his pain.

  “Misha? Talk to me.”

  He stared up at the sky in silence. Finally, he said, “I’ve never told you much about my own background.”

  “I know you, Jack, and Tino were in the foster system until you were all adopted by Marlene and her husband.”

  Sarge chose that moment to start snoring, the deep rumble briefly softening the grim look on Mikhail’s face. “I wish you could have met Joe Lukash. He was the best person I’ve ever known. Looking back, it was Marlene who showed us what it meant to be a family. We all love her like crazy for that, but it was Joe who taught us what it meant to be good men. With tough love and a gentle hand, he gave each of us a sense of self-worth, something we didn’t have when we arrived on his doorstep. We would’ve done anything to make him proud of us.”

  “And you all succeeded. You have to know he was proud of you, and rightly so.”

  She wasn’t sure Mikhail had even heard what she’d said, because he continued speaking in that same emotionless tone. “His deat
h ripped a huge hole in my life, like somehow the anchor in my world had been ripped away. Now I’m back to drifting again and not sure where I’m headed.”

  He quit talking, but his last words hung there in the air between them. Joe’s death had taken a toll on Mikhail, but it was clear that something else had happened in his past that was equally bad, maybe even a whole lot worse. Actually, judging from the shudder that passed through his big body, there was no maybe about it.

  She hated to poke and prod at a raw wound that clearly still hurt him so much, but her instincts said he’d held the pain in for too long already. She picked up Panda and scooted across the grass to sit behind Mikhail. After settling the dog back beside her, she tugged on Mikhail’s shoulders, hoping he’d lay back with his head in her lap. To her surprise, he didn’t fight her on it and settled against her with a soft sigh.

  She ran her fingers through his hair, keeping her touch light. “You said you were drifting again, Misha, like you’ve done this before. Tell me what happened.”

  He immediately reached up to capture her hand in his. “I don’t think my birth mother ever knew for sure who my father was, so it was always just the two of us. She had an Eastern European accent, but she never told me anything about her background, where she came from, or how she came to be living here in the States. I’m guessing she was here illegally. Even when she was able to hold down a regular job, usually as a maid in some run-down motel, she always worked on a cash-only basis.” He swallowed hard and added, “Her male visitors always paid her in cash, too.”

  Mikhail lifted his eyes long enough to look straight up at Amy, maybe to judge her reaction to that little bombshell. When she gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, he started talking again. “Mom tried hard to stay away from drugs. She sometimes went for months at a stretch without using. Those were always the best times. But even if there was enough money for food and rent, I was continually outgrowing my clothes and shoes. I hated how hard she had to work, how many men she had to invite in to keep me in shoes.”

  Amy hurt for the boy and the woman who had struggled to take care of each other. “She loved you, and you loved her.”

  “Yeah, we did. After all, it was just the two of us against the world. I would’ve done anything to take care of her, especially when she was struggling. I skipped so much school to stay home with her that the authorities threatened to take me away from her. If they’d done that, I was scared I wouldn’t ever see her again. As far as I ever knew, she had no real friends or any family who could have helped us. When she had me to focus on, she did better and could make it through the day. You know, without the drugs.”

  He paused again and then whispered, “Maybe life wouldn’t have broken her if she hadn’t been saddled with a kid when she was still one herself.”

  Amy jerked her hand out of his and smacked him on top of the head. “Don’t ever talk that way. Never doubt you were the best thing that ever happened to her.”

  Mikhail sat up, his broad back rigid and tense. “If that’s true, then why did she shove a needle full of heroin in her arm while I was at school?”

  Oh God, she’d suspected his mother had died, but not like that. “You couldn’t have known that would happen, Misha.”

  Mikhail turned to look at her. “But I did know, Amy, or at least I should have. She was going through a real rough spell, but together we’d gotten through them before. I knew better than to leave her alone when she got that bad, but the school officials were on my ass about skipping too many days again. By the time I got home, it was already too late. She’d been dead for hours.” He shuddered. “Her body was so cold.” Mikhail’s voice was little better than a growl, his words laced with pain and grief. “If I’d stayed home just one more time, I could have talked her out of using.”

  Sympathy wasn’t working, so this time she went for anger. “That’s crap, Mikhail Wanjek, and you know it. I don’t mean to speak badly of your mother, but she was the adult in this equation, not you.”

  When he started to protest, she cut him off and again took his hand. “Yes, maybe you could have talked her off the ledge that day, but what about the next day and the day after that? If you’d stayed home once too often, you know CPS would’ve stepped in, and she would have been even more alone.”

