Hearts of Deceit (ManxMan)

Ch 8: Together?

"They say Dominic Seraz is going up against some ventures belonging to the Edwards family. Something in Hell's Kitchen or Chelsea, or whatever," Declan said, leaning over the counter. We were a table away but that didn't stop Misha from turning his head to look over at the gamma with an interested quirk of the brow. 

"Really?" Misha murmured. "I thought the Edwards were still on the west coast."

Declan shrugged as he poured a drink for a tired looking gamma. "Of course they were gonna move Thorephite Inc to New York some day. They already have a plant 50 miles north of Manhattan. I think it's actually their son, Ross, whose opening up a branch near Times Square."

I groaned. Of course, the only time I decide to take Misha out on a date, fully paid for by myself, they had to start talking about that bastard, Ross Edwards. The asshole who ran me out of a job. And the other bastard, Dominic Seraz, who'd dumped by best friend to re-kindle an extortion ring. 

Alpha bastards. I was starting to see a trend here. 

The frustrating part was that Misha always seemed interested in any topic surrounding Ross Edwards. When I would ask him about it, he'd simply shrug and say that he liked keeping up with the events of the business world. I called bullshit on that but it made little difference. 

It was partially my fault for thinking I could avoid the topic and take him out on a nice date at Tulach's pub. The same place Declan owned and worked and the same place where stories of Seraz and Edwards was the common gossip. Especially from Declan.

"Do you think he's going to send some of his enforcers..." Misha began but I quickly tuned them out. With a huff I laid my head against the window we were sitting by and took a sweep outside into the rest of the area.

Tulach Hills was a simple neighborhood for the most part. A few small businesses like the salon across the street took up the western half and went right up to where the apartments separated them from the smaller houses on the east side. Today was a chilly, early March evening that promised a light dusting of snow in the morning. 

Five months. Misha and I had been together for five months. It wasn't ridiculously long but it felt good. It dulled the ache, even healed a few bruises in my heart. Sometimes, a creeping dread would climb its way up on really good days and remind me that everything wasn't as it seemed. I had learned that once. But then Misha would put a hand on my shoulder, give my lips a chaste kiss, and tell me "do not worry Solnishko. I am here for you always". And the demons would go away. 

It was why I had begged Misha to let me take him out on a date. I made way less money as a bartender than he did as an accountant at some fancy law firm but I didn't care. After weeks of begging and promising him that I'd go somewhere affordable, Misha had agreed. So here we were, at Tulach's pub, once again. 

To my derision, Misha had only ordered a small drink and a cheap burger. And he was still talking to Declan. 

"Do you know what was in the letter James got in December?" 

"He's opened it but won't tell me anything. A body part probably. Seraz is a bastard," Declan replied. Misha nodded at his sagely words. I sighed.

"You two gonna nut together over Seraz or what?" 

"Conrad," Misha groaned. Declan chuckled as he pulled away to attend to a beta at the far end of the counter.

"Am I wrong?" I bit out. "This was supposed to be the night I took you out on a date. And all you can talk about is Seraz and Ross Edwards. Hell, it's like you know Edwards personally or some shit."

"Language," Misha sighed. But it wasn't with the same conviction. There was some far-off look in his eye, some hint that Misha wasn't quite here mentally. It was frustrating as hell. It was the same look every time. Every time someone mentioned Ross Edwards. I grit my teeth and had half the mind to stand up and leave him if it weren't for the fact that I was supposed to be paying. It was probably what Misha wanted. He didn't understand the humiliation that would wash over me when I thought about how my meager salary couldn't even buy him a simple dinner.  

You've been using up all my money! The apartment! The clothes! The dinners! Jesus, Conrad, I'm like a walking credit card to you!

I closed my eyes. It still hurt. It was a freshly cut bruise every-time those words came back to me. I'd promised myself it wouldn't be like that with Misha. I'd told James it wouldn't be like that ever again. I wouldn't rely on anyone else's money. 

"Conrad, Conrad? Conrad, listen to me!" I jumped, my eyes snapping open to a look of concern from Misha.

"Conrad, I'm sorry...I have a tendency to...get lost in the past."

I scoffed. "Really?  With Ross Edwards? What, was he like a bad ex or some shit? Look," I gesture to the bar. "I just wanted to do something for you, ok? I get it. I can't take you to some fancy restaurant like some billionaire alpha-"

"Conrad-"

"Hell, it must be embarrassing being out with a delta-"

"Conrad!"

My mouth snapped shut. I shot him a glare with hands clenched firmly on the table. I swore I wouldn't react; not to anything he'd say,  not to anything he'd do; but my resolve wavered a little when a pale, smooth hand engulfed my calloused ones. Pine green eyes looked over my face. God damn, every time with the god damn eyes. 

"Conrad." What the hell? Why did his voice have to come out so soft and smooth? I could hear just a touch of the Russian accent he couldn't quite shake off. "Conrad, I'm sorry. It's not because you're a delta. Never. Remember our promise? In Central Park?"

I nodded, a little numb and trying to not think too much about the way he held my hands and looked at me then with the slight tilt of his head. Misha sighed. It was quick and nervous.

What really made me jump was when Misha looked away. 

"I appreciate this. The truth is, I'm nervous. I guess talking about Seraz and Edwards was a sort of distraction."

I tilted my head, trying to catch his eye. "Nervous about what exactly?" I said slowly, licking my chapped lips in anxious anticipation.

"I was wondering if we could talk about being together. I mean, together, together. Moving in together." Misha had a hard time forcing the words out, but when he finished, they rang loud and clear in my ears. 

Together?  

-8-

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