Mikala's Passion (Pulse Series Book 2) (7 page)

“Girls,” Chase joked, looking suspiciously from one to the other. “What’s going on? You two don’t look happy.”

“I’m fucking ecstatic,” Mikala declared.

“Darling Mikala, can you leave the sewer mouth at the door?” Chase asked.

She gave him a roll of her eyes and a salute of her hand to her forehead and Chase graced her with a warning glower. He was not a fan of eye rolling. She remembered Eden’s stern warning and tales of spankings she had incurred on several occasions, delightfully sexual spankings she told Mikala, but spankings all the same, for eye rolling. Mikala couldn’t imagine a spanking being anything but painful, especially from such a dominant force as Chase.

Mason shook his head knowing he was the cause of miss mouthpiece reappearing. She had a tendency to show her less than ladylike side when he pissed her off or made her nervous, which lately seemed to be all the time.

“What’s up with you this wonderful day?” Chase asked.

“Absolutely nothing worth mentioning,” Mikala’s eyes darted in Mason’s direction with a sneer and Chase couldn’t hold back his laughter.

Chase signaled to the waitress who practically flew over to their table with menus. Mikala gave a titter when Chase said thank you and the waitress nearly swallowed her tongue whole. He was a beautiful man, the darker version of Mason. He was tall and built like a god with gorgeous emerald green eyes and ebony black hair and a perfectly groomed beard. Mason was tall and also built like a god, but he had mousy blond hair and preferred to be clean shaven, although today he boasted a smidgen of scruff and his eyes sparkled clear blue as he smiled. Mikala’s panties burst into flames from the first moment she saw him.

“I wanted to run over a few details regarding our partnership and get all the legal stuff out of the way, what say you, Mik?”

With a quick nod and the appearance of a contract from Chase’s briefcase, the banter of back and forth negotiations started. Mikala was as business savvy as any man or woman in the corporate world and no shit was about to get past her. Scratching out what didn’t fit her idea of perfect and replacing it with details they could both live with, they shook hands and each signed on the dotted line.

“Wait, what’s this?” Mikala pointed to a paragraph on the last page.

Chase read the print and looked over at Mason. “That would be particulars regarding the new security system we’re having installed.”

“New security system, this new security system wouldn’t be supplied by
Bulldog
would it?” She sneered at the pair as they squirmed in their seats.

“As it so happens,” Chase affirmed. “Bulldog Secure Corporation would be the one I hired, right Mason?”

With a sheepish smile, Mason found himself looking into Mikala’s fuming eyes. Raising his hands in surrender he slid from his seat. “I should give you two some space,” he said, creeping away.

“Thanks a lot for throwing me under the bus, Mase.” Chase said, flipping his hand up to Mikala, “Mik, hold your shit girl,” Chase warned, “Mason’s the best man for the job. He knows every square inch of that club and then some,” Chase grinned. “Besides, he’d kill me if I gave the job to another company.”

Her eyes glanced over at Mason standing at the end of the bar laughing with James, it was good to see him enjoying himself, she knew without a doubt the club would be in safe hands.

Chase moved in closer. “Mason would go to the ends of the earth to make sure you were safe. I wouldn’t trust anyone else.”

Mikala’s gaze crossed the room again. Mason winked when he caught her stare and she couldn’t help but smile, “Okay.”

“Good because it wasn’t up for negotiation in the first place.” Chase smiled sideways and Mikala slapped his hand as he pulled away and waved to Mason to come back to the table.

“All set my man.” Chase announced and the pair shook hands before Mason offered his hand to Mikala.

“So we’re okay, sugar?” Mason asked, dipping his head and batting his eyes.

She slapped his hand away and laughed, “Asshole,”

“That’s Mr. Asshole,” Mason joked.

Last thing on the agenda was planning out the new ‘private’ wing as Chase referred to it. There was an entire floor above the apartment that sat empty, Mikala hadn’t ever considered it usable space, but Chase set out to prove otherwise. His plan was to move Mikala’s residence up to the unused floor and create six new rooms in the existing apartment, all private and all themed.

