Abby #2
“He insulted you,” Misha whispers, looking down at the skillet of now burnt butter.
He turns to face me with pain in his eyes and speaks up slightly.
“Not you, per se, but he insulted my girl.” He pauses, looking down at his balled fist, and flexes it straight.
“And anyone else who dares to even speak poorly of you will meet the same fate.”
His confession halts my panic, and I’m finally able to breathe. He’s not doing anything that would indicate violence, but still, I worry. “Misha?”
“Yes?”
“I’m going to need you to explain yourself…please.”
His expression softens as he breathes a sigh of relief. “Of course, sweet girl. What would you like to know?”
“Everything,” I whisper. Because it’s true. If I’m going to even consider rebuilding my life with this man, I need to know who he is. I will not make the same mistake I did with Conor. He seemed like the most golden retriever around, and ended up being more violent than I could ever imagine
Misha pulls a barstool out across from where I’m sitting. “Okay, Abby, I’ll tell you everything.” He sighs again and rubs his temples. “For starters, I’m a pretty important officer in a very powerful Bratva outfit.”
Bratva…there’s that word again. The one beside Teddy’s name…
“Do you know what a Bratva is?”
I shake my head.
“I would assume you’ve heard of the Mafia.”
I nod.
“Bratva is the Russian equivalent of that.”
I look down at my twiddling thumbs. “And you’re…an important official?”
“Yes. I haven’t always been.” He sighs again.
“Okay, let me take you back to the beginning. I was born in Russia. My father handed me over to the Bratva to be raised as a soldier. I was the payment for his debts. I was so young I don’t even remember the bastard’s face.
It was rough, but growing up in the compound at least guaranteed food and a roof over my head.
I trained hard, gave it everything I had, and along the way befriended the Pakhan’s grandchild. ”
“Pakhan?”
“Oh, um…Have you seen The Godfather?”
I nod.
“He would be like…Don Corleone.”
“Ahh…”
Misha waits for a moment, continuing when I don’t say anything else.
“Well, we became as thick as thieves. More like siblings than friends. There was danger in Russia, though…more than just your typical Bratva business. So we escaped and came to Thunder Bay when we were teenagers. My, um, friend’s father was the Pakhan for the outfit of the Bratva here—”
“Teddy?”
“Excuse me?”
Oh, fuck, fuck, I’m not supposed to know about Teddy being in the Bratva.
“Oh, um…Just, Ellie has mentioned that you work for her husband or with her husband or something…”
He chuckles. “Yeah, something like that. Teddy is the Pakhan now. When I moved here, it was his father in charge, but he passed away not too long ago.”
The tension in the air slowly dissipates as Misha continues to talk about his history working in the Bratva and his connection to the Santoris.
I knew from the beginning that he was a dangerous man, and it never deterred me.
With each recounting tale of his past, he only draws me in closer.
I know firsthand how vulnerable a messy past can be…
so much so that I don’t think I have the courage to return the favor and tell him about my secrets.
“Which brings us to last night, when a traitor within our ranks decided it would be wise to speak poorly of my woman. So I did what I will do to anyone who does the same…I erased his footprint from the earth.”
“So I’m your woman then?” I joke, smiling softly.
Misha reaches across the island for my hand, and I gladly give it.
“Oh, lesnaya…you’re my woman, my soulmate, my world, my entire reason for existing.
I know this is a lot to take in, but the dangers of my work won’t affect you.
I would burn the world down before I ever let harm come to you. You’re safe with me, my darling.”
I know…God, I know I’m safe with him. I feel it in my bones.
Squeezing his hand, I let go so that I can round the island and bury myself in his arms. His honesty today means more to me than he will ever understand, and I know it was hard.
As soon as I’m within his grasp, he pulls me into a deep hug and everything feels right in the world again.
“I was so scared you would hate me,” he whispers.
Oh, my poor, sweet boy. I know coming clean about his past and his life was hard because I still haven’t gained the courage to tell him my secrets.
“Misha, I…” I want to tell him about who I am so badly, but I just can’t.
It’s not even that I believe he would harm me for my deception…
but what if he doesn’t want me anymore? This is the first time I’ve felt safe in the arms of a man in a decade.
The first time I’ve felt loved by anyone in that time.
I can’t lose it. Not today. He may very well choose to leave when I eventually tell him, but not today.
I need more time. More time to bask in this happiness, the likes of which I haven’t ever felt before and never will again.
Misha tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and kisses the tip of my nose. “What is it, beautiful?”
Tears well in my eyes, and I burrow my face into the crook of his neck so that he can’t see them. “I’m so happy you felt like you could tell me the truth…It means the world to me.”
He kisses the top of my head and pets my hair. “You mean the world to me, lesnaya. I’ll always tell you any and everything.”
I’m a horrible person.
I’ll tell him soon enough. I just need to hold off for a few more weeks.
I don’t want to go to him for help without a plan, but once I figure it out, I’ll tell him everything.
And with connections to the Mafia and the Bratva, maybe I’ll actually stand a chance of taking Conor down.
I just hope my friends don’t hate me when it’s all said and done.