Chapter 4 #2
I bit my tongue to keep from laughing. “I doubt it. The man has said a total of three words to me in my whole life. ‘Cut your hair’. It’s the first and only thing he says to me when he sees me.
He’s very stuck in his outdated gender roles, and firmly believes that men shouldn’t have long hair.
” I flicked my dark, thick, long locks over my shoulder and gave her a dazzling smile.
“It’s why I keep it long. To piss him off.
And…because…well…the chicks love it.” I winked.
Father kicked my shin underneath the table, and I winced.
Of course, he knew there was absolutely no chance of anything happening between Autumn and me, but he didn’t like it when anyone flirted with her.
Fuck, he didn’t like it when another man so much as looked at her.
Even the soldiers around the house would avert their gazes whenever she walked past so as not to gain my father’s angry attention. He was as territorial as a wild animal.
Sometimes, I just did it to piss him off because it was funny watching his right eye twitch like that. A year before, I never would have dreamed of pissing him off intentionally. Otherwise, I would have found myself in the ring with him, and that was a place one did not want to be.
But Autumn had softened him. Opened up his heart again. And in doing so, she had made him see the fun side of life again.
Autumn dunked a fry into some gravy and put it into her mouth, slurping it off her fingers.
“There’s a knife and fork right beside you,” my father gritted out behind clenched teeth.
Although he seemed annoyed by Autumn’s eating habits, I didn’t think he was as irritated as he was trying to pretend to be—he was still twirling that loose strand of hair around his fingers, even as he glared at the back of her head.
I hid my smirk behind my hand. Oh, this is just too good.
“Is there? Huh.” She continued to dump the fries into the gravy as if my father hadn’t spoken at all.
I could hear his jaw grinding from across the table.
“Your grandfather will be suspicious of me,” he continued, throwing her one more scowl she couldn’t see before focusing entirely on me.
There was a stiffness in his shoulders that I suspected was because of what we were discussing, and not Autumn’s abhorrent, albeit hilarious, eating habits.
“He will most likely have me followed very closely, so I can have no part in this. You must do it on your own. But I will watch and have your back.”
“I know.” A thought plagued my mind, and my father, being the annoyingly observant man he was, saw it instantly.
His brows creased together slightly before he stopped playing with Autumn’s hair and moved closer, placing his elbows on the table. “What’s troubling you?” Father asked, voice soft. He leaned forward, his entire focus on me, and I couldn’t lie…It was unsettling as fuck.
It wasn’t like my father ignored me, but up until recently, he hadn’t really taken me seriously either. The same went for my siblings, except their views on me hadn’t changed like my father’s had.
It was that fight that did it.
Although, “fight” wouldn’t really be the correct word for it, I supposed.
I’d made a joke. A stupid, inappropriate joke like I always did. But that time, it had come back and bitten me right in the ass.
We could all see how much Father cared for Autumn, but he hadn’t been ready to see or admit it himself. So, when I’d called Autumn his girlfriend, he snapped. Threw me up against the wall by my throat and almost made me pass out.
That wasn’t what hurt the most, though. Physical injuries were second nature to me, and occurred almost daily, thanks to rigorous training and normal Bratva shit.
It had been his words.
“Why do you have to say every stupid thing that pops into your head?”
“Why couldn’t you for once—just for once—keep your mouth shut?”
His words had cut deeper than any blade. Hurt more than any gunshot wound I’d endured before.
My humor wasn’t a mask. An act I put on. It was just…me. I liked to make people laugh. Everyone in my life was so fucking serious all the time. Not that I blamed them. We teetered on the edge of life and death every goddamn day. That required being serious sometimes.
But if your life was filled with nothing but serious moments, you weren’t really enjoying your life, were you?
So, yeah, I fucked around a lot. Cracked jokes at inappropriate times to make people smile and forget their own shit for a moment. If I didn’t do it, who the fuck else was going to?
It’d been a mistake, though. My words had triggered an avalanche of guilt inside my father, and he’d crumbled under the pressure of it. He’d hurt me. Hurt Autumn. Not physically, but mentally. Emotionally. And in some ways, that could be just as damaging.
Although Father had apologized, sincerely and numerous times, his words had stuck with me, weighing me down like an anchor in the ocean, no matter how many times he’d told me he was sorry.
