Let Me In-Dragan's Tale: The Mikhailov Brothers (8 page)

BOOK: Let Me In-Dragan's Tale: The Mikhailov Brothers
3.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Toni grinned and turned toward the kitchen announcing her imminent return over her shoulder.

I rolled my shirtsleeves and went to the narrow hallway. Three doors presented themselves. I knew the one on the left was Toni’s mother’s bedroom. My intention was to go in and start cleaning up the mess the emergency personnel had left. Get everything that could be upsetting picked up. But, I paused at the door to the immediate right. It was likely Toni’s bedroom. The urge to open the door, to take a glimpse was overwhelming. I knew it would smell like her. Evocative and clean. I put a hand to the doorknob but pulled away like I’d been burned.

“You hungry,
Mikhailov?” Toni called from the kitchen.

“Um, yeah. Thanks,” I called back
absently, turning to the left and opening the door.

My hand glided across the wall until I found what I was looking for. With a flip, an overhead light illuminated the space. The room was trashed. The mattress on the narrow medical bed hung off the frame. Gauze and towels littered the floor. Burgundy stains blotted the terry cloth where someone had attempted to stem bleeding from Mrs. Hume’s wound. From the looks of it, she had lost a lot of blood.

I quickly knelt down and snatched the bloodstained items then righted the mattress. Dropping the soiled items in the center of the bed, I folded the fitted sheet around the towels and stripped the sheets off, tucking the linen in to hide any evidence of blood.

Next I stuffed the bundle into the pillowcase folded the duvet and laid it at the end of the bed. In the
wastebasket next to the nightstand, someone had dumped the orphaned pieces from the ceramic lamp base and more bloody gauze. The majority of the lamp sitting on the nightstand.

I pivoted to find Toni standing in the threshold. Her hands filled with potato chips and bottled waters. Her eyes were wide and dewy, taking it all in. Her face turned up and she looked at me. Her gaze awakened a thousand little fingers tripping over my arms and up my neck.
I focused on the bow of her mouth. Peach-hued lips on creamy skin. Beautiful, clean American beauty. That’s what she was.

She gifted me a small smile then. “If you wouldn’t mind, just put the sheets by the back door.”

“Of course.” My voice gruff, I cleared my throat. “I want to empty the wastebasket.”

She shook her head. “Leave it. I will get that.”

“No,” I replied. “I will take care of it now.” I leveraged the laundry under an arm and picked up the broken lamp and trash can. Raising my brows, she relented and directed me to the garbage outside the backdoor.

On my way back in, I stopped to wash my hands in the kitchen taking in the incredibly small size of it. There was no room for a table and chairs.
All the surfaces were well-worn but spotless.

I found Toni seated on the sofa. She dumped the chips into a bowl and poured the water into glasses.

“I put a frozen pizza in the oven for us.” Toni said, an unidentified timbre in her voice.

I sat down next to her and nodded. Sweeping the bottled water from the table, I twisted the cap and downed it all in a few gulps.

We sat in silence for a moment before Toni began. “Thank you, Mikhailov. Taking care of Mom’s room like that…that was really nice of you,” she said this so quietly I had to turn my head to make sure it came from her.

“Are you alright?” I said back.

Toni frowned. “All right?” Not understanding the question.

“After everything
the doctor said. You ok with all that? Do you…”I paused looking for the right words. “I don’t know. Do you need to talk?”

Toni laughed then and smacked me on the leg. “Don’t worry big guy. I’m not the kinda girl who needs a shoulder to cry on. I’ll be fine.” She stopped and took a drink of water. “I’m always fine,” she added like an
afterthought.

I grinned and turned to ease into the corner of the sofa
. I stretched my legs out. My presence like a dark shadow spreading toward Toni. Infringing on her personal space. I liked it.

She caught me staring at her legs and sighed
. I looked at her face and a cocky grin was swiftly replaced with a pained expression.

“If you want to be useful, my legs are sore from today.” She smiled. Was she daring me to touch her?

I leaned over and brought her legs up to rest on mine. “Why are they sore?” I asked.

“Getting Mom in her bath chair. She couldn’t help at all this morning. She’s heavier than she looks.
” She didn’t look at me with she said it so I turned her face with my finger so I could see in her eyes.

“You shouldn’t be doing that. You’re too little to pick up people.”

