Let Me In-Dragan's Tale: The Mikhailov Brothers by Amanda Hough Read Free Book Online Page B

place.
    I had Mom freshened up for the evening and in her pajamas already. Her current fascination was scrapbooks, so I’d cut out all the little ends and bits she wanted to adorn the pages, pulled our Chicago trip pictures out of the envelop we got when we had them developed and set up a workstation for her at her chair. She couldn’t work scissors lately but she could glue so she was ready to create.
    I jumped in the shower, opted against washing my hair because I had too much of it and started to dress.
     
    I gave myself one more inspection at the m irror by the front door and sighed. I looked like mildly slutty Tinkerbelle. Piles of naturally blonde atop my head. Smoke and peach on my eyes and lips, in that order. A mossy-colored tunic dress, cinched at the waist with a fabulously gaudy belt four-inch heels. For a woman who barely stood above five feet tall I needed all the height I could get.
    “Momma, I ’m heading over to Evie’s now. You need anything before I go?” I rounded the corner to the living room and caught my mom trying to stand from her chair and move her craft table.
    “Mom!” I admonished. “What are you doing? Don’t stand if you don’t need to. What do you need?” As I asked I bent down and checked her catheter bag. It was still empty. I’d taken care of it before I showered but I hated the idea of her being stuck alone with a full bag.
    “I’m fine, sweetie. I just wanted to see how my legs felt. I really think this spell is ending. I feel a remission coming on.”
    I shook my head. “That’s awesome, but until the therapist clears it, you stay put.” I inventoried everything around her. Pitcher of water, her favorite crackers, latest trash novel and the phone. “You have everything you need right here. When I get home we can try to walk to the bedroom, deal?”
    I raised my eyebrow, willing her to agree.
    “Don’t talk to me like I’m a child, Antonina!”
    My face must have paled because her frown lifted immediately. “I’m so sorry baby. I’m frustrated and taken it out on you.”
    “It’s okay,” I answered.
    “No,” she said. “No, it isn’t. Baby we need to talk—”
    “Nope!” I said a little too loudly. “We aren’t talking about this right now. It was a suggestion from the doctor. It doesn’t mean we have to do it. We’re fine.”
    My mom lowered her head. “Yeah, I am fine. You make sure of that. What about you?”
    I gave her a smile, leaned down to kiss her cheek. “I love my momma and I will see you later.”
    I ordered her to call my cell phone if she needed me and hurried out the door. I was going to be late.
     
     
    “What’s going on out there? ” I asked. There was a suspicious huddle of men on Sergey’s back patio. They looked like they were up to something.
    Evie lifted her head from the cake she was decorating to see what I was talking about.
    With a sigh, she went back to the cake, ignoring the question. She obviously didn’t care what they were doing.
    I walked to the back door and watched the men through the mullioned windows. Sergey was there, of course. And Dragan too. Begrudgingly I had to acknowledge he looked really good. Though he always did. I’d never seen him in anything other in a suit and tie. But tonight he wore gray slacks and a pale yellow shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal toned tattooed forearms. A serious scowl marred his face. It usually did. He had a nice face though. Lean with a strong jawline, always heavily dusted in black whiskers. Straight black brows over onyx eyes and thick inky lashes. His skin akin to marble. Smooth, flawless and pale. Nothing like Sergey. Dragan was a winter’s night, dark with mystery. While his brother was like a sunny day. I swallowed hard to stop myself from imagining how his short hair would feel against my fingers. Remember the dislike, I chanted to myself. I dared one final look and caught him staring at me. His eyes were like polished obsidian. Shining bright but hard