“I never understood why my grandfather hated me so much. It wasn't until a few years later, when he kicked me out of the house because I was a 'half-breed bastard,' that I knew. I was five and had no place to go.”
“Five?” Morgan stared, stunned. “So young.”
“My grandmother tried to help. She found a shelter for me when friends refused to help, scared of my grandfather. And she helped me to understand that at least my mother had loved me. To be honest, I never expected to know my father. No one talked about him. Then one day, he was just there. He found me living on the streets. I was sixteen when he brought me home to America.”
“Shit, Kisho. How did you live? What did you do?”
Kisho frowned. “I remember the scorn, the jeers, the hatred in my grandfather's eyes whenever he'd see me on a street corner. But the day-to-day details are now just a blur. I was smart, even then. I knew who to watch out for, who to trust. And I loved books. I lost myself in the volumes of text a very kind woman loaned me. I had flashes of foresight when I hit puberty, and it helped reinforce the notion that education would be my key to escape.”
“What about your dad?”
“My father never knew he'd gotten my mother pregnant. My grandfather made her stop seeing him. The Hayashi family turned my dad away whenever he'd visit, until he stopped trying to see her and was transferred back to the States. Not until years later, when his mother told him to look, did he find me. My grandmother had visions, same as I do. I get the psychic crap from my dad's side of the family.”
Morgan ran his hand over Kisho's chest, marveling at the inner strength there. “Your abilities from your father, your name from your mother?”
“I kept Hayashi just to piss off my grandfather, so he couldn't pretend I didn't exist.” Kisho sighed. “My dad was a good man. He'd have taken me with him if he'd known about me. It always hurt him that I'd spent my childhood on the streets. Paul Leads was a Master Chief in the U.S. Navy, a fair man, but one that didn't tolerate failure or differences well.”
“Funny, coming from a guy with a psychic background.” Morgan couldn't help it. He had to kiss Kisho again, to convince himself that what they shared was not a dream, but real.
They parted from the kiss, and Kisho ran a hand over Morgan's shoulder. “Yeah, funny.” Kisho grew silent. “Morgan, I want you to know. When I told the others you were nothing to me, it wasn't true. You were never just a fuck. I love you.” Morgan's heart stuttered. He'd hoped for affection, for at least a hint of trust while they built their relationship stronger. He hadn't thought to hear those incredibly moving three words.
He didn't speak, afraid to ruin the moment.
“I've been taught, for so long, that different is wrong. First it was for being half white.
Then it was for being gay. Christ, my dad would have had a coronary if he knew his only son was a, and I quote, 'fucking pole smoker.'”
“A damned good pole smoker,” Morgan teased in a gentle voice, and Kisho chuckled.
“I could never tell him the truth. I couldn't chance that he'd kick me out, and I didn't want to lose him, too. And then I joined the navy. Don't ask, don't tell.”
“Yeah, but the guys—”
“Are my family. We fuck each other, I know. It seems stupid to be weird about being gay with them. But it's the Circ stuff that makes us do it. The other guys are straight. And I was afraid…”
“That if you came out, they'd turn you away?”
“I feel like an idiot. But yeah.”
Morgan stroked Kisho's cheeks and lips. “Baby, I won't turn you away.”
“Fallon called me an asshole for the way I treated you. Said you loved me.” There was a question there.
“What do you think?” Morgan felt tears under his fingers, and he wiped them away.
“Kitsu?”
“I think any man who would take on three Circs, who would accept a pole-smoking monster, and who read my poetry and said he liked it, I think that man might love me.”
“Don't forget the roses.”
Kisho smiled, and the sight of that joy made Morgan's entire world feel right.
Morgan tugged Kisho closer and rolled onto his back, pulling Kisho on top of him. “No might about it. I love you, baby. I love the sensitive poet, the man who listens to Mozart, the kick-ass SEAL, and the sexy-as-hell beast under your skin. I've been waiting for you since I was sixteen years old.” He kissed Kisho tenderly, sharing the love he felt inside. “Ever since Alicia gave me that figurine, I knew you belonged to me.”
Kisho froze. “Wait a minute. You said your aunt gave you that.” Morgan groaned. “You have to swear this to silence.”
“I swear.”
“She is going to shit a brick if she knows I told you.” He looked into Kisho's eyes and groaned again. “Fuck. She probably already knows. Well, Alicia, she's kind of an aunt several times removed. We may not look much alike, but she's family.” Kisho's beautiful eyes widened. “Are you kidding?”
“No. My family is really powerful when it comes to the psychic stuff. Alicia has always been on the fringe of normal anyway. But her abilities are seriously scary. She gave me that damned fox when I turned sixteen, and she told me it had a twin. Then she left.” Lost in thought, Morgan stroked Kisho's back. “I knew as soon as I held it that whoever owned that twin belonged to me. Can't explain it. I just knew.”
Kisho gave him a look.
“What?”
“My grandmother called it her little kitsu, what she used to call me. She said the jade fox belonged to my mother and had brought her great luck. That my father wasn't the curse my grandfather called him, not if he'd given my mother such a fine son.” He paused. “Hell, she might have been a bit psychic herself, because she told me to find its mate. But maybe she meant I'd find my mate.” Kisho smiled at the memory. “I've been dreaming about you for years. You saved me when I was pushed from that building.”
Morgan tightened his hold. “Yeah. Scared the shit out of me to find you like that.”
“How did you find me?”
“Had a feeling. My gift is pretty selfish, kitsu. It's all about making my life better.
Whatever I want, I usually seem to get without a lot of effort. I was a real prick for a lot of years.”
“No,” Kisho teased.
“Yeah. Came from life coming too easily. Then I had a visit from Alicia a few years after she gave me that fox. She showed me a picture of you. And I knew. I had to clean myself up, become a man you could be proud of. I became a better fighter, a mercenary with ties to places you could use.”
“Are you telling me you became a mercenary so you could one day help me?”
“Yeah, but it taught me a lot, too. Right and wrong are pretty much shades of gray.
Delancey's bad. Montaña's bad. But so is a government that tries to kill its own. If I'd known the hell you were in at Pearson Labs, I'd have come for you sooner. But Alicia never told me about that. Said it wasn't my time to find you.”
“Wait. Are you saying she knew about us Circs back then? How long has she known?”
Morgan silently cursed. “Kisho, do me a favor. Pretend I never said anything about Mrs.
Sharpe, that I'm not related to her at all, and that you know nothing.”
“But—”
“The only thing you need to know is that I love you. I'm going to spend the rest of my life with you.”
Kisho relaxed. “Really?”
“Really.” Morgan stroked his lover's face. “And as soon as this operation ends, I'm going to show you how to properly beg forgiveness after breaking your mate's heart. Letting your team leader fuck me up the ass is not how you say you're sorry.” Kisho snickered, and the sound sent waves of happiness through Morgan. “Yeah, but you weren't sorry when you came down my throat, were you?”