She sighed. “She’s my mom.” She looked at me with genuine puzzlement on her face. “I would do anything for her.”

I didn’t push it and positioned her legs across my thighs. Her eyes went wide when I let my fingertips graze her ankle. I kept my touch light. Her eyes went to my hand as I slid my touch over the top of her foot. Slowly I made my way up her calf to her knee. I let it settle there for a moment. Feigning indecisiveness. Then I started again, my fingers curling around her knee to the soft flesh behind it. I kept my eyes on my mission. Gently I worked my thumb int
o the muscle at her thigh. My palms, a rough contrast to her delicate skin. I kneaded the muscle and heard her moan.

Leaning forward, I glided my arm under her thighs and brought her closer.

Catching herself on her elbows she watched me massage one leg, then the other. From the top of her thigh to her toes I worked. With every gentle squeeze, the knot of anticipation in my balls constricted and then realigned, my cock pulling toward her, like a dowsing rod. But not for water, for pussy. She remained transfixed as my hand worked its way up and between her thighs. My thumb swirling, manipulating. The action, little by little, exposing more of her to me.

My hand finally stopped. The tips of my fingers just touching the lace between her legs. My thumb so close, right where I wanted to be. God, how long had it been since I’d been between a woman’s legs
? No, not a woman. I wanted this woman. I wanted her body under me. Her mouth on me. I wanted to taste every fucking inch of her beautiful feminine body. . I could smell her and my mind cluttered with filthy images. Shit, I could smell the heat coming off her.


Mikhailov,” she called. Her voice thick and …amused?

Reluctantly I snapped out of it and gazed into her face. Grinning, she gave my hand a pat and pushed off my lap. “I think the pizza’s on fire.”

             

 

 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

USELESS

I tried to reposition myself on the sofa. It was no use. There was no way I was going to sleep tonight. I’d insisted upon staying the night at Toni’s house, like the utter fucking fool that I was. So, I had to try to sleep on a hard sofa, half the length of my body. And I had a hard-on again. Being around that woman is like being fifteen. Perpetually horny.

It was well after two am when we’d gotten the house aired out from all the burnt pizza smoke. By then, we were both tired and Toni had to be at the bar in a few hours to open up for Rosa.

Once I’d convinced her that it was practical for me to stay and not an attempt, as she put it to ‘protect the helpless damsel,’ she had relented and offered her mother’s bed. I declined. It didn’t seem right somehow when her mom was sick in a hospital.

Taking a deep breath I waited for sleep to take me. Closing my eyes, I imagined the feel of Toni’s skin. Soft. Her legs slender and firm. My fingers had been so close to reaching what I wanted. What would I had found? Cotton? Lace? I groaned at the thought of thin lace covering her.

“Dragan,” a voice call from the kitchen. It was Toni. Bending down, I retrieved my shirt and put it on. I didn’t recall taking it off. I always made a point to keep the ink and the scars hidden.

“Antonina?” I called back.

“Dragan, please” she answered. A whispered desperation in the expression.

I sat up straight and knifed off the couch. The matchbox of a house had heated exponentially. Beads of sweat trailed down the slope of my nose and plopped at my feet.

“Dragan, oh God, Dragan. Please,” she called out again. My skin crawled at the sound. The house was so quiet, except for her voice. My breath was coming out in short bursts now. My heart knocked hard against my bones. Bending I extracted the compact nine millimeter from my ankle strap and disengaged the safety. When what sounded like a whimper came from the room in front of me, a sinking sense of foreboding nestled at the bottom of my stomach. My arms and legs felt leaden. With effort I reached for the light switch and illuminated the kitchen. As my pupils contracted to the influx of light, I noticed Toni standing in the middle of the room. Dressed in a thin white camisole and silky white underwear. I fought the urge to study her breasts and brought my gaze to her face.

Her eyes were rimmed red, her cheeks streaked with tears. When I started to speak again I
finally noticed the man standing behind her.

Only a few inches taller than Toni, he wore all black. His face covered in a knit mask. He’d snaked his forearm around Toni’s neck. A four and a half inch double-edged boot knife pressed against her throat.

I instantly raised my hands in surrender. The gun remained in my hand. “What do you need my man?” I asked.

