BAD APPLE: The Complete Series (Parts 1-5) (25 page)

“Because I’m an obligation, Vika, and Misha takes his responsibilities very seriously. I bet he’s thinking that he can give me everything I need in exchange for whatever it was he needed. Wait! My bakery? Did you say something about a deal and my bakery?” I gasp, feeling actual flames scorch my eyeballs.

Oh no, fuck no, this is not happening. Please tell me that man did not endanger the one thing in my life that would have killed me to lose.

“Erm,” she squeaks, looking like a dear caught in the headlights.

“Talk.”

Misha

Once I’ve told Max and Vadim everything that needs to be said, I rise and stretch, eager to get back to Irina and lay some hands on her before I have to lie to her about her need to stay here while I go out and fake seduce a woman who makes my dick want to crawl back up into my balls.

The air is chilly when we reach the kitchen, and I’m not talking temperature. I’m talking atmosphere. Vika and Irina both look fit to be tied, though I note Vika is sporting a very unbecoming look that’s got her eyes darting all over the place but me.

Shit. What now?

“Hey, angel, can we go somewhere private and talk?” I ask quietly, going in for a kiss.

Fuck me, I’ve missed those lips. One measly kiss earlier is not going to get me where I need to be. No, I might level off sometime next week if I keep our mouths locked together the whole time.

Maybe.

“Sure.”

Her reply is curt, and I shrug when Vadim throws me a look, his own surprise at this out-of-character display as great as my own. Irina does have a temper, I know, but the woman would still be polite to someone who spit in her eye.

The tense set of her shoulders and the way she stalks instead of skipping as she usually does has my spine going stiff. I leave the kitchen to follow her into one of the lower living rooms with my heart twisting with trepidation.

I can never afford to be complacent with her. Irina may be soft, but the woman will leave me in a heartbeat and have me groveling if I mess with her feelings.

I’ve been there twice now. I have no intention of ever feeling that shit again.

She walks in ahead of me and I close the door, taking note of the distance she’s put between us when I turn back and see her standing near the sofa, far enough away that she seems not to want to be near me.

The action has my eyes narrowing on her as I take a deep breath and wait her out.

“I wanted to say thank you so much for coming. I know…I know that it must have been really scary for you to hear about all this. I mean, we’re still friends, so…”

I’m not your friend, sweetheart. I’m your man.

“Angel, let’s get one thing straight here. You and me, we’ve never been friends a day since we met. You’re mine. You see that ring on your finger, this one on mine? That means we belong to each other,” I growl, stalking closer and hating the way she seems to go into a panic, though from the white-knuckled grasp she has on the back of the sofa, she’s trying not to move or show weakness.

“I left you.”

“Uh, yes, I noticed that. I’m taking you back,” I say.

“No.”

Stubborn woman.

“No?”

“No. I don’t want to be your doormat anymore. You love someone else and you’re a user. A user!” she yells, making me grin when her temper suddenly explodes.

That shit is so sexy when taking into account how soft she is inside.

“When were you going to tell me about the bubonic plague you unleashed in my store? Huh? Huh! Why? Why would you do something like that to me, you-you creep. And Maxie? Feliks? That sister of yours, who, by the way, told me my ass was fat…stupid cow! What is it with you, Misha? I’m so confused right now. I don’t know what to do with you. Or me,” she rants, her cheeks going a delicate pink as she starts pacing and throwing her hands in the air.

“Angel.”

“Don’t! Don’t you dare do that soft-voiced bullshit with me.”

“Language, Irina. I won’t say it again. Now stop yelling and sit down. We need to talk,” I mutter, grabbing at my hair.

Shit needs a cut, but with the way things are going, I’ll be sporting a full head before I get the chance.

“I don’t wanna sit down. I’m hurt. You know I have feelings, you freaking cyborg! I feel things and this is just too much. You kiss another woman, that troll! I convince myself to get over it,” she yells, throwing me a filthy look when I can’t restrain a chuckle.

I can’t wait to tell Mina what my wife thinks of her.

“Don’t laugh. And then you go and freaking have some lovey-dovey phone calls with her when you know how I feel, and that hurt my feelings. Feelings, Misha. You know those little things that make you cry when they’re injured?”

