Epilogue
Daniil – Six months later
The sound of metal clanking and then something falling over, followed by loud cursing from Mikhail, has me glancing up from my laptop on the couch. Groaning happens a second later, and I push myself up, walking toward where the sound came from.
I come to an abrupt halt in the doorway when I see Mikhail standing up from the floor, covered in paint.
He turns around and glares at me.
The ladder is sideways on the floor, and purple paint is splattered everywhere, dripping down the wall in streaks.
He’s been losing his mind being home for less than twenty-four hours.
We just came back from our cabin trip yesterday, and it’s barely nine in the morning, but he decided now was the perfect time to paint.
We’re supposed to drive to the beach later, so maybe starting a painting project wasn’t the best idea.
“Don’t you dare say anything,” he grumbles, walking past me and pressing his lips to the side of my head before heading toward the bathroom.
I huff when I see all the paint on the floor. I’m not cleaning that up, no thank you.
It’s been six months since we moved here, and he’s been slowly painting all the rooms for me, one by one. I love him so much for it.
He’s still working at Ozero, running the clubs and handling day-to-day operations there. He’s also taken over our private investment firm, using his business degree from college. And he’s been clean from benzos, coke, and molly for the past six months. That’s the part that makes me the proudest.
Turning around, I follow after him and find him inside the shower. I strip down before stepping in behind him. My weight has come back on, and I’ve filled out again, muscles defined the way they used to be. He loves running his tongue over my abs and biting them when we’re in bed.
My arms wrap around him from behind, and he turns, pulling me close. All the paint is gone from his skin now, washed away by the water.
He looks down at me, still grumpy. “Have you packed yet?”
“I have. Everything’s ready.”
“Good. And you got what I told you to?”
“Yes, I got a shitload of weed from Calder.”
He hums and presses a kiss into my hair. His body is incredible. He’s put all the weight back on too and has even more muscle than he did before. It does something to me. My cock swells, and he looks down at me.
“Insatiable. Can’t ever get enough of me, can you?”
“You already know the answer to that.”
He picks me up, pressing me against the shower wall and shoving his tongue into my mouth, swirling with mine.
“But we’re not doing it right now,” he says, pulling back.
I frown. “Why?”
“We don’t have time for it.”
What is he on about? We have plenty of time for whatever we want. The beach isn’t going to disappear.
“I’ll fuck you at our rental though,” he says, licking up my neck and biting my earlobe. His mouth crashes to my lips again, and he kisses me fiercely. I try to rub up against him, but he puts me down.
“Stop teasing me,” I mutter.
He grabs my watermelon soap and lathers us up, hands sliding over my skin in a way that’s definitely not helping my situation. I reach down to stroke myself, and he slaps my hand away.
“Hands off.”
Ugh. “Fine.”
We rinse off, and he pushes me out of the shower. We get dressed and head for the door, picking up our bags on the way out.
We make our way to my car, and he takes the keys out of my hands, pointing toward the passenger seat. He got his license back two months ago, and now I’m not allowed to drive anywhere. Not that I care, I like watching him drive.
Once we’re in with our bags shoved behind the headrests, I look over at him. “So why the hurry?”
He grins. “Secret.”
He’s acting suspiciously, but fine.
“If this involves anything illegal, I’m waiting in the car so I can drive us away when it goes wrong,” I mumble.
The car takes off, and he speeds down our driveway, gravel crunching under the tires. We pass through the big gate, and he turns onto the main road, one hand on the wheel and the other reaching over to rest on my thigh.
“It’s not illegal,” he finally says.
His hands keep rubbing slow circles around my crotch, and I push into him again, trying to get more friction, more anything. He just smirks and speeds toward the city, ignoring my attempts to grind against him.
We’ve both been going to therapy. More me than him at first, until he caught on to what I was doing, dragging him to all those appointments. Then he got his own therapist, but he always asks me to come with him. He still struggles to open up about everything he went through.
Some sessions he sits there silently for forty minutes.
Other times he’ll say one thing that cracks both of us wide open.
I think we’re going to be working through this for a long time.
Healing isn’t linear or whatever therapists say.
It’s a mess of good days and bad days, just like everything else.
Things escalated after Father’s funeral, but everything’s better now that he’s gone.
All the idiots still argue with Mikhail about who should have gotten to stab him.
