Page 77 of Heirs of Havoc

His chin rests on my neck, the warmth of his breath like a lullaby. “Everything will be okay.”

But I really don’t know if that’s true.

* * *

It’s hard to sleep when I’m tossing and turning the entire time.

The images in my head are a nightmare, and Vlad’s brawny arms aren’t enough to keep my thoughts at bay.

Will I ever see Feliks again?

Did I ruin him too?

What about Dom? And Lev?

When I awake, Vlad’s not there to put me back to sleep. My heart sinks, looking around Feliks’ room filled with reminders of him.

You can’t rely on them.

You can’t rely on anyone.

Pushing myself off the bed, I look around Feliks’ room. I miss his melodies. His croaky voice. His comforting songs.

I miss him.

You can’t rely on them.

This is a reminder that getting with anyone in this line of business only leads to heartbreak. Damage. I need comfort. Something that’ll knock me out and sleep isn’t it. But if I know these guys, especially Feliks, a bottle of vodka isn’t too far away.

The mini fridge is empty when I get to it. Considering the glutton Feliks is, I’m not surprised. Why does that bring a smile to my face? That’s a terrible quality in a person. So is manipulation, aggression and humiliation. But that never kept me away from Dominik.

Groaning, my hands come to my matted strands. I’m so fucked up.

Pulling on Feliks’ sweater, I make my way into the hall. It doesn’t sound like the other guys are home, but they wouldn’t leave me unattended. When I get down the stairs, I get the answer I want, but it’s not what I expect.

“Vlad?” My heart stops when I see Vlad leaving a room covered in blood. He looks up at me and I see a small smile, but it disappears as quickly as it comes. Only someone as sadistic as this guy would smile with blood all over him. “What the hell?”

“It’s not mine,” Vlad says, and that makes me grip the rail. He must see the tension in my eyes because he opens his mouth to explain before the door behind him opens. Someone as bloody as he steps out, Sinatra coming from the room. He pats Vlad on the shoulder before he heads for the front door. When he leaves, Vlad shrugs. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“So you beat a man half to death?”

He lets out a chuckle. “We spar. It helps take the edge off.”

“Sparring, right.” My eyes wander his muscular frame in nothing but a pair of tight-fitting shorts. Sweat and blood coat his bulging arms and pecs.

“What’s your excuse?” He eyes me too, in nothing but Feliks’ sweater and I can feel the heat between us from here. “It’s almost four in the morning.”

“Are the guys back?” Vlad’s fist clenches as he shakes his head, and something tells me he’s as worried as I am. But I shouldn’t be. I should use this time to figure out my next move. Except it's hard when I can’t think about anything else than the guys making it out alive. “Yeah, I’m gonna need a drink.” He nods as I walk down the stairs, keeping his eyes on me. When I get in front of him, our eyes connect and I’d be lying if I didn’t think being with him would be more comforting than a bottle.

“What?” he asks, his eyes doing that thing they did earlier. They stare into my head.

“Can you teach me?”

“Teach you how to what, Merlo?” His brows furrow.

“Fight.” His lips twist and with that kiss still on my lips, I pull my eyes away or they'll tempt me again. “What? You chicken?” He snorts in response. “Next time I’ll kick your asses should you try to run me over with a fucking car.”

“In my defence, I thought you fucked over my best friend.”

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