Page 18 of Luka

“Why is it sohardfor you to be a good brother?” Mila sneers.

I open my eyes to glare back at her, but before I can speak, she shakes her head at me in disgust and leaves after Leo. If the screeching tires outside are any indication, I’d say she’s too late.

The print Mila left on my cheek feels hot, and as badly as I want to rub the sting away, I don’t dare in front of my mother. She stands before walking to me in six-inch heels no woman her age should own.

When she stops in front of me, I meet her eyes, mimicking her hard expression.

“Do you really believe there’s another man?” she asks.

I shrug.

A sigh brushes past her lips, and she pauses for a few moments. “Take care of him.Don’ttell your brother when you’refinished. He’s too weak. Adulterous or not, he believes he needs the woman.”

“He’d manage without her.”

She lifts a shoulder. “In time, he can decide that for himself.”

“I don’t understand why you coddle him,” I say, annoyed at the slight whine in my tone. “Fyodor would have never accepted … this.” I gesture at all the broken pieces of ceramic and glass.

“You can’t even bring yourself to call him Papa, and yet, you expect me to believe you care about his approval?”

She has a point. I suppose I don’t care what my late father would think of the way my family handles things. Seeking his approval was always a futile endeavor, and I don’t suppose that’s changed now that he’s busy critiquing Satan’s interior designer.

“Go, Luka. I expect an update soon.”

Blinking, I refocus on her. Her blonde hair is pulled back in a bun, not a strand out of place. It offers no concealment for any part of her face, like she wants you to be able to study it, searching for signs of warmth, knowing you’ll come up empty.

Or maybe it’s just me.

Without a word, I turn and leave, wishing I could speak what’s on my mind.

Don’t hold your breath.

6

LUCIA

He isn’t gone long.

My aching neck is craned toward the rope on my right wrist, my arms uselessly yanking, when the door to Tall’s apartment slides open.

It’s loud and sounds like heavy metal, a door more fit for a factory than for an apartment. When it bangs shut, I flinch at the sound and whimper as I jerk more forcefully at the rope.

I can’t see him because his bed is in a space near the ceiling, almost like a room, but there isn’t a wall separating us, so I can hear everything he does. Metal sliding to engage locks. Keys rattling as he drops them. His boots thumping on the floor by the door.

When his footsteps start toward the ladder leading to his bed, I halt my movements, my shoulders stiffening. But he doesn’t go to the ladder. I strain to listen as he walks beneath me, and think I hear glass bottles rattle as a refrigerator opens.

Minutes go by while I listen to Tall busy himself in what must be his kitchen, and the more I listen, the drier my mouth feels despite the gag feeling wet. I can feel my thirst in every part of my throat, my throbbing head, my lips, and my belly. Hunger is there as well, but it’s unmatched.

I close my eyes and clench my fists, hating myself for what I’m about to do.

Luka, I try to yell through the cloth, but it’s muffled nonsense.Luka, please. I pause and listen, as if he’ll respond with a ‘coming darling.’As if he really forgot I was up here. As if he cares about my needs.

Heat bursts to my face thinking about myneeds, and what Tall did to me earlier.

I thought his friend had been cruel. I thought he’d humiliated me.

But what Tall did…

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