Page 10 of Innocent Bratva Virgin

That reality seemed exhausting, and I truly wanted to help Vlad find a life where he wasn’t so fortified.

Being strong all the time is tiring. Being someone you’re not on top of that? Worse.

The next alarm bell chirped on my computer, and I knew that the allotted time I’d given myself to take notes was over. I needed to prepare for the next patient that was going to come in.

I was seeing two more people today, and they’d both be solo sessions. At least I knew that I wouldn’t have slept with either of them.

Chapter 6 - Vlad

The trip back home seemed to take longer than it usually did. There was no traffic or anything that might have slowed me down. There were no missed exits or me spacing off and not keeping the speed clocked to eleven. It justfeltlonger.

It may have had something to do with my not looking forward to getting home. It could have had to do with how I was still thinking about the woman who I’d left in that office—her eyes, the soft curve of her mouth, the way she knew just what to ask to get me thinking about things I’d rather fucking not think about.

She’s a damn good counselor, I’ll give her that.

Eventually, I pulled up to my long driveway and navigated the turns through the trees until I reached the property. There wasn’t a garage, so I parked off to the side near Ivan’s car.Oh, goody. They’re home.

As soon as I got inside, the door smoothing shut behind me, and the auto-lock securing it immediately, I heard heavy footsteps hurrying toward the door. It only took a second to identify the pattern and that of the next set of steps that followed.

“There he is. How’d it go?” Ivan smiled easily enough as he walked up to me at the door.

I just eyed him, raising my brows and then immediately letting them fall into a scowl. Abe was right behind him, and he got the same treatment.

“Oh, come on. Nothing good came of it?”

I wasn’t dignifying that with a response, text or otherwise. There was a damn good reason I didn’t think about why I didn’tspeak. If everyone kept fucking bringing it up, I was going to do a lot more than just resign myself to being mute.

Ivan frowned, trying to snag my arm as I pushed past him. “Come on, Vlad. I just wanted to help.”

With that, I turned around and faced him, jabbing a finger in his chest. As I met his eyes, I shook my head once. It was all that he was going to get and all that he should need to keep his fucking mouth shut on the subject.

“Vlad.”

I didn’t listen, not stopping for a second as I turned away and headed to the second floor so that I could hold up in my room undisturbed. Adley came down with the baby from the third floor as I hurried up the stairs. I just eyed her as I walked past the pool table.

“Hey, Vlad. Are you okay?”

She was the only person in this house that I was going to give so much as a pause to, and I just looked at her with a head shake. Adley frowned, and Grace started fussing in her arms as if sensing things. That was my cue to leave. I wanted nothing to do with babies, and I could already hear my brothers running up the stairs to try and talk to me some more.

I shook my head again as I rushed down the hall to my room. I was there before Ivan or Abe caught up with me, and right as I was pushing into the bedroom, I heard them both call out down the hall.

“Come on, you dick. Ivan hasn’t shut up about this fucking session, and I need him to shut his yap.”

Leave it to Abe to try being an asshole as a means of communication.

“Goddamn it, Abe,” Ivan grumbled to himself, and then I could hear him easing his tone as he realized the baby was there. “Hey, sweetie. Vlad, please come down for dinner at least.”

But I didn’t stop; I just shoved myself inside my room and locked the door behind me.

Inside, I shuffled over to my bed, the low platform barely off the floor, and I let myself fall face-first into the mattress. I screamed into the covers without making a sound. I couldn’t even bring myself to take ot the frustration with no one around to hear.

Because that was the rub.

Sure, I didn’t speak to anyone, but I never talked to myself either. I wasn’t even sure if there was a voice left inside my throat. If I did use it, I would undoubtedly sound gravely and beyond rough.

That was enough self-examination, though. I’d had plenty of that at the therapy office. I rolled over, staring at the ceiling as I lay in my unmade bed.

The room wasn’t particularly decorated. The “décor” consisted of my bed, the small nightstand next to it, and the shelf of books stuffed in the corner on the other wall that wasn’t glass. Books were how I filled most of my time. They were a quiet activity, and the characters in the stories could be ignored when they were pissing me off.

---