Page 105 of Bratva Butcher

A small chuckle fell from my lips. If I were to have one friend, it would probably be Vanessa. Technically, she was a work colleague. We were both trained by Elias ,and every now and then, we teamed up on particularly difficult contracts. She just so happened to have a target there as well.

I’d vented to her about Dimitri and the island when I first returned, so she knew everything.

Well, almost everything. Some things I thought were best to keep to myself.

In my peripheral vision, I could see Dimitri staring at me, his eyes narrowed on my phone like it was his worst enemy or some shit. He hadn’t touched his food. I wasn’t sure if that was because of me or because he didn’t like snails, either.

More plates of food arrived, but I didn’t touch any of it. I wasn’t hungry anyway, my mind far too focused on the brooding, hulking male sitting across from me. Everyone else around the table continued to eat and engage in quiet, mediocre chit chat while I just kept my eyes on my phone, checking random social media platforms and texting Vanessa back.

Me: He’s the Antichrist.

Vanessa: He kicked some dude out of his seat so he could sit at the same table as you. He soooooo likes you. *kissing face emoji*

I laughed, shaking my head.

“You know, it’s considered rude to use your phone at the dinner table.”

My gaze rose and clashed with Dimitri’s.

Seriously, what was this guy’s fucking problem? One second, he was insulting me, then he was defending me, then he was putting me on blast in front of everyone.

Make up your fucking mind, Butcher.

“So, what you’re saying is, it’s okay to be rude as long asyou’rethe one doing it?” I locked my phone and placed it face down on the table. “I’m curious, Mr Volkov, are you this hypocritical in your normal day-to-day life, or do you reserve it just for special events like this? Or perhaps for people who intimidate you?”

He smiled broadly. He didn’t answer, instead turning his attention to Johnathon. “Dr Warren, you said you were a psychologist, correct?”

“Uh, yes?” Jonathan answered in between bites.

“So, you study the mind then. Tell me, if someone were to have a dream about someone else, what can that mean?”

What? Where is he going with this?

Johnathan frowned, confused by his question. “A dream?”

“Yes.” His eyes cut to me. “A dream of a sexual nature.”

Oh, that fucking asshole.

I glared daggers at him from across the table. My fingers walked across the surface and gripped the knife sitting next to my giant plate of uneaten slugs.

“Well, uh, it could mean a myriad of things. The most likely scenario is that it means nothing at all. Or, it could mean they have some sort of desire to get closer to the person they’re dreaming about. Dreams can often relate back to what is happening in our waking lives. Some believe that dreams are even our subconscious mind trying to tell us something. Something we may be refusing to acknowledge.”

That sounded an awful lot like denial to me. Dimitri was the fucking king of that, and he was trying to insinuateIwas the one in denial?

Fuck right off.

“Interesting,” Dimitri sang, one finger tapping idly against his chin, smugness practically wafting off him.

I wanted to jump across the table and jab him in the throat, but this battle needed to be fought with a different, more subtle tactic.

“That kind of sounds like denial, wouldn’t you say, Johnathon?” I asked casually, my eyes still on Dimitri, and his on me.

“I suppose,” Johnathon replied, completely ignorant of what was going on. “There’s quite a few different forms of denial.”

“Would you say someone playing hot and cold with you—say, they’re smiling, laughing, even going so far as toflirtwith you, and then they do a complete 180 and start snapping at you and insulting you—couldthatbe considered as a form of denial?”

“That is…oddly specific,” he frowned, his confusion growing by the second. “But yes, it’s a possibility. It could be that this person has repressed feelings they’re refusing to deal with. Or possibly even refusing to acknowledge. And instead of dealing with these feelings, they lash out with anger at the person responsible for causing them.”

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