Yulian brings it up at least once a month like he’s keeping score, claiming he had dibs or some other ridiculous reason why it should have been him.
Mikhail usually tells him to fuck off. It’s become a running joke at this point.
Our mother is happier now. She’s redecorated her house so it’s brighter and warmer, with new curtains and lighter paint on the walls, flowers in every room. I think he was draining the life out of her too, sucking all the color and air from everything he touched.
He comes to a stop outside a building, and we get out of the car. My eyes narrow when I see the sign for the animal shelter hanging above the entrance. Oh.
A grin spreads across my face. “Seriously? We’re getting our border collies?”
“Yup. Kelly told me they have two, female and male, that arrived yesterday.”
“I’m so excited.”
“Me too,” he says with a grin.
We make our way into the shelter, and the woman at the desk walks us back to the kennels. We come to a stop in front of the cage where they keep the puppies. Both of them are the typical border collie coloring, black and white with bright alert eyes that track our every movement.
“They’re so cute,” I say, crouching down to get a better look.
The woman opens the kennel door and gestures us inside. “You can spend some time with them, and then we’ll handle the paperwork. They can go home with you today.”
“We have no space in the car for—”
“Don’t worry about it,” Mikhail cuts in, grinning. The dogs lose their minds as soon as we’re close enough, jumping and wagging and demanding attention. We let them sniff our hands, getting familiar with our scent.
One of them launches at Mikhail and licks all over his face. He huffs out a laugh and starts scratching her behind her ears.
“What should we name them?” I ask, scratching behind the male’s ears while he leans into my hand. “We can pick a name each?”
He shrugs. “I choose Lumi for the female.”
“Good choice,” I say, grinning at him. “Sammy for the male then.”
“Perfect.” He keeps scratching and rubbing both of them, and I grab onto Lumi, wrapping my arms around her. The fur is so soft between my fingers, and I run my hands through it.
Sammy looks over at me from Mikhail and jumps onto me hard enough to knock me flat on my back. Then both of them hop onto me and lick my face, their little paws scrambling over my chest.
Mikhail’s laughter echoes through the kennel, and he grabs onto them, pulling them off. “Okay, okay, get off him.”
Pushing myself up, they immediately turn their attention to him. He picks up a toy and throws it across the space. They both take off running after it, then race back to drop it at his feet. He throws it again, and I just watch him, biting my lip. He looks so happy right now.
“You’re staring at me,” he says without looking up from the dogs.
“I know.” I don’t even try to deny it. “You look happy.”
“I am happy.” He glances at me, and his smile softens.
Crawling over, I sit down next to him. The dogs immediately climb onto both our laps, tongues hanging out of their mouths from all the excitement. We both run our hands through their fur, and I lean into Mikhail’s side.
“We should bring them to our tree,” I say.
“We could hide treats for them in there.”
“The ants will eat them, Mikhail.”
He rolls his eyes. “They so won’t.”
I raise my eyebrow at him, and he grins at me.
I can’t wait to spoil them. I’m going to bring them everywhere, buy them the most ridiculous collars and outfits, get them every single toy I see.
I’m going to be way more over the top about this than Mikhail is, and he has no idea what he’s gotten himself into.
He crushes his mouth to mine, quick and rough. “I’m so excited for the next part.”
“Next part?” I pull back enough to look at him, confused.
He hums against my lips before kissing me again.
We sit with the dogs for a while, letting them get used to us and play with them. The woman returns with collars and leashes, helping us get everything squared away. When we finally walk out of the shelter with the paperwork signed, Alexei and Kelly are waiting by their car at the curb.
“We’ll take the dogs until you’re done,” Kelly says, taking both leashes from Mikhail. He crouches down immediately to pet them, and both puppies attack him.
What is he planning? I glance at Mikhail, trying to read his expression, but he just looks smug.
He parks in some random lot downtown and looks at me before pulling me in and shoving his tongue into my mouth. His hand slides to the back of my neck.
“I can’t wait to be inside you later. You’re making me so hard. I regret not fucking you earlier. You’re killing me,” he groans against my mouth before pulling back, breathing hard. “So we aren’t going to the beach, it was just a distraction. We’re staying home instead with the dogs.”
“What?” I ask, still trying to catch my breath.
“We’re getting a tattoo.”
“A tattoo?”
“Come on.”