She keeps pacing, stalking just the way I would when I’m ready to go nuts, and the sight is so adorable that I can’t stop a smile from curling my lips. The woman does not appreciate that. Not one bit.

I know because she grabs a vase and hurls it at me. Hard.

“Stop laughing at me!”

She’s crying now, burying her face in her hands and I’m there in a heartbeat, unsure of whether to laugh or cry at this point. She’s so damn adorable in a fit of pique, but her tears shred me.

“Oh, angel. Shh, baby, don’t do that. Don’t cry, please,” I coo, kissing her hair as she burrows closer.

“I hate you.”

              “Angel.”

“Because I freaking love you and you’re just an ass. I thought you were so much better, and then you turn out to be worse. She doesn’t love you! Open your eyes, you thick-headed idiot and see that. Please. She’s a dick. You know she’s in with those idiots who want me dead? She’s floating them or some shit. I know. Mr. Knife told me!”

The name makes my shoulders shake as I try and fail to hold in the laughter. I’ve been wound so tight all freaking day, but now that I have her in my arms I’m loose and relaxed again, even knowing that she knows it all and she’s pissed.

              “Angel, please, stop hitting me. I’m not laughing at you. It’s just that you’re adorable when you’re mad and I can’t help it. Shh, stop, I want to tell you everything and I need you to stop trying to punch me in the nuts to do that. Jesus, Irina! I need those to give you kids.” I groan when she achieves her goal and my balls shoot up into my throat.

That has her stiffening and I just manage to catch what looks like fear in her eyes before she shoves away and flops on the sofa, crossing her arms, her expression mutinous.

“Oh, explain away.”

Women
.

I manage to hobble over to the sofa and fall down a good few feet from her, my hands still cradling my empty sac.

“It’s true that I had an agenda when we met, and I swear I never meant to hurt you, angel. It started as me saving a deal that was on the line, and also wanting to force the truce between our families so that Feliks could see Max.”

“So it’s true? I have a nephew?” she whispers, her eyes tearing with emotion.

“Yes. God, it still hurts. If I’m shooting blanks after this, it’s all on you.”

Nuts hurt so bad.

“Okay, I…I’m okay with that. I think. I mean, it’s kinda sweet in a weird way that you want to fix whatever the heck is going on with Feliks and Lena.”

Sweet? There’s nothing sweet about that shit. I’m only in this for Max and we all know it. At least, I was till I fell for Irina. I explain it all, from the beginning all the way to the point she caught me on the phone with Mina, and I see her eyes narrow.

“But it sucks that you’ve hoodwinked me this way, Misha. I’m not just a thing you can use whenever you need something done, you know! And, anyway, why not just come to me and discuss it? I could have helped without us having to get married. Seriously, you take your responsibilities to a whole other level they don’t need to go to. And what the hell is up with you screwing me over to seal a deal?! Low. Really low, Misha.”

I notice she’s not launching herself at my balls again and sigh with relief before shifting closer, turning my body and throwing an arm across the seat back behind her.

Ah, see? She was angry and hurt, and yet here she sits, looking lost and just curious now instead of raging mad like many other women would be. My angel is so special. God. I’m a lucky man.

“I’m sorry, Ri. So sorry.”

She snorts and throws me a sneer.

“No, you aren’t. You’re just not happy that you got caught, you big creep. You’d have done it anyway, because you think I got the better deal in the end,” she huffs. “And okay, so maybe I did, although I admit, I miss the quirkiness of the old location.
Although
, now that I’m not wanting to cut your dick off, I have to admit I like the new place but—hey! Stop touching me while I’m trying to be mad at you.”

“Come on, angel, give a little here. I am trying to apologize and explain,” I say, hating the fact that touching her is proving so difficult.

“Apologize? More like explain to me in a somewhat apologetic tone why your actions were necessary.” She snorts, pulling away to stare at me with resignation.

