Page 78 of Ruling Scar
“Check your phone, asshole.”
I decide I’m changing everyone’s access as I pour myself a cup of coffee.
Dad likes the chair in my living room. It’s where he normally sits when he comes over to rile me up. Today, he stands and crosses toward the kitchen, holding his cup out for a refill. I oblige, because he’s my dad, and also quite frankly Lev Zimin is a fright without his caffeine.
“Does Lennie normally head out to work so early?”
I press a thumb against my eyebrow, warding off a headache as my jaw clenches. “How long have you been here?”
“An hour.” He gulps the scalding hot coffee. “You have a good night’s sleep? I didn’t want to wake you.”
I chug my coffee.
“What are you doing, son?”
I pride myself on understanding the people around me. Not because I’m empathetic but because being observant gets you far. I’m loath to admit, though, that I struggle to understand my father’s voice.
What’s it like being raised by a man who puts bullets into his enemies without a second thought?
Strangely, normal.
Our dad grounded us if we were rude to the staff and threatened to take our toys away if we left a mess. He tried to make one-on-one time for each of his sons. Took Max to bookstores and bought Roma a subscription to a car magazine.
But my brothers hobbies were run-of-the-mill.
Perhaps Dad expected a son who liked the English Premier League as much as my mom, Emma, did.
Instead, my chosen form of amusement consisted of seeing what made others tick. Listening to their secrets and stealing their desires before they got a chance to.
If kids made my baby brothers cry on the playground, I wouldn’t wallop them like other bullies.
I’d tell them their fathers were fucking their nannies. It always got interesting, seeing the fallout when they brought the news to their mothers.
Lev tried to reign me in every so often. But at some point, he stepped back and simply told me not to do anything stupid. I took that to mean he hoped I wouldn’t bring the family down with me if I ever fell over the edge.
And I’ve tried my best in that regard because we agree on one thing above all others. We must protect Max and Roma. I’d never purposely do something to hurt my brothers.
Dad turns a shrewd eye over me. “You’re seeing Lennie now?”
“Sorry if that disappoints you.” I lean over the counter, wishing for more sleep.
He sets his coffee on the counter with a thud. “Are you kidding me? Three sons and three daughters. You think Boris and I didn’t want this?”
I lift my head up to discover he’s serious. “I’m guessing Nat being a lesbian ended that idea.”
He reaches for his coffee. “I don’t know, we might’ve been wrong in that regard. But I’m wondering if you’ve thought this all through?”
I’ve thought about everything.
Dad implores, though. “Gia will have your balls.”
“Is that why you’ve always tried to keep me away from her?”
“Yes,” he admits like it’s obvious. “You’re an annoying little shit, but I wasn’t going to let Gia castrate you.”
“I hope you remember that loyalty when we all gather for Christmas.”
Dad ignores my mocking tone. “Lennie doesn’t deserve to be played with, Elijah. She’s a nice girl, who works hard.”