“Themed how…?” she asked, in a skeptical tone.

At first it sounded kind of cheesy to Mikala, but once Chase clarified and she thought it out, the notion started to grow on her. She nodded happily and listed each as they came up with ideas on the backside of the contract.

1-Black Room-BDSM

2-007-the spy who loved me

3- Afternoon Delight-Multiple surfaces

4-Wet Dreams-Jacuzzi, water features

5-Victorian-fourpost bed

6-Cave Dwellers-dungeons & dragons

The sky outside was dark, it was going on seven. Eden texted Chase to let him know she was on her way home, tired and not interested in much other than a quick bite and hot sex with her hubby before much needed sleep. Chase rushed out the door.

“We better head home too,” Mason suggested.

“Yeah, I have clothes to put away before bed and really I’m tired.”

***

Ideas for each room raced around in Mikala’s head making it impossible to sleep. Each time she closed her eyes she visualized something else that fit a particular themed room. She tiptoed down the stairs and over to Mason’s desk tipping the lamp down close to the desks surface so she wouldn’t wake him. Searching the desk drawers for a pencil and paper, she slid open the bottom drawer and stared.

A tiny pair of powder blue baby booties rested on the surface of a framed photo. Lifting the booties away she drew in a deep breath as tears pooled in her eyes. There was no smile on his face, but the image of Mason gazing at the tiny baby cradled in his arms like it was gold, like it was the most precious thing in the world, broke her heart all over again, as she remembered that day. She blinked back her tears and noticed something tucked under the photo, she moved the frame to the side and read ‘Daddy’s Little Man’ written on a tiny little onesie. Quietly and with great care to put everything back where she found it, she slid the drawer closed and returned to her bed.

Mason’s eyes settled on the bed up in the hideaway, he could see in the shadows that it was occupied but Mikala’s feet remained tucked under the covers. He crooked his head to listen when he thought he heard a sniffle. He rolled onto his side because she didn’t cry, his mind must have been playing tricks. He heard another sob and a sniffle and before he knew what he was doing, his feet hit the floor and then he was standing beside her bed.

“Sugar, you okay?” he whispered.

She dried her eyes on her pillowcase when she felt the bed dip at her side and rolled over to face Mason. The light was dim, but she could see him squinting before she felt his hand brush across her cheek. “Couldn’t be better, what’s up?” The overly cheery tone in her voice fooled no one but herself.

“You crying, sugar?” Mason asked.

“Don’t be stupid,” she tittered, frozen in place when Mason reached across her and turned on the light. Puffy, red swollen eyes proved her wrong.

Mason chose not to broach the subject although it worried him, he had never seen her give into tears and as emotionally strangled as he felt he had no idea where to start. He knew she was struggling with something weighing heavy on her heart. As much as he wanted to ask, he figured she was in need of warm arms to hold her tight instead.

Her eyes dropped to his naked chest and she gasped. Her fingers reached out and caressed the beautiful tanned flesh at his heart.

“Charlie,” she croaked out, as a flood of tears ran down her temples soaking her hairline.

“Charlie,” Mason affirmed, sliding his body under the sheets and pulling her into his arms.

Mikala’s lips touched the blue ink and her fingertip traced the outline of the two tiny footprints tattooed on his chest.

Something changed between them during the night while Mason held her tight in his arms and allowed her to grieve the way he had avoided when she had needed him most, all those months ago.

He’d never seen her cry before, it tore him to pieces, he gave a silent vow to keep it their private moment and not embarrass her by talking about it.

By allowing her what she needed most he was forced to face the grief he had so carefully pushed aside, the grief he ran from, the grief he fought to ignore each day. Ignoring it kept it screened. Kept it unreal and made it easier not to feel.