“I understand everything you’ve done, and trust me, I don’t really hate you for it. If you’d told me about needing the old bakery to close a deal, I would have probably sold to you. I’d have hated it, but no way would I have been okay with you screwing up your business for one little shop. What I can’t get over is the lying. You keep lying to me and I can’t stand it. So I can’t stay married to you anymore. We can still be friends. Shoot, we’ll need to be since you left me with a little something after one of your come-and-freak-out episodes,” she mutters, her eyes deep golden pools of the same fear I saw earlier.

“Oh God. You’re pregnant? For real this time?”

“Hey! That wasn’t my fault,” she complains, pinching my nipple with enough force to have me yanking away.

“Shit. Ouch, Irina. Dammit, are you…?”

“Yes. For real. I had blood tests and two urine tests done this time. And no, I’m not going to be okay if you freak out about it, even if I do understand. So if that’s what that look is all about, you can zip it up and keep it to yourself.”

The look? I have no idea what my face could convey other than utter shock. The joy hits me so hard, I don’t even register whatever fear I should feel, and it takes a whole lot of self-control to mask it when another thought slams into me.

I have to keep them safe.

“I-I’m not upset.”

“No, just horrified, you big meanie. It’s okay, sweetie. Daddy’s just an A-hole, don’t you take any of his nonsense to heart. Mama loves you. Yes, I do.”

Irina

My birth parents are awesome. Vika’s nuts and hilariously quirky as she flits around all day doing random things like changing the color of the wall in the sitting room on a whim before realizing that green and purple just don’t go well together.

Max is indulgent and just smiles as he allows his wife to turn things upside down as she pleases. He confided yesterday that she’s been this scatterbrained and whimsical about things since they reunited years ago, and he never had the heart to say anything because he understood that her sunny disposition hid some deep pain she didn’t want to admit to.

I adore the guy for that and for the gentle way he seems to coddle her at all times. It reminds me so much of Misha, I feel another teary episode on the horizon--one I won’t subject him to again since the guy turns green and starts panicking at the sight of tears.

Of course my girls have been over. Who could deny their morbid curiosity once they heard the whole story when I called them on conference call and gave them the four-one-one?

Max adores them. His favorite is Eliza, who has turned out to be a very bloodthirsty, violent little gal. All she wants for Christmas is Mina’s apple-bearing head on a platter. And Misha’s nuts as a side.

Yeah, her and Max get along just fine.

Nik, my injured baby, has decided to stay put with me for a few days because she finally did what needed to be done and gave Vadi the finger.

And I’m not talking one on his nuts in a sexual, satisfactory way. She gave him the ultimatum and demanded answers for his weird behavior and lack of commitment.

Turns out he didn’t take that too well and refused to answer. Refused to leave, too, which resulted in her crying and screaming. Like the man he is, he ran like hell at the sight of her tears.

And I got my cats back. Sweetie was his usual self, till Max caught him attacking me and threatened him in such a sinister tone that the little guy hasn’t so much as snarled at me since.

Apparently everyone and everything is afraid of Max.

“Yo, Ri, you still daydreaming about Misha or you gonna help me out here with Vika’s baking? Fuck a doodle-doo, this woman is a killer of cakes. Have you seen what she’s done to the eclairs? Who messes up eclairs? They’re ninety percent cream for God’s sake!”

“Hey! That pastry is not easy,” Vika protests, holding out a tester to Max.

Poor guy. He makes a real effort not to grimace as he bites into it, but even I hear his tooth shattering.

“Hmm, better, baby,” he murmurs, spitting it into the potted plant to my left when she turns her back. “Make it stop, Irina, I beg of you, child.”

That has Lincoln smirking till Vika skips over with one for him, and Max and I both smirk back when she stands right there and watches him eat, eagerly awaiting his verdict.

“Hmm good.”

“Good boy,” Max mutters when she beams and turns back to her science project.

“I like my nuts and limbs right where they are, Max. Chill out. You still crying about that fucktard you married, little cousin?”

“Hey!”

Nik starts laughing and high-fives him while I scowl.

“What? He’s a prick. And you’re a big old crybaby for even giving him a second thought.”

“We’re married. As in ‘till death do us part’ married. I tried telling him I’m out, but the man takes the whole concept seriously, despite the quickie wedding we had. Oh, and he was not into the idea of divorce when I told him I’m pregnant.”

