Page 123 of Shattered Silence Duet

“And I miss you,” I tell him honestly.

He smiles at my response and brushes a finger down my cheek. “I’ve been home with you every day,” he tells me with a small smile.

“Yes, but you aren’t in here with me, you’re working. Will you tell me what your work is? What do you do all day?” I ask, feeling a little frustrated that they always skirt the subject.

“Well, I’m in security. I set up security systems and consult on the best ways to secure places, people, or things.”

I nod, at least he told me something this time. “How do you do that from home?”

“A lot of it involves research into what needs securing. Then I look into options for the best ways to do that.”

“What are you securing right now?”

He laughs a little as his eyes sweep over my face. “Right now, nothing. I can spend the day with you if you like?”

I beam at him and nod eagerly.

He settles on the bed beside me. “Well, what would you like to do?”

Deciding that truth or dare is too dangerous to play with these guys anymore, I decide to go another route.

“I’d like to get to know you better. We could take turns askingeach other questions?” I ask nervously, my fingers playing with my blanket.

He gives me a crooked grin. “Yeah? You want to know more about me, Malishka?”

I nod, and he smiles, gripping my hand. “Okay… favorite color?”

“Green… but pink is a close second now. You?”

“Blue.”

“Do you have any tattoos?” I’ve seen them peeking out from under his shirt, but I’m hoping he’ll open up and tell me about them.

“Want to see?” he asks, and I nod eagerly. He sits up and pulls his shirt off with one hand, making my mouth water at the sight of him. I forgot how huge he is.

“Wow,” I exclaim as my fingers trail over the eagle on his left chest. “It’s beautiful, does it have a story behind it?”

“Well this eagle is in honor of my time served in the American army, and the initials here,” he says pointing to a small C.M. in the eagle’s wing, “is in memory of my comrade Carlos Mendoza, who died on a mission we were on together.”

“I’m so sorry you lost him, Atlas. I didn’t even know you were in the army.”

“Yes,” he says with a nod. “From when I was eighteen to twenty-three.

“Did you enjoy it?”

“I did. I was a bit lost at the time. My parents had passed years before and my grandmother was taking care of me. But she was getting old, and I didn’t want to burden her anymore. I didn’t have any skills, so I thought joining the military was my best choice.”

My big giant Atlas was truly a softie on the inside.

“Your accent, it’s Russian, right?”

“Yes, I was born there. Moved here when I was sixteen to live with my grandmother.”

“Where is she now?” I ask carefully.

“She’s in heaven now. The daisies here,” he says, pointing to anintricate tattoo that goes up his entire right arm, “they represent her, so I’ll always remember how kind she was and how much she helped me.”

“You’re sweet,” I tell him with a smile as my fingers trace the designs.