Page 91 of Bratva Menace

“Jesus Christ.” I laughed, shaking my head in utter disbelief. “I’m scared to ask why you tried to drown her first. I feel like we’ll be stuck in a never-ending loop.”

“We kind of are.” He chuckled. “We’ve been getting each other back for shit we did to each other for years. FYI, it’s my turn, and I’m planning something diabolical.”

“I’m sure you are. How did your parents deal with you guys if you were always trying to kill each other?”

He sat forward, all energetic and bubbly. “My father came up with this foolproof idea. I’m going to assume you saw the boxing ring in our warehouse during all those times you were sleuthing around my house?”

“I wasn’t sleuthing. I was observing.”

“You were stalking.”

“God forbid a woman has a hobby.”

He laughed, blue eyes twinkling. “When we were kids, every time we’d get the shits with each other, he’d slap a pair of boxing gloves on us, push us into the ring and tell us to just fight it out. There were rules, of course.”

“Oh, of course,” I agreed, nodding my head with an amused smile on my face. “I can’t wait to hear them.”

“We couldn’t hit the face, or, you know, delicate areas.” The pump of his eyebrows going up and down made it pretty obvious what those delicate areas were. “We had to stay in there until we’d punched and kicked out all our frustrations. Then, once we were done, everything was right as rain. As we got older, the rules changed. As long as we didn’t seriously maim each other, everything was cheerio.”

“And I thought my family was dysfunctional,” I said laughingly.

His smile was bright, and full of love and light. “We’re just one big, happy, dysfunctional family, and I honestly wouldn’t have it any other way. Wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Over the course of time I’d spent stalking him, observing him and his family, I saw a lot of things. I had to admit, I was a little envious of the family bond they shared. It was so different from how I grew up.

Yeah, they pissed each other off a lot.

Sometimes, it seemed like it was on purpose.

But they loved each other. Would die for each other.

I knew Lev loved me, but would he die for me? I highly doubted it.

Lukyan picked at some more snacks, a faraway look in his eyes. The smile was still there, but there was also a hint of sadness that absolutely broke my heart. I hated seeing him sad.

“You miss them.”

He inclined his head. “Of course I do. They drive me fucking batshit crazy half the time, but I love them. It’s always been us against the world.” He stared deeply into the fire, almost as if he was losing himself to the flames. “I want to ask you for something.”

I had a feeling I wasn’t going to like whatever it was. “Yes?”

Pleading eyes locked onto me. “Let me call my sister.”

My mouth opened, a flat-out refusal on the tip of my tongue.

“Please, Lyla.”

God-fucking-damnit. He just had to use the one word that made me completely fucking powerless against him.

Soft fingers intertwined with mine. I stiffened, looking down at our joined hands. He touched me. Lukyan touched me willingly.

Relax. Breathe. Get a fucking grip.

“Why do you need to call her?”

“I need to hear for myself that she’s okay.”

A frown creased my forehead. “I told you that she’s fine.”