“So you should have kept it quiet till he gave you a divorce. Any smart person knows you don’t let the cat outta the bag before you’ve skinned the fucker,” he grunts, swallowing with an effort.

I wish like crazy I could be the kind of person who would use deceit to my advantage. Heck, I point-blank refused to tell him and never once thought I would till we sat down together and I looked at him.

Damn my good upbringing and honest soul.

Things would be so much easier if I were a viperous hag like Mina and used other people to get what I want. Stupid morals.

“You, shut up. I heard about your idea of honesty from Igor. Dude, who tells a chick he’s got a tumor and only a week to live to get her in the sack?”

He grins unrepentantly at us all and flicks nonexistent lint from his shoulder.

“Don’t hate the player just cause he got game, baby.”

“Game? More like shame. You can’t get the kitty without lying?” Nik snorts, going at the batter she’s mixing like it’s personally affronted her.

Okay, so she’s still got issues with men right now. Noted.

“Not my fault chicks need an excuse to do what comes natural around a hottie like me. If they need the game, I’m just fine with that. Come on, she knew it was shit the minute it left my lips. She’s as much to blame as I am.”

Max just shakes his head and tries to disappear into the table when Vika opens the oven and starts biting her lip.

Uh-oh. Something smells awful. Thank God I can plead ‘baby no like.’ The others have no choice but to poison themselves to keep her happy.

“Don’t shit on my plate just cause you’re crying over a guy who’s married and still eating on the side.”

              Nik freezes, going so still I can see her heartbeat from here, and looks at him. Her face is pale and Vika stops what she’s doing and rushes over to throw an arm around her shoulder.

“Lincoln.”

“Nah, Max. It’s not fair to keep her in the dark like this. It’s cruel.’

“And this isn’t?”

“Yeah, it is, but at least she’ll stop crying her fucking eyes out at night and get mad. Anger will let her heal, eventually. I can’t take this crying shit with her anymore when I know that prick doesn’t deserve it. Nik, honey, the man is married to one of the Romanov bastards. He’s been with her for five years now, and I don’t see any of that changing since her father will level anyone he loves if Vadim abandons her. She’s in a wheelchair, and though not many know about the marriage, from what I have found out, they despise each other. Still, he’s hers for the next fifty years, at least, or till the poor schmuck snaps and offs her in her sleep. Whatever. You can’t have him. He’s already taken.”

Nik shakes Vika off and runs out of the room, the sound of her feet on the stairs loud in the silence.

“Shit.”

“Good going, fool. Was that really necessary?” Max growls, standing with a curse, no doubt ready to go comfort her.

Seems Vika and Max think they have four daughters since they’ve claimed my girls, too, and Max takes fatherhood seriously.

“Yeah it was. I don’t like seeing chicks cry, you know it, and I hate even more seeing them cry over some prick who thinks he can take the milk and beat the cow, too. I may be an asshole, but at least I never make any promises I don’t intend to keep, even inadvertently. He told her he loves her. Or at least made her think so.”

“What if he does?” I ask miserably, not sure who I pity more, Nik or Vadi.

The man really does love her, I’ve seen it with my own eyes, so whatever is going on must be absolute torture for him.

“If he did he would have left his wife already or stayed away from Nikita completely, Ri. But he’s selfish. He wanted her
knowing
he could never give her what she needs, and that, in my book, is worse than the whole cheating thing. A man should either give of himself completely or not at all. Max taught me that, and I’ve seen for years what a real man does, how he makes his wife happy. I’m not too into the shit those Novacs seem to accept with their woman, and it’s not my business.”

“Exactly! You should have stayed out of it. She was hurting enough. Why make it your business?” I yell.

“Oh? Maybe because I get to hear her crying at night while I’m trying to fucking sleep! Shit, she’s been at it since she got here, and I won’t have it anymore. I want her mad—mad enough to smash one of Max’s antique vases.”

I cast a guilty look at Max then, since that’s exactly what I’d done. That vase I hurled was worth a whole lotta dough. At least three months’ worth of rolling dough, in my case.

He just shrugs and smiles before nodding tiredly.