Warm tears drenched his skin leaving it cool and damp under Mikala’s cheek. He felt her tuck the corner of the sheet between them and immediately hated the separation it caused. Her hand sat like a shield over the tattoo of Charlie’s tiny feet, it was like they were making a connection between them and their lost child, as if it was reuniting them as a family. A family they never had a chance of being.

Each time he closed his eyes he revisited that terrible day, the day that changed everything.

It had rained all day that day, a relentless rain accompanied by rumbles of loud thunder and crashes of lightning that lit up the loft like a flashlight beaming in each window. He had woken to an empty bed with a niggling feeling that something wasn’t right. So not like Mikala to stay in bed and snuggle, it was her favorite part of the day, that and a strawberry milkshake before bed. It was a pregnancy thing and rain or shine, Mason made sure she had that shake and was tucked in each night and left to snuggle as long as she wanted each morning. The mother of his baby boy got whatever she wanted, needed or craved, even if he had to drive for hours, he made sure she was happy, protected and safe.

When he turned on the light and was met by the sight of tiny droplets of red trailing to the bathroom door his heart sunk as he leapt from the bed and burst into the bathroom. She was sitting on the floor propped against the toilet with her hand cradling her swollen belly.

“What the fuck, sugar?” he had asked, but all she managed was a shake of her head.

He wrapped her in a blanket and rushed to the truck, settled her into the backseat and tore through the streets like a madman. Ignoring the police that watched him speed past them, sirens screaming, he didn’t stop until he had her on a gurney and they were racing down the endless halls to the maternity ward. Mason wasn’t about to be stopped and no one was much concerned by his presence as all hands rushed Mikala into delivery and a surprising calm fell over the room. A nurse hooked up the fetal monitor and everyone silenced as they listened and waited.

The doctor briefly introduced himself simply as Joe and listened carefully with his strange looking stethoscope, a look of concern crossed his face and he pressed down on Mason’s shoulder and held Mikala’s hand as he shook his head.

“When was the last time you felt the baby move?” Joe asked, as Mikala searched from face to face and back again as she tried to remember, but she couldn’t and she screamed out ‘No!’ when she realized what he was saying.

Like a living nightmare, Mason went through the motions but he wasn’t really there. He held her hand and coached her through each push until she gave birth, but until he held Charlie in his arms he hadn’t physically been in the room.

He was directed to a chair where a nurse placed Charlie’s tiny swaddled body in his arms. Mason sat staring at the bundle so perfect, so beautiful, and so flawless and was stricken with disbelief that his baby was dead. A single tear ran over his cheek and fell onto Charlie’s tiny hand, he raised it to his lips and kissed the teardrop away.

A nurse came forward and snapped a photo before taking Charlie to Mikala.

That was the moment that something died inside Mason, he blew Mikala a kiss from across the room and disappeared into the hall and kept walking. He never looked back. He attended the funeral and then boarded a plane for Afghanistan.

Eight months had passed.

He pulled her tight to his chest and gently rocked her. “Fuck I’m sorry, sugar. I’m so, so fucking sorry.” he whispered, as tears rolled down his face.

***

It certainly wasn’t the Hilton and didn’t even come close to resembling a Howard Johnson’s. It was a seedy dumpy motel on the outskirts of town that Mikala determined as being affordable, therefore making it home for now. If nothing else it was clean, there was no doubt about that by the strong smell of bleach and lemon that hung in the air. There was a bed and small dresser, a TV on a rollaway rack from the 70’s and a wobbly table with a chair under a heavily draped window. She didn’t bother to unpack, there would be time for that later, she had to get ready and get to the club before the liquor order arrived.

Hopefully Mason would still be sleeping. She could be finished at the club and back before he discovered she’d left. He’d come looking for her and she didn’t want to deal with that right now. She stood brushing out her hair in the shabby washroom and met her own miserable gaze. Her eyes were filled with disappointment in herself for not even giving it a try, but when she saw Mason’s drawer filled with memories and the tattoo permanently inked into his skin, fear overtook her thoughts and she did the only thing she could.