Leaning down, I pressed my forehead to hers, just being for a minute. I finally pulled away, picked up my clothes and put them on. Zipping up my sweater, I pulled up the hood and finally faced my Kisa. She was staring at the ground, but she looked up and a sad smile pulled on her lips.
I strode toward her and tugged her into my chest, once again inhaling her scent. “Will you still want me after I kill Durov?”
Kisa froze, but her head began to nod against my chest. “Yes, lyubov moya,” she said almost silently. “I have been with Alik for so long. He needed me to live, couldn’t stand being without me.”
Kisa pulled back from my chest but didn’t look up. Her hands played with the string on my sweater. “I’ve always known he was… different, dangerous. Always known he wasn’t like everybody else… but I put up with it because, well, he was all I’d ever known for so long, and I knew he’d kill me if I tried to leave. He wouldn’t survive without me next to him. He’d unravel, he become too dark, too unrestrained.” Kisa sucked in a deep breath as my heart ached at the tone of her voice. “But I didn’t know he’d taken you from me, taken my brother from me. I’d asked him about that day so much in the beginning and he swore to me that you had killed Rodion. Now everything I’ve ever believed has just come crashing down.”
“And your father? What will he do?” I asked, feeling a wave of possessiveness over Kisa. Jealous that Durov had had her all these years. That he’d made her believe he needed her so much she could never be with anyone else.
She was mine. Not his. Never his… MINE!
Kisa glanced away, seeming lost in her head. “When Papa finds out what Alik did to his son, his heir, his pride and joy, and then finds out who you are, that you are innocent, he’ll want Alik dead too.”
“He will?” I asked in confusion.
Kisa faced me and her head tilted to the side. “Luka… do you remember if you had any family here in Brooklyn? Do you know how you know me? Why we grew up together? Why you knew Rodion and Alik?”
My hands started to sweat and my headache grew stronger again. My eyes squeezed shut and my stomach clenched, my breath pausing in my throat.
“Luka! Luka!” Kisa prompted, and I let out a long exhale as my eyes snapped back open. Sweat beaded on my forehead and I felt as though I’d been punching a bag for three hours straight.
“Don’t try and remember right now,” Kisa instructed, and I focused on her eyes, on her hand that rested on my cheek. “Don’t. You’re tired. You’ve put yourself through too much tonight. The color has gone from your face.”
Kisa’s fingers stroked my stubbled cheek and the feeling was hypnotic. I breathed with the rhythm of her caress until my heart began to slow.
“Good, lyubov moya,” Kisa soothed.
Once I had calmed, I nodded my head, telling her I was good.
Kisa’s question stabbed at my mind. A family? People who… loved me? I couldn’t even imagine it. Another stab of pain tortured my mind, but I knew I had to block it out. To block out everything but the fight against Durov.
I would finally get my revenge.
“We need to go,” Kisa said reluctantly, and taking her outstretched hand, we walked back over the sand toward Serge, climbing in his awaiting car.
A while later, we arrived at the gym and I kissed Kisa on the lips.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Luka,” she whispered. “I’ll try and come to you before the fight.”
Nodding my head curtly, I opened the door of the car but paused to look over my shoulder, thinking how beautiful Kisa truly was. “I…” I cleared my throat, tipped my head to the side, and said, “I… love… you.”
The words felt strange coming from my lips, but when Kisa’s eyes began filling with tears and her mouth pulled into a huge, watery smile, I knew these three words were right.
Love. A new yet somehow familiar emotion for me.
Kisa scrambled over the seat and crushed her lips against mine. As she pulled back, she whispered, “I love you too. So much. So, so much.”
Nodding again, I hid the sense of warmth filling my body. It took me by surprise. I didn’t know how to deal with such things.
“Tomorrow,” I said, stroking my thumb across her soft face and stood.
“Tomorrow,” Kisa said in reply.
Serge tipped his hat at me from the driver’s door.
I backed away into the shadows of the gym, once again one with the darkness.
With each step I took to my training room, I mentally chanted the words: