by Tillie Cole
I felt tears trickling down my cheeks and I nodded, unable to speak, and he sat back, staring at me as though he were seeing me for the first time. “You’re the girl from my dreams…”
“Yes, Raze, yes,” I answered excitedly.
He exhaled a long breath like he’d just run a marathon, and he slumped back against the wall again, clutching the frame to his chest, just staring at me.
I held his gaze, willing him to remember more, but when a single tear ran down his stubbled cheek, it took everything I had not to fall apart.
I lurched forward and threw myself into his arms. “Lyubov moya! Please … no,” I whispered and wrapped my arms around his neck and straddled his hips, feeling his heart thundering in his chest against mine. “It’s okay. We’ll get you to remember who you are. You’ll remember everything in time. I promise.”
His body shook and his nose tucked into the crook between my shoulder and neck, and he hugged me back, so tight it was a struggle to breathe.
We were silent, quietly sitting and comforting one another, when he asked, “Am I … am I this boy in the picture? The one holding you?”
I stilled and so very slowly pulled back to face him. Raze’s eyes had darkened, glittering with questions, and when our gazes collided, I replied, “Yes. I think you are the boy in that picture. At first I didn’t know, but now I’m sure. It’s you…”
Raze didn’t show any reaction, but his hand abruptly cupped my cheek and his head tilted to the side. We stayed that way for minutes and minutes, until his lips parted and a rush of breath poured through, and he whispered, “My Kisa-Anna … my solnyshko … God put a piece of your blue eyes in mine so we would always know we matched…”
Like a dam breaking, relieved excitement washed through me like a river amidst a hurricane, and I sobbed and cried, “Luka … my Luka…” before pressing my lips against this man’s, tasting the essence of the boy I had been created and destined to love. Loving the lost man I now held in my arms.
Raze froze against my mouth, and I broke away to see his eyes shining, looking lost. “Luka?” he questioned, only for his eyes to widen, and he sucked in a sharp breath. “Luka … I was called Luka … My name was Luka?”
“Yes.” I smiled and peppered kisses all over his face.
His hands clenched the thick strands of my brown hair. “Kisa-Anna, my Kisa-Anna,” he kept murmuring over and over, and I was sure I would never tire of my name pouring from his perfect full lips.
“Yes! Yes, Luka. I’m yours! I was made for you.”
We stayed clutched in each other’s arms for what could have been an age, when I eventually pulled back, gave him a long sweet kiss, and said, “Would you come somewhere with me? I want to take you somewhere … somewhere special.”
Raze tilted his head to the side but, without question, replied, “Anywhere. I … trust you.”
He trusted me …
Rising to my feet, I took Raze’s hand, led him into the bathroom and, wetting a rag, cleaned the area around his new tattoo and laid gauze over his new scars.
Raze slipped on a sweatshirt and sweatpants. I couldn’t help but smile when I realized it was that same gray hooded sweatshirt that I had first seen him in, and I held out my hand.
Raze lifted the hood over his head—I assumed it was instinctive for him to hide as we were going outside—and came forward and cautiously took my outstretched hand. I wrapped my fingers in his and squeezed.
Raze’s brown eyes caught mine from under his hood, and without a word, I led him outside, his huge frame dwarfing mine.
As we slipped out the back door, I spotted the awaiting Lincoln, and Serge jumped out of the car, his tall broad body tense like he was prepping for trouble.
Raze pulled me to a stop and pushed me behind him as if Serge were going to be a threat. I jerked on his hand and Raze growled, “Stay back.”
I pushed my way around Raze and pushed on his solid chest with my hand until his eyes dropped to mine. “He’s a friend, Raze. Like 362 was to you. He’s my friend.” I cast a glance back at Serge and knew Serge could hear everything I said out in this quiet parking lot, but I knew I could trust him. “You used to know him too. He used to be like an uncle to you.”
Raze’s head tipped to the side, and I could see his eyes squint under the shadow of his hood as he stared at Serge. I lifted my hand, laid it on his cheek and whispered, “Let yourself remember, Luka.”