“He is right. Go talk to her, Linc.”

“What? No. Why me?” he groans.

“You break it, you buy it, kid.”

“Fuck, fine, but could someone at least save my teeth then? No offense, Vik, but if I gotta test another one of your projects, I’ll need dentures.”

“Oh, I know. I just wanted to see how far Max would take this.” She giggles, planting a wet one on her husband. “Go, Linc, and for God’s sake, try to be sensitive.”

“I’m lots sensitive,” he mutters, stomping out.

“Yeah, about as sensitive as a sledgehammer,” I mutter, sitting back with a sigh.

Seriously, love sucks.

              “You need to call him.”

“Vik, I am not calling him.”

“Call him. You want to.”

“I said no.”

“Stop being stubborn and call him. At least call him for some phone sex at night. I remember being pregnant. Phone sex might help.”

“Oh Christ. Stop, Vika baby. I do not want to think of my kid having…doing those things, woman!”

“What? You think she got our grandchild in her belly magically, Maximillian?” she rolls her eyes and plonks onto his lap. “I recall a time when you put a baby in me, and it did not involve me being a good girl and remaining pure.”

That has him grinning, and I roll my own eyes and gag good naturedly when he starts kissing her and doing God knows what to her under the table. I don’t wanna know. She’s squirming and giggling. Enough said.

“Ahem. Impressionable child here.”

Max chuckles and releases her with one last, loud smooch, and I curl my lips and look away. The hand’s still out of sight. Gross.

“You’re about as impressionable as a block of concrete, child. But my Vika may be right. Maybe, just call him. Whatever you do is up to you.” He pulls a face and has the nerve to shudder. “But talk to him. Misha—he’s a stubborn boy, and while I may agree with what he thinks is right, the man needs a lot of guidance. Right now he thinks staying away from you is protecting you.”

“What about the whole…” I pause, deciding that bringing Mina up is not a good idea since Vika is still threatening to sneak out of the house and “show that bitch what mothers do when you threaten their child.”

“He doesn’t love me.” I sigh sadly, pouting.

“Bullshit. The man is a goner.”

“Um, that would be a negative. He’s never said it.”

“So? What good are words? Words are easy. Any man can say these words to get what he wants, Irina. It’s the actions that count, child. I know Misha loves you because instead of throwing those words around so easily, the boy proves it every day. Does he nag you to eat?”

I nod.

“See? Love. Does he take you to work in the morning and collect you when you’re done?”

Another nod.

“Does he phone you a hundred times a day for no apparent reason that makes your friends laugh at you because they think he’s being a controlling ass?”

I gulp and nod.

“Does he sleep wrapped around you like a vine, every part of his body touching yours, no matter how warm it is or that he’s arm goes dead from pillowing your head?”

Oh crap.
I nod.

“This is love, Irina. I know because I do it for my Vika. It’s a man wanting every part of his wife to be with him always, even when he cannot physically be there all the time. We see something that makes our heart beat for the very first time and we lose a little of ourselves trying to keep it without being vulnerable to the intensity of the emotions we feel. With Misha, it is harder, though, and I do not envy the boy. He’s had a tough start with love, and the losses he has suffered do not make it easier, daughter. He loved Mina, if that is really what he felt, and she made him feel lacking. He loved little Minkie with all his heart and he lost her. A part of himself died with her. Losing a child will change a man irreparably, I know this, I wanted to die when I found out my baby was gone before I even knew her. Imagine loving that child for two years and losing her. It almost killed him. He’s wary of losing again and it makes surrendering to this misery that is love hard. Be the woman he needs, Irina. Show him that you will never leave him, that you are his always, and that he has nothing to fear. I promise you he will give you the words when he can. Let the actions be enough for now.”

Okay, I seriously love this man. Who knew that a cold-eyed Russian mobster would turn out to be my freaking Gandolf?

Max is right. How can I expect Misha to trust me enough to love me when I haven’t even earned it yet?

What a brat! Shame on you, Irina Novac. I thought your spoiled ass was better than this.

“I need a favor, Max,” I say, meeting his eyes with steely determination.

“That’s my girl.”