Chapter Twenty-Two

W atching the fire burn, Saint traced a finger up and down Mia’s bare arm, wondering why he couldn’t say the words. They were stuck in his throat like a lump of half-swallowed food.

I love you.

He opened his mouth then promptly closed it when nothing came out. Fuck. He was so damaged after all he’d been through, maybe he wasn’t even capable of such a strong emotion. If he couldn’t even say the words—three little words—how would he be able to give Mia the love she deserved? Doubts plagued him and, once again, he questioned if he would ever be good enough for the amazing woman in his arms.

Goddamn intense feelings tore him apart inside and he struggled to process the maelstrom of emotions making his chest swell and his eyes blur. He scowled. Why was everything suddenly bleary and fuzzy as fuck?

Oh, hell. The answer hit him upside the head when he felt the unmistakable slide of a hot tear down his cheek. Of course, Mia turned to look up at him right at that moment and he ground his teeth together, wanting to sink into the floor and disappear.

“Nik?” She reached up, twisting around in his arms, and wiped the salty anomaly away. “What’s wrong?”

Moment of truth. “I’m not good enough for you, Mia,” he said, voice low and full of uncertainty.

He wished he was, but the honest to God truth was he didn’t deserve her and would never be worthy of the angel in his arms. Holding her, making love to her, claiming her like he did was probably akin to blasphemy.

Of course, he was already destined for hell, so there was that.

“I disagree,” she stated stubbornly.

But, he shook his head. “You don’t want me. I’ve been through too much, done too much. Darkness clings to me and you’re this beautiful white light, Mia. I don’t want to stain you with my sins.”

Pulling away, she sat up and sent him a stern look. “Nikolai Vasilevsky, don’t you dare believe you aren’t good enough. For me or for anyone. You’re the bravest, strongest, most incredible man I’ve ever met. You saved my life and I’ll be forever grateful to you.”

His gaze dropped down to the ink on the back of his hands, a permanent reminder of everything he’d done. Terrible things that would haunt him until the day he died. “I’ve killed people, Mia. Hurt people in unimaginable ways.”

“Tell me why?” she whispered softly, attention moving down to the black symbols tattooed all over the back of his fingers and hands.

“The Bratva demanded it, the Vory expected it, and the FSS and The Agency ordered it. Sometimes I questioned things, other times I didn’t. But I always delivered what was expected of me.”

“What’s the Vory?” Her azure eyes, so full of innocence, glowed in the firelight.

He swallowed hard. He never talked about his past but, in that moment, he made the decision to answer any questions Mia might ask. Tonight, in front of the flames, he would bare his soul in confession to her.

“The Vory are the leaders in Russian prisons. It’s a special status of criminal authority. Vor v zakone .”

“What’s that?”

“Thief in Law. In prison, the thief is the law if you’re a part of the Vory subculture,” he explained. “Petrov wanted allies on the inside and he sent me behind bars, making sure I was welcomed by all the Vory.”

“You went to prison for him?” she asked, voice full of shock.

“Against my will, yes. But the alternative was death. So he set me up to be arrested for crimes committed. I was betrayed by the man I considered my savior, a father figure, and left to rot in the bowels of hell. All so he could gain more power. More control. More wealth.”

“I’m sorry.”

He nodded, lost in thought. After a moment, he pulled in a breath and forced himself to continue, determined to get it all out.

“Each new thief is made and vetted. There are rituals and every tattoo is symbolic.”

“How do you get tattooed in prison?”

“With very primitive tools,” he answered dryly.

Mia reached for his hand and touched the circle with a dot inside on his right ring finger. “What does this mean?”

“It’s known as ‘The Roundstone’ and indicates an orphan. Nadeisya tolko na sebya or ‘Rely only upon yourself’.”

“Jesus.” Her gaze moved to the letters КОТ along his knuckles. “And this?”