Raze’s eyes slammed to mine at the mention of his old name, and as he glanced up at Serge again, I saw the moment the memory fixed in place. His tense muscles relaxed and a labored breath exhaled from his mouth.
“Serge,” he hushed out quietly. “Serge.” Raze rolled the name around on his tongue, and as I glanced back to Serge, his face was pale and he looked to me in shock. I knew he’d started to believe me.
Taking Raze’s hand once more, I walked him over to Serge, who couldn’t take his eyes off my fighter, my long lost love.
“Serge,” I greeted, and Raze froze, his head dipped down, and his hood covered his entire face.
Serge was silent.
Looking up at Raze, I said, “Raze, pull back your hood.”
Raze didn’t move for a few long seconds, but he eventually lifted his hand and drew back his hood, his downcast eyes slowly lifting and fixed on Serge.
Serge’s eyes were assessing as he studied Raze up close.
“Sergei?” Raze said, and Serge blanched further at the use of his full first name. He looked at me in disbelief, just as Raze said, “I … I remember you.” Raze gripped my hand and pressed it to his lips, the action almost making me drop to my knees in happiness.
“You would drive me and Kisa to school … and to the beach?”
“Yes,” Serge replied, and I heard the clogging of his throat and saw the tears build in his eyes. “Christ! It is you! You look different, but … yes, it’s you.”
“I told you I’d found him. That he’d come back to us,” I said, and Serge shook his head, astounded.
“We thought you were dead. We were told you’d died in an accident.”
I felt Raze stiffen and I panicked. I’d never talked about the murder or his apparent death. I’d never told him of his family, of Talia, of Ivan, of his mother, who still to this day could not move past the loss of her son. Raze had never mentioned any memory of his family, so I didn’t want to push. I couldn’t bear losing him again if it all became too much and he ran.
“What accident? What death?” Raze asked tightly, and I could see the pain etching his face. It was like it physically pained him to remember his life before becoming a fighter.
Serge’s eyebrows pulled down, and I subtly shook my head, telling him without words to go no further.
Lifting to my tiptoes, I pressed my lips to Raze’s and asked, “Would you go somewhere with me now? Serge will drive us there.”
Raze pulled back and, without hesitation, answered, “Yes.”
Serge made himself busy by opening the back doors of the Lincoln, and we climbed inside.
Raze was tense as he sat in the car and I stroked at his arm. “Are you okay, lyubov moya?”
Raze cleared his throat and shifted on the seat. Placing his hand on my knee, he squeezed. “Cars make me nervous. I … I haven’t been in many, and I don’t like not being in control.”
Picking up his heavy arm, I laid it over my shoulder and cuddled into his waist. Raze’s thumb stroked at my arm, and I sighed. I’d never felt like this. Even as a child, and infatuated with Luka to the level I was, I wasn’t old enough to understand that your feelings can deepen even further with age. I didn’t know believing you had lost your soul mate and then having them re-enter your life made the word “relief” too simple of an emotion, because the reality of having your heart fixed back together was too indescribable for words.
Looking up, I saw Serge casting the odd glimpse at the two of us, and a happy expression filled his face. He’d always loved Luka, and in truth, he’d always hated Alik
. I knew that by the way he now looked at me safe in Raze’s arms. It filled him with happiness. I knew he worried what my life would be like with Alik. And tomorrow night, my true love and my fiancé would fight to the death. I almost couldn’t breathe at that thought of that fact, so I chose to block it from my mind and focus on being joined with the other half of my soul right now, right this second. Just living in the moment.
Raze pulled me closer to his side and ran his nose amongst my hair. “We used to sit like this, didn’t we? You under the protection of my arm, safe.”
I smiled against his abs. “Always.”
“I think I remember that.”
“Good, lyubov moya. That’s really good.”
17
RAZE
As soon as the car door opened, the familiar smell of the sea hit my nostrils, causing flashbacks to assault my guarded mind.