  He lapsed back into silence. She gave him a few seconds to process that much before continuing. “I want to say one more thing, and then I’ll shut up. Your mother wouldn’t have wanted you to feel guilty about what happened to her. She deserves your love, not your guilt, and the gratitude of the people in your life who love you for the amazing man you’ve become. Like your brothers, like Marlene and Joe, and…me.”

  When he didn’t react, she wondered if anything she’d said had actually registered. She’d barely whispered that last word, so maybe he hadn’t heard it. All things considered, perhaps that was for the best.

  Then he spoke again. “Maybe you’re right, and I couldn’t have saved my mother no matter what I tried to do. For sure that seems to be the pattern of my life. God knows I’ve failed to save so many others over the years. Friends I served with who didn’t make it back home. Innocent civilians we were fighting to protect in whatever hell zone we were sent to.”

  He shivered, but she didn’t think it had anything to do with the cool night air. His hand tightened its grip on hers. “Then there were those people who died in the fire the other night. Even if we saved the little girl, one out of three isn’t good enough. Not by a long shot.”

  He released her hand and turned away, his broad back forming a solid barrier between the two of them. “I don’t know if I can survive another failure to save someone in my care.”

  It took her a second to follow the direction his thoughts had taken him.

  “Are you talking about your job or the problem with my heart or both?”

  She hated that he nodded even if she understood why he did. “I see.”

  No way she was going to stay another second, not when her eyes were already burning from the need to cry, to mourn the loss of something precious that had died before it ever even had a chance to live.

  “I’m going inside now.”

  She made it as far as the back porch before he caught up with her. One second she was standing on solid ground and the next she was being crushed against Mikhail’s chest, her feet dangling in the air. Without thinking, she wrapped her legs around his hips and her arms around his neck, holding on for dear life.

  His mouth found hers, his tongue shoving past her lips as if staking a claim on her soul.

  She broke off the kiss and stared into his feral gaze. “What are you wanting here, Misha?”

  “I want you…us, together one more time.” He brushed his lips across hers. “I want to strip us both down to the skin, and then I want to take you every way I can think of, hard and fast, slow and gentle.”

  There was no way she would refuse him, but she had to know the answer to one last question. “Why?”

  “To make sure you know that, regardless of how things play out between us, you do matter to me. More than I can find words to describe.”

  A wiser woman might have said no, might have tried to protect herself from the pain that was sure to come. But she wasn’t strong enough to send him away, leaving them both alone and hurting.

  Smiling through her tears, she whispered, “Take me to bed, Misha. Love me for tonight.”

  Chapter 24

  Clothing fluttered to the floor behind them like leaves in the wind, tracing their headlong rush from the back door to Amy’s bedroom. Her shirt and then his were the first to go as she stole his breath with a kiss. He toed off his shoes while she went to work on his zipper before they made it out of the kitchen. When she knelt at his feet to kiss her way down his stomach and then give his erection a quick lick, he almost lost it right there. He tugged her back up to her feet and half-carried, half-dragged her into the dining room, pausing long enough to unfasten her bra and toss it on the table. He captured her br
easts in his palms and squeezed.

  “God, woman, these are so beautiful.”

  He lifted her onto the table and emphasized his admiration by nuzzling his way down the length of her graceful neck. From there, he kissed each breast, working the sensitive tips with his lips and tongue.

  Within seconds, Amy was almost incoherent, and he was right there with her. He wanted more, too, and he wanted it now. If they didn’t get horizontal soon, he was going to take Amy right there on the table or up against the nearest wall. Anywhere, anyhow, as long as he could get inside her and forge a connection that would burn red hot even if for only this one night.

  She grew more frantic, her nails digging into his shoulders, the small pains only increasing the urgency. Definitely time to move on down the hall to her room. They were both running hot by the time he tossed her onto the bed. At least he retained enough sanity to grab a condom out of the drawer in the bedside table. When sheer desperation had his fingers fumbling, Amy took the packet away from him and gently took care of the matter herself.

  Then he was on her and in her, too fast and too quickly, but his lady didn’t protest the rush. Instead, she welcomed him with open arms. Still, he paused long enough to ask, “Am I being too rough?”

  Amy caressed his face and offered up a siren’s smile in response. “You’re being perfect.”

  Taking her at her word, he gave her everything he had, his hips flexing fast and hard to deepen the connection between them. After only half a dozen pounding strokes, he was almost to the finish line. It was too soon, too much. In an effort to ease off a little, he withdrew completely, forcing himself to remain motionless while he waited for his lungs to catch up with his need for oxygen and his pulse to slow to a more reasonable pace.

  “Misha? Is something wrong?”

  He shook his head and then nuzzled Amy’s neck again. “Just trying to slow this down a bit.”

  She rocked her hips up to increase the pressure against his erection. “But I liked what we were doing.”