I curve my body around his back, hugging him tightly, needing him to know that I’m right here with him, both physically and emotionally, that he’s not alone in that darkness anymore.
He flips to the next page. “I was so dazzled by you. It made me tongue-tied. My,” he shrugs a shoulder, “…you know…only made it worse.”
I wish he could see himself the way I see him. The way Tristan, Alana, Hendrix, Constantine, and the kids see him. When I used to look in the mirror at my scars, I would see something horrific. Something to pity. But then I started to see them—to see myself—through the guys’ eyes. They never saw my scars as flaws. They saw them as something beautiful. And every part of Aleksander Stepanoff is absolutely beautiful.
I kiss the shell of his ear. “You are perfect.Myperfect,” I emphasize.
The day’s growth of rough stubble tickles my cheek when he softly kisses me. “And you are my everything. Want me to read some more?” he asks, turning the page with his thumb.
I wasn’t going to push, so I’m ecstatic when he offers. “Absolutely.” I slip out from behind him, and Aleksander wraps his arm around me when I snuggle into his side and rest my head in the crook of his shoulder. “What’s this one about?”
It’s utterly endearing when he starts to blush. “The, uh…the marriage contract.”
I pinch his side. There is no give at all. His body is all defined muscle. “Oh, that little thing.”
I was so angry when I found out what my mother did, but I can’t regret it because it was the catalyst that set everything into motion. I’m a believer that things, good or bad, happen for a reason and help pave the paths we choose to travel. I don’t believe in fate, but I do believe in destiny.
Getting comfortable, I trace the E of the DEVIL inked above his knuckle before threading our fingers together, then close my eyes when I feel the vibrations inside his chest as he begins to read.
Four
Journal Entry
Twelve years old
Sound echoesaround the expansive training room when my body slams into the mat with a resoundingthud.
Smirking like an asshole, Aleksei offers me a hand up. “That’s three,” he says, keeping a tally of how many times he’s knocked me flat on my ass.
Smacking his proffered hand away, I get to my feet. “There won’t be a fourth.”
Aleksei laughs like what I just said is the funniest thing in the world, but then his entire demeanor changes. “We’ll see.”
Getting into a fighter’s stance, Aleksei rolls his shoulders, cracks his neck, then signals for me to come at him. As soon as my arm extends with a right jab, he hooks his foot around my ankle and uses my arm as a fulcrum to twist my body. All the breath gets knocked out of me when my back hits the mat.Hard.
Goddammit!
Aleksei drops onto my chest and presses his knee into my neck. “Tap out.”
My lungs burn with a desperate need for oxygen when he increases the pressure. “No,” I croak.
He rolls off me, then tosses me a bottle of water when I sit up. “You’re off your game today.”
“Fuck you,” I reply, and he smiles.
“You signal your move when you drop your left shoulder,” Pyotr says from the other side of the room.
I give him a good-humored middle finger while guzzling water to ease the hellfire burning in my throat. I’m sure I’ll have a visible round bruise on my neck by tonight.
“Didn’t know you’d be crashing today.”
Pyotr shrugs at Aleksei’s comment. “In the neighborhood.”
Which means he had his driver bring him here.
“I’m going to take a shower. I’ve had enough of kicking your ass for one day,” Aleksei says and taps fists with Pyotr on his way out.
I watch my twin leave, and Pyotr must see the concern on my face.