“ Korennoy obitatel tiurmy. It indicates a native-born inmate and means ‘cat’ , ” he explained. Talking about the ink he was forced to endure so many years ago felt freeing in a weird sort of way. He couldn’t exactly explain it, but telling her made him feel a little lighter. As though a burden had been lifted and there were no more secrets he needed to keep.

“Cat?” she echoed.

He nodded, watching the way her small fingers trailed over his, studying each symbol inked into his skin. “Cats are very respected in Russian prisons. Unlike dogs who are considered cop animals.”

“And the star?” After lacing her fingers through his, she zeroed in on the eight-pointed star on his neck.

“The main tattoo. Vorovskoy mir or World of Thieves.”

“Well, the Madonna and Child must mean something nice, right?”

A sad smile curved his mouth. “One might think. But, no, it signifies a criminal lifestyle from a young age.”

Suddenly, explaining each meaning didn’t feel so good anymore. It merely reminded him who he was and where he came from. And why he never should’ve touched Mia.

“And these letters—” He flashed the МИР on the back of his other hand, “—sums it all up.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“ Menya ispravit rasstrel. It means I’ll never be rehabilitated or re-educated. Literally, ‘a shooting will rehabilitate me’.”

“I don’t believe that and I hope you don’t either,” she said passionately. “You’re a good man, Nik. Yes, you had a rough time growing up, but your options were limited and you did what you had to in order to survive. No one can blame you for that.”

Maybe, maybe not.

“How did you get out of prison?” Once again, she threaded her delicate fingers through his and he felt a wave of strength flow into him from her touch.

“An opportunity presented itself and I made a deal with the FSS. They would get me out and, in return, I would go back to Petrov and work deep undercover. I’d provide intel on his operations and hopefully stay alive. I accepted. Anything was better than that fucking prison.”

“What happened?”

“I went back to Petrov and resisted the urge to kill him every moment of every day. I told him I’d escaped and I wasn’t going back to that hell on earth. And, once again, I pledged my loyalty to the Bratva. They were all lies, but I would’ve said anything before going back to prison.”

“Did he discover you were a double agent?”

“Yeah.” He released a shaky sigh, not wanting to expose her to the dirty details. “Suffice it to say, someone found out and ratted me out. Petrov had me tortured for—”

His voice cracked and Mia squeezed his hands. “You’re safe now.”

“For days,” he finished, voice barely audible. “At one point in my life or another, everyone has deserted me, Mia. I don’t know anything else. I’m not sure I can say the words you deserve to hear. I’ve never said them to anyone or heard them told back to me and—”

“I love you, Nik!” she blurted out.

He blinked, but she didn’t stop. Just kept repeating it over and over, leaning forward and dropping kisses along his chest.

“I love you, Nik…I love you, Nik…” She made her way higher, trailing kisses up his neck, along his jaw, continuing to whisper the words like a prayer. When she reached his face, she cupped it between her hands and locked eyes with him. “I love you so damn much, Nikolai. You don’t have to say the words back. Only if and when you’re ready.”

Pure, unadulterated love like he’d never known before pummeled him. He tugged her onto his lap and slid his hands through her loose hair. Holding her head, he brought his lips to within a breath of hers. For a long, silent moment, he breathed her in, finding the courage to express the words inked across his heart.

“I…love…you,” he whispered brokenly.

◆◆◆

His heartfelt admission brought tears to Mia’s eyes. She knew how hard it was for him to utter those words and confide in her about his past. But it would get easier. She had every faith in the big, scarred man holding her. One day, they would have all of his broken pieces glued back together. The last one of her doubts dissolved away. He’d revealed so much of himself, risked so much for her, and she knew what they had found was a forever kind of thing.

One step at a time, though. She wouldn’t push him or demand much. Well, not too much.

“Kiss me, Nik,” she whispered fervently.

His lips closed the small distance between them and their mouths melded. Deeply, passionately. They exchanged a silent promise with their lips that included many tomorrows and endless I love yous.