A boy.
A girl.
The beach.
A late summer’s night.
Kissing … Something more … something big … something life changing … something that made my chest ache … something that just felt right.
Kisa took a red plaid blanket in her hands, yanking me from the memory as Serge opened the door.
“I want to show you somewhere, Raze,” she said, and I got out of the car. I closed my eyes as I heard the sound of the sea waves, as I smelled the salt in the air.
A calm washed over my body as the sea waves crashed against the shore. Hearing people’s voices in the distance, laughing and having a good time, somehow made me feel at home, for the first time ever. I tried to let myself enjoy this. I had never enjoyed … anything; too concerned with fighting, killing, training … revenge to ever let myself just be.
Tipping my head back, I sucked in a deep breath and let the muggy night air fill my lungs, only exhaling when Kisa took my hand in hers and began pulling me to the warm sand.
“I’ll wait for you here,” Serge shouted from behind us, and I glanced back to see him getting back into the car. He threw me a smile as he shut the door, and I gave him a curt nod in return.
Kisa and I didn’t talk as our feet hit the sand. We didn’t talk as she led me along the shore’s edge, only stopping so I could remove my sneakers. As soon as the grainy sand hit my bare feet, I sighed and stared out at the dark water, the moon hanging low and bright.
It made me think of the dream, the one where the boy had been making love to Kisa on the beach. My eyes darted down to Kisa staring out at the ocean too, and my heart slammed in my chest, so loud and hard I was sure she would hear it. But she just kept looking out into the night, and I just kept … remembering.
I was remembering …
They were young, very young, when they’d been together, but it had meant so much. They were nervous, too nervous, but when the boy was inside her, her pussy so tight and wet, it stole his breath.
She’d been so nervous as the boy took her on the sand, making her his, something switching inside of him as they came together, like the final piece of their souls had fixed in place and all that was left was them as one.
“It’s my favorite place on Earth,” Kisa whispered, suddenly breaking through the quiet of the night, and I stepped to the side until I was behind her, draping my arms around her shoulders and resting my chin on her head.
“You come here a lot?” I asked, seeing large boats in the distance, sailing across the horizon.
Kisa tensed up, then said quietly, “I haven’t been here in twelve years.”
I frowned in confusion, but before I could question why, she turned in my arms and took my hand. “It’s this way.”
Following her lead, I asked, “What is?”
Kisa’s beautiful face suddenly looked happy and she leaned into my side, her scent hitting my nose, keeping me calm. I didn’t like being out in public. I didn’t like open spaces. I’d been caged up too long, so long that freedom and open areas made me feel uneasy.
“Our cove.”
We walked for a while before we climbed over some rocks and, hidden away from sight, was a small blocked-off patch of sand. Kisa sniffed beside me. “It hasn’t changed at all,” she whispered and jumped off the rock down onto the sand.
Looking back, her blue eyes were bright, her long black dress clung to her fucking beautiful hourglass curves, and her long brown hair blew in the light sticky wind.
“Kisa-Anna…” I rasped out and went to jump down too, but suddenly I came to a stop as something big came back to me … something I think I’d known since the night I’d saved her. I just didn’t know how to actually feel, how to let it in, until now.
My eyes widened as I stared at my woman. “I had her…” I said under my breath and only to myself, memories of us together flooding my mind. “I had her. She was mine…” I repeated, as I thought of us on this beach, in this cove, in Serge’s car, on the pier.
I stretched up my neck and glanced over the rocks to see a long pier shining with lights, and my heart boomed like a crash of thunder in a thunderstorm.
Kisa laid out the blanket on a patch of sand nearest the rocks, and I leapt down beside her. Within seconds, I had lifted her into my arms. Her surprised blue eyes met mine as her hands gripped onto my biceps.
My eyes bored into hers, and I said breathlessly, “I had you. I had you since the day you were born. I asked your mama for you and she said yes.”
