10. Luka
LUKA
Two weeks is enough time for a bullet wound to become manageable.
It’s not enough time for me to stop thinking about Nina Hale.
The shoulder still hurts when I move too quickly, when I forget and reach for something with the wrong hand, when I try to button a shirt without assistance and discover that pride is less useful than mobility.
Mirov says the healing is acceptable, which is doctor language for I’m surprised you didn’t make it worse.
My mother says I’m insufferable, which is mother language for the same thing.
But the pain is manageable.
The waiting is not.
By the third day, I stop pretending my irritation has anything to do with the injury.
By the sixth, I stop pretending I’m looking at my phone only for security updates.
By the ninth, I know the exact sound her messages make.
Not that she sends many.
Nina does not come back to the estate.
Not once.
She returns to work remotely after two days, because apparently being shot at in a garage is not enough to convince her to take leave when there are investor decks to correct and board minutes to finalize.
She texts me about schedules, calls once about a contract clause, sends two clipped emails about staffing changes, and forwards me, for reasons known only to God and women under twenty-five, a series of TikToks.
The first one is a dog wearing boots, walking as if personally betrayed by each foot.
I watch it.
Then I watch it again because I don’t understand why she sent it.
Then I watch it a third time because I think perhaps there’s a joke hidden in it that I have missed.
There is no joke. There’s only a dog having a crisis over footwear.
I reply with a question mark.
She sends: this is literally you when Doctor Mirov told you no driving
I stare at the message longer than necessary.
Then I watch the dog again.
The second TikTok is a woman dramatically ranking “men who said something stupid and thought they were wise”, and it’s some kind of reactive clips to a bunch of stuff happening.
The third is a recipe for cherry jam pastries with the caption: since someone has no self-awareness about liking cherry jam
The fourth is a man opening a drawer and finding a raccoon inside, screaming, then calmly closing the drawer.
I don’t ask what this one means.
I watch all of them.
Every single one.
Sometimes more than once.
Not because they are interesting.
Because they are from her.
Each time, I wait for the next message to be something else. Something direct. Something careless enough to reveal what she is thinking when she is alone, away from Misha’s worry and my mother’s warmth and the estate full of men who saw too much that night.
I wait for her to mention the bedroom.
The soup. Her hand on my chest. The almost-kiss.
The boardroom. She doesn’t.
She sends a TikTok of a cat pushing a glass off a table with the caption: me with your schedule if you don’t stop adding calls after 8 pm
I reply: You are not funny.
She replies: you watched it tho
I don’t answer.
Because she’s right.
And because if I answer too quickly, it’ll show.
I let the phone sit face down on the table for almost a full minute.
It vibrates again.
Nina: You’re ignoring me because I’m right.
I look at the message and lean back against the couch.
She is right.
That is the problem.
Luka: I am ignoring you because I am working.
Nina: You’re at home.
Luka: I can work at home.
Nina: You can also stop adding calls after 8 pm at home.
Luka: Careful.
Nina: That sounds threatening.
Luka: It was.
Nina: Very professional.
I should stop.
I have actual work open on the laptop in front of me. Three contracts, two security reports, and a list of calls I added after eight because apparently, I enjoy making my own life worse.
Instead, I keep the phone in my hand.
Luka: You enjoy provoking me when I am not there to do anything about it.
The reply comes almost immediately.
Nina: Maybe that’s why I’m doing it.
I stare at the message.
Then I type.
Luka: Where are you?
Nina: Home.
Luka: Alone?
Nina: That sounds like a security question.
Luka: It is.
Nina: Yes, I’m alone.
I do not like that answer.
I like it very much.
Both things are true.
Luka: Lock your door.
Nina: Already locked.
Luka: Chain too.
Nina: Yes, boss.
Luka: Nina.
Nina: Fine. Yes, Luka.
I exhale slowly.
Nina: You’re very tense tonight.
Luka: You sent me a cat threatening my schedule.
Nina: That was administrative feedback.
Luka: That was insubordination.
Nina: Are you going to punish me?
I read it once.
Then again.
My hand tightens around the phone.
The laptop becomes immediately irrelevant.
Luka: Is that what you want?
There is no reply for several seconds.
Then:
Nina: I asked first.
Luka: Yes.
Nina: Yes what?
Luka: Yes, I would punish you.
A longer pause.
Nina: How?
I sit forward.
The house is quiet around me. My mother is in her room. Security is outside. No one is near enough to hear anything, but I still lower my voice when I use dictation, then change my mind and type instead.
Luka: I would make you repeat what you said about my schedule while I had my hand between your legs.
The typing dots appear.
Disappear.
Appear again.
Nina: That seems unrelated to scheduling.
Luka: It would improve your attitude.
Nina: My attitude is excellent.
Luka: Your attitude is why my cock is hard.
This time she does not answer quickly.
Nina: You can’t just text me that.
Luka: I just did.
Nina: I’m trying to make dinner.
Luka: Stop making dinner.
Nina: Why?
Luka: Because I want your full attention.
Nina: You’re very demanding for a man who is not here.
Luka: If I were there, you would not be making dinner.