The assailant grunted and tucked the knife under Toni’s chin. “You weren’t supposed to be here,” he replied.

I hissed. I knew that voice. A voice that had haunted me for decades.

“Turn around and walk away. Let me do what I have to do.”

I stared. All the years of training. The countless lives I’d taken and I was powerless against this one man.             

“Do it, goddamn it!
” The man barked. “Get the fuck out of here. NOW!”

Reluctantly I started to turn on my heel but stopped when I caught Toni’s eyes. So blue, so despondent.

“Dragan, please don’t leave… ” Her words were cut by the blade of the knife as its edge cut a thin red line across her throat. Her eyes grew wide with shock as the forearm, holding her immobile, disappeared. Her body folding to the floor.

“Toni,” I screamed, a sound so shrill, foreign, I didn’t recognize it as coming from me. I rushed to her, dropping to my knees. “Oh, God, Toni. Hold on,” I croaked. Pressing one hand to her throat, I watched as blood gushed threw my fingers.

Falling on my ass, I pulled her onto my lap. One hand staying at her throat. The other holding her head up. Her lovely blonde hair streaked in red.

“Everything is alright,” she said with a smile.

“No, my beauty. It’s not, I confessed. “Fucking useless. I’m fucking useless,” I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut.

“No, you’re not. Dragan, you’re not useless,” she fussed softly. Bringing her hand up to stroke my hair. “Everything is fine. You’re safe. Dragan. Just open your eyes for me, ok?” I couldn’t do it. I didn’t want to see the blood. I couldn’t watch her die in my arms.

 

 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

BANANA FRITTERS

Toni

We stopped by the hospital before Dragan drove me to the bar. I’d needed to check on Mom and talk with the outgoing nursing staff before shifts change. A little trick I’d learned years ago. Be there to talk with the nurses. You could die of old age waiting for a doctor to return a phone call.

While eating breakfast I’d tried, without success, to get Dragan to talk about the nightmare he had last night. In truth he’d scared the crap out of me because I forgot he was on the sofa. When my alarm went off, I was reaching out to slap the snooze button when I heard him calling my name.

When I’d finally woke him and got him off the couch, he was soaked in sweat. He kept touching my face, tracing my throat. He looked... haunted.

Characteristically male, he denied the severity of the dream. Even though I saw
it in his face. He looked lost. And for the first time in my life, I wanted to be the kind of woman to make it all better. I just didn’t have that thing Evie had. That softness. But when I offered, he stared at me like I had two heads. On the plus side, he made me breakfast. So, I ate and tried not to get jealous at the thought that he would probably call Evie and tell her about his feelings. But, since, I apparently love rejection from this man; I tried again in the car. Still nothing.

So, I got to The Booth and started getting ready for the day.

The Booth was famous for a few different things. The music, the burgers and my muffins. And no, I was not referring to my tits.

I got through one year of college before my mom got sick enough that I needed to drop out to focus on her. She was not happy but there was no way in hell I was going to be in New Orleans at Tulane when she was alone in Austin. And being a stupid nineteen-year-old I’d convinced myself that I would go back to college, but I didn’t. Honestly, I didn’t care. I missed Austin and Evie and David. And I really missed my momma. So, I came home and David hooked me up at The Booth. He’d been playing gigs and was in real good with Rosa
and Lenny. Within a year, he’d taught me all I needed to know to manage the place and I found that I loved it. I’d developed a true affection for a lot of the regulars. I got to hear the live bands and even sang every now and again.

Sundays, however, were special. On Sundays, I came in early to bake sweet breads and muffins. And whatever I sold, Rosa let me keep the profits. That was at least an extra two hundred bucks in my pocket a week. And all that extra went into my Booth fund.

In addition to my job at the bar, I worked a few mornings for Benny. Plus, I cleaned about fifteen businesses a week. Every extra dime I made, with the exception of the occasional pedicure, went to the fund.

Rosa had been itching to go back home to Oklahoma since her husband died. And she and I had an agreement. When she was ready to sell, I got first crack at The Booth
. It was my place and I wanted it. Rosa just didn’t have the heart to make changes, but I did. A bigger stage and a better kitchen was just the start. The place was already legendary; I was going to make it epic.

So I started on dry ingredients, ignored that fact that my car was still dead at the side of the road and started baking.