Kisa’s face filled with a gamut of emotions: happiness, sorrow, and … hope? I didn’t know, but she nodded and her eyes misted over, moisture threatening to fall.
Dropping to my knees, the memories so strong I couldn’t stand any longer, I laid Kisa on the blanket and hovered over her. Warmth filled my chest like the sun had moved its home inside of me. I’d only ever felt cold before. The cell was cold. Killing was cold … I was always cold, but right now, I was warm … I felt alive. No longer dead inside.
I gazed into her eyes and saw only happiness in her stare.
“Raze…” she murmured, stroking through the strands of my hair, but I couldn’t speak.
We’d always been together. Her and me, from birth, we were always together.
Urging Kisa’s hand from my hair, I threaded my fingers through hers and studied her slim fingers, the nails painted pink, through my cut and scarred hands, marks from years of fighting, my knuckledusters marring the skin …
* * *
As we sat on the sofa, Kisa pulled out a book to read, and I watched her eyes racing along the sentences, an excited smile on her lips.
“How long do you think our fathers will be in there?” I asked, wanting her to look at me, to pay me attention, not the damn book.
Kisa glanced at me over the page and shrugged. “Don’t know. Papa always takes a long time when he’s doing business.”
I nodded but never took my eyes from her face. Kisa dropped her head and blushed. I was nine now, she was eight, and I couldn’t stop staring at her face every time I saw her. She was so pretty.
Kisa began reading again, and I shuffled closer to her until our arms brushed. She glanced sideward at me and started chewing on her lip.
I tried to sit back against the couch, but I couldn’t stop watching Kisa-Anna. My hand started to twitch and I wanted to reach out and touch her. She was my best friend, and best friends should touch, I thought.
Without thinking it through, I reached out and took her hand in mine, wrapping our fingers around each other’s.
Kisa gasped and said, “Luka, what are you doing?”
I shrugged. “Holding your hand.”
“Why?” Kisa whispered, staring at my thumb stroking her skin. She was so soft.
“Because I have to,” I answered honestly, and she seemed to stop breathing for several minutes before exhaling, her long eyelashes fluttering when she looked at me.
“Okay,” she whispered, and something warm spread in my chest and down to my stomach. “I … I like it.”
I smiled and Kisa blushed again. “Me too. I’m going to hold
your hand all the time now. I’m never going to let go.”
“I don’t ever want you to,” she said shyly, and I pulled her to rest back against the couch, her side tucked next to mine, our hands still fused together.
“Read to me,” I said and closed my eyes.
Kisa took a deep breath and started her story from the beginning.
“They were always meant to be together, one boy and one girl, two hearts split into two, sent to far-off lands on their own. For God wanted to see if true love could be tested. He wanted to see if two halves of one soul could find each other again, even against the odds. Years would pass, they would both be hurt, they would both be sad, but one day, when they least expected it, they would stumble into each other’s paths. The question is: would they recognize each other’s soul? Would they find their way back to love…?”
* * *
“We would hold hands,” I said, my vision snapping back into focus, almost like I had no control of the memories rushing into my mind like a waterfall. “You would read to me. I would hold your hand and you would read to me.”
Kisa nodded frantically and tears slipped out of the sides of her eyes onto the blanket. Her left hand raked through my hair, and my eyes squeezed shut, more images almost drowning me …
“I love your hair, Luka … It looks like gold and feels like silk,” Kisa’s young self had said as I lay on the grass in a park.
“Mmm … don’t stop. I love it when you play with my hair.”
I gasped at the images in my head, and concentrated on feeling her hand in mine. “You would stroke my hair in the park,” I said, my voice increasing in both volume and speed as more memories came racing back.
“Yes.” Kisa sobbed, her bottom lip trembling, but her blue eyes shone like she wanted more and more. “Yes, I would.”
* * *
“Kisa, quickly, follow me. Father Kruschev isn’t looking!” I took Kisa’s hand and we ran out of the church onto the steps, where I pulled Kisa to my lap and pulled her in for a kiss.