Nina: What would I be doing?
Luka: Me.
Her reply takes almost thirty seconds.
Nina: That was crude.
Luka: It was clear.
Nina: You’re impossible.
Luka: You started this.
Nina: With a cat.
Luka: Now we are past the cat.
Nina: Clearly.
I stand and walk to the window, phone in hand, because sitting still is not helping. The city lights are spread out beyond the glass. I barely see them.
Luka: Tell me what you are wearing.
Nina: Absolutely not.
Luka: Nina.
Nina: Sweatpants and an old T-shirt.
Luka: Bra?
A pause.
Nina: No.
I close my eyes for a second.
Luka: Underwear?
Nina: Yes.
Luka: Color?
Nina: This is a very inappropriate workplace conversation.
Luka: We are not at work.
Nina: You are still my boss.
Luka: Then answer your boss.
The reply comes faster this time.
Nina: Black.
I smile despite myself.
Luka: Touch yourself over them.
Nina: Luka.
Luka: Do it.
Nina: I’m in the kitchen.
Luka: Then go to your bedroom.
No answer.
I wait.
One minute.
Two.
Then the phone vibrates.
Nina: I’m in my bedroom.
My body goes tight.
Luka: Door locked?
Nina: Yes.
Luka: Good. Lie down.
Nina: You’re very bossy.
Luka: You like that.
Nina: Sometimes.
Luka: Now.
Another pause.
Nina: Fine.
I picture it too clearly: Nina on her bed, hair loose, face flushed because she is annoyed at herself for listening to me.
Luka: Put your hand between your legs.
Nina: Over the underwear?
Luka: For now.
Nina: For now?
Luka: Do you need me to explain every step?
Nina: Maybe.
My jaw tightens.
Luka: Rub yourself slowly and think about my mouth.
The dots appear immediately, then vanish.
For a while, nothing.
Then:
Nina: That is unfair.
Luka: Are you doing it?
Nina: Yes.
My cock jerks hard against my trousers.
I open my belt with one hand.
Luka: Good girl.
Her reply is almost instant.
Nina: Don’t.
Luka: Don’t what?
Nina: Say that.
Luka: Why?
Nina: Because it works.
I breathe out through my nose.
Luka: Then I will say it again.
Nina: Luka.
Luka: Good girl.
This time she sends nothing for almost a minute.
When she does, the message is shorter.
Nina: I hate you.
Luka: No, you don’t.
Nina: I might.
Luka: You are wet.
No reply.
I wait, thumb resting on the screen.
Luka: Answer me.
Nina: Yes.
The single word hits harder than it should.
Luka: Take them off.
Nina: You first.
I look down at my open trousers and smile.
Luka: Already ahead of you.
Nina: Oh.
Luka: Take them off, Nina.
Nina: Done.
I stroke myself once, slow, then grip the phone harder.
Luka: Fingers.
Nina: This is not fair if you’re not here.
Luka: I know.
Nina: I want your hand.
Luka: Use yours and pretend it is mine.
Nina: Your hands are bigger.
Luka: I know.
Nina: Arrogant.
Luka: Wet.
Nina: Extremely.
I stop walking.
For a second, there is only that word and the sound of my own breathing.
Luka: Put two fingers inside.
There is no immediate reply.
Then:
Nina: Okay.
Luka: Move slowly.
Nina: I don’t want slowly.
Luka: I did not ask what you wanted.
Nina: Bossy.
Luka: Wet.
Nina: You’re very proud of yourself.
Luka: I would be more proud if I were there.
Nina: What would you do?
Luka: I would put you on your back, spread your thighs, and taste you until you stopped pretending you could be quiet.
The next message comes broken.
Nina: Fuck.
I grip my cock harder.
Luka: Still touching yourself?
Nina: Yes.
Luka: Faster now.
Nina: Luka.
Luka: Faster.
Nina: I’m close.
My whole body tightens.
Luka: Wait.
Nina: No.
Luka: Wait.
Nina: You are horrible.
Luka: I know.
There is a long pause.
Too long.
Then:
Nina: I can’t.
Luka: Yes, you can.
Nina: Luka, please.
That does it.
I sit on the edge of the couch, hand tight around my cock, breathing hard through my nose.
Luka: Come.
The message barely sends before hers arrives.
Nina: Oh my god
Then nothing.
For several seconds, nothing.
I close my eyes and finish with her name in my mouth, low enough that no one outside the room can hear.
When I can breathe properly again, I pick up the phone.
Luka: Nina?
A few seconds later:
Nina: I dropped the phone.
I laugh once, rough and quiet.
Luka: Are you okay?
Nina: I am never sending you cat videos again.
Luka: Liar.
Nina: Maybe.
Luka: Eat dinner.
Nina: You’re telling me to eat dinner after that?
Luka: Yes.
Nina: Romantic.
Luka: Practical.
Nina: You’re coming over tomorrow.
Luka: Yes.
Nina: Not for work.
Luka: No.
There is a pause.
Then:
Nina: And no calls after 8 pm.
I look at my laptop, then at the phone.
Luka: Fine.
Nina: Wow. The cat worked.