Knock, knock.
From my bed, I rolled my head lazily to look at the door. Darkness surrounded me. I didn’t feel like talking. I didn’t feel like moving. I just wanted everyone to leave me alone and let me sleep.
That feeling…that aching sadness in my soul…I had never experienced anything like it before. I knew what the cause was. My father’s words rang through my head on repeat every minute, every second, making it impossible to focus on anything else. There was no stopping it.
My heart hurt, and I couldn’t stop tears from building behind my eyes.
I knew my humor was a lot to handle. That I was a lot to handle.
But never in my wildest dreams did I ever think my father would snap like that.
Would hate me so much that he would pin me to the wall and almost make me pass out from choking me.
I wondered why I was like that.
Why I couldn’t just be normal. Why I couldn’t be more like Aleksandr, strong and dependable. Or like Nikolai, smart and cunning. They would never fuck up like me. They would never let the family down.
And yet, that was all I seemed to do.
All I could do.
I hated it.
I hated…myself.
Knock, knock.
I couldn’t find the strength to get up. Maybe, if I just said nothing, if I didn’t answer the door, they would just go away.
A sliver of light cut through the room when the door opened slowly. I recognized the shape instantly. It was my father.
“Lukyan?” he asked tentatively.
He was the last person I wanted to see.
I made myself get up. It felt like my body weighed a thousand pounds. Like my limbs were stuck in jello. Like gravity was trying its damndest to keep me down.
“Father.” My voice didn’t sound like my own. I didn’t feel like myself. I felt…empty.
He went to turn the light on.
“Please, don’t.” I didn’t want him to see the tears. Didn’t want him to think I was weak. Plus, I couldn’t explain it, but I needed the darkness. The darkness felt like my only friend.
He nodded and stepped further into the room. “Lukyan, I—” His words cut off with a choke. I wasn’t sure why. I wasn’t looking at him. My eyes remained plastered to the floor. Fear almost consumed me. Not fear for my life. Fear that the same look of disgust would still be on his face.
His arms encircled me instantly. “I’m so sorry.”
I blinked. My head remained lowered, that feeling of worthlessness still coursing through my bones. I was floored that he’d just apologized. I couldn’t work out why that didn’t make me feel better. It should have, shouldn’t it?
He squeezed me tighter. “I’m so, so sorry, moy syn, my son. I was wrong. I was way out of line. I should have never said those things to you. Never should have laid my hands on you like that. I’m so sorry.”
It sounded like he was crying. But that couldn’t be right. Father never cried. And I doubted the first time would be over me.
“Please,” he begged. “Talk to me. Say something.”
“It’s okay.” It wasn’t. But he said to say something, so I did. The pain was still there, cutting deeper and deeper into my soul. Emptiness filled me.
“No, it’s not. What I did and what I said was definitely not okay.” He moved back and gripped me by the shoulders. “Look at me.”
I did. Following his orders was second nature to me, ingrained into my bones. Even when my brain felt as foggy as it did, my body knew to follow his orders.
Father’s eyes were glassy, his face filled with sadness. “Moy syn.” My son, he said in anguish. “What have I done to you?”
“I’m fine,” I responded, my voice monotone.
He shook his head. “No. You’re not. I didn’t mean it, Lukyan. I didn’t mean any of it. I was completely out of line. Please. Forgive me.”
“I forgive you.”
I did. Everything he’d said was true. I couldn’t be angry at him for telling the truth, could I?
He made a sound in the back of his throat that was full of pain and misery. He apologized again and again. Over and over and over. He told me he loved my light. Loved my spirit. Loved how I was unashamed to be myself.
It went in one ear and out the other.
I feared I would never come out of it. That the darkness would surround me forever. Then, my father did something he’d never done before. He’d trusted me to do something important. Something detrimental to our survival. And it had sparked me back to life.
“Lukyan,” Father prompted. My eyes snapped to him. “What is troubling you?” he asked again, a little sterner.
I hadn’t even realized that I’d allowed myself to get swallowed up by my thoughts.
I cleared my throat and straightened my spine.
“You don’t think it’s a little weird? I mean, Grandfather had people trying to kill you every single week.
Sometimes twice a week. And now…nothing.
It’s been over a month since the last attempt. That’s strange, isn’t it?”