Page 122 of Bratva Menace

My brain went into overdrive, trying to come up with solutions—any solutions that would repair the giant clusterfuck I found myself in. I stayed in the shower for I didn’t even know how long, running through different scenarios in my head. Every one ended with her losing her absolute shit at me.

A wave of sadness rolled through me. I didn’t want her to be mad at me. The thought almost made me whimper in despair.

I have to fix this somehow. I have to. I have to⁠—

“Lukyan?”

I pulled myself out of the spiral my thoughts were taking me down, and stuck my head out of the stream of water. “Yeah?” I grunted, wiping a hand down my face.

“You’ve been in there for a while. You okay?”

It was my father. He stood on the other side of the bathroom door. I could see his shadow through the small crack, and I held in my groan. I just wanted to be alone.

“I’m fine.”

“I’ve got some food out here for you.”

Food actually sounded really fucking good. “Any weed?”

His soft laughter echoed through the air. “I can have some brought up.”

“That would be great.” I didn’t smoke a lot. Mainly when I was trying to quiet the voices in my head. They said lots of different things, ranging from homicidal thoughts to degrading ones. When I thought about it, I hadn’t had a single disparaging thought since I had been with Lyla. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

Turning the shower off, I opened the glass door and stepped out. My feet landed on the tiles, but they weren’t cold. Thank God for underfloor heating. After quickly drying myself off, I wrapped the towel around my waist and walked out of the bathroom.

My father was on the three-seater couch in the center of the room, plates of food sitting on the coffee table in front of him. The smell of something delicious and hearty hit my nose. Whatever it was, it was exactly what I needed.

He smiled warmly at me.

“Stop looking at me like that. It freaks me out.” I sat down on the single chair beside the couch and lifted the cloche over the food. Meat and vegetables. Was there anything better?

He frowned. “Like what?”

“All nice and shit. It’s weird.”

He huffed and leaned back, crossing his ankle over his knee. “I can’t be nice?”

“You?” I scoffed, spearing a cube of meat before putting it into my mouth. “No.”

“Rude, but after everything you’ve been through, I’ll allow it.” Father watched me as I ate, studying me with that freaky eeriness he possessed. “So? Tell me about her.”

My spine stiffened. “What?”

He gave me a who you tryin’ to fool kinda look. “What’s her name? You did learn her name after all that time, right?”

“How long was I gone?”

“Ten days.”

“Felt like longer.” Way, way longer. I guessed that was normal. During those ten days, we’d spent every single day together. Connecting. Laughing. Kissing. Touching⁠—

“So?” my father questioned again. “What’s her name?”

I looked down at my hands. “Lyla,” I whispered. I couldn’t hide the emotion in my voice even if I tried.

“Hm.” His finger tapped idly on the armrest. He cocked his head, studying me diligently.

I avoided his gaze and kept eating. “What’s been happening here?” I asked—an oh-so-obvious attempt to change the subject.