 

The Dragan

After dropping Toni off at the bar, I went to my apartment, stripped and jumped in the shower. My mind turning over the fucked up dream from the night before. I’d scared the hell out of Antonina. No woman should wake up to some jackass screaming on her sofa. I’d been having those nightmares more often since I was back in Austin. I’d also had my fair share of erotic dreams since I’d first laid eyes on Toni. I would have preferred a wet dream to what I got this morning. Christ, just thinking about waking up to that beautiful face looking down at me got me hard. Fuck, the erection I immediately sprouted was enough to drive the images of the nightmare death from my mind. Then she had to go and be nice to me. That just fucked with my head more. And I was a prick to her. She kept pushing me to talk to her. Hearing her voice, husky with sleep, offering to help just made me harder. The woman was a flat knockout. Just wakin’ up to that. I didn’t deserve it with the way I’d been treating her but I wanted it.

But, today was the day. No more games. The call I just got clinched it.

When I’d approached Rosa about selling The Booth to me six months ago, she’d initially refused. Equivocated back and forth on why, but the answer was always no. I knew I was going to retire once the shit was done with Irina and the Drobski case. I just didn’t know how long I’d be working it in Austin.

Imbedded
agents had brought east coast operations of the syndicate to a screeching halt right around the time I’d reappeared to my brother and sisters. I thought I was going to find a family unit, tight and dirty. Instead I discovered Sergey only really had a relationship with Brenna. And that was predicated on keeping Irina and the rest of the family at a distance. My brother was a good cop. And a righteous man. They’d asked him to do a favor that wasn’t on the up and up and he cut them loose. In truth, I was fucking relieved. I needed him as a professional ally. And in truth, I missed him. I had great memories of Sergey. He was a great big brother. And then I met Evelyn Snow. Lovely Evie made me her mission. She was going to save me. I hated lying to her. I needed her to think, I was a bad dude. Shit, I could be a bad guy but she wouldn’t hear of it. She was going to save me. I loved that woman instantly. She was soft and warm. Considerate and funny. Evelyn was a big reason I was ready to make Austin home again.

On New Year’s Eve
, I went to a party at The Booth. It was a celebration. Not only of the New Year but that afternoon Rosa Sabin verbally accepted my offer to buy the bar. Hell, she’d agreed to sell the whole damn building. I had the block and I had big plans. She just had one stipulation. Stay away from Toni Hume. No mention of the sale in the bar. She didn’t want anyone to know yet. So, I’ve been vague with Sergey and Evie. Just let them know I was ready to retire and make a life in Austin.

At the time, I thought nothing of it. I’d seen Toni at the bar. She seemed like a typical Texan beauty queen. All looks and no substance. She was also rude, pushy, opinionated and self-absorbed
. Rosa asked me to stay clear. I thought it would be easy. It didn’t take long to figure out that Toni was not easy to ignore. And then at that New Year’s party she walked right up to me and offered herself. And I had to say no! I had to look into that face and decline the honor of getting between those legs. Fucking torture. And the only way to keep from falling to my knees and begging for another chance was to be a dick.

But now, finally after weeks, I got a ca
ll from my attorney saying Rosa had signed on the dotted line last night. The contract was in his hands and ready for me. The Booth was mine. I’d been so worried she was going to back out of the deal. She’d started refusing to meet at the bar to talk. She kept asking about keeping staff on when I took over. There was no way in hell people would be fired. She wanted my assurances that Toni’s job was safe. Of course it fucking was. I didn’t want to blow shit up. I just wanted something clean for me to have. I was coming back into the fold. I was coming back solid. And Antonina Hume was going to be mine.

Standing there in the crappy little
shower, holding my cock once again at the thought of Antonina, I decided this was the last time I’d jack it in the shower because of the state of perma-hard on that woman kept me in.

BOOK: Let Me In-Dragan's Tale: The Mikhailov Brothers
3.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Paper Hearts by Courtney Walsh
Be My Texas Valentine by Jodi Thomas, Linda Broday, Phyliss Miranda, Dewanna Pace
Blue Blue Eyes: Crime Novel by Helena Anderson
Amazing Grace by Watchman Nee
The Profession by Steven Pressfield
Buttoned Up by Kylie Logan
In My Wildest Dreams by Christina Dodd
Above by Isla Morley