NIKOLAI
For the first time in fucking ever, I don’t have myself under control.
And that’s saying something since everyone always thinks I have a loose screw and can’t be labeled sane by any stretch of the imagination.
It’s different this time.
I knew it was disastrously different when I didn’t want to talk to my dad. If I did, even he would be insisting on the pills.
A part of me is insistingon the fucking pills.
I hate the fact that I’m even thinking about that possibility. But there’s no other way to kill this state of chaos. I haven’t been sleeping, eating, fucking breathing, and have been surviving on violence, cigarettes, and alcohol.
The alternative to the pills is being stuck in the middle of a black rage for the foreseeable future.
Rage that can’t be doused by any fighting, riding, or any extended fucking sight of blood. If anything, it’s been mounting, intensifying until it’s the only form of oxygen I suck into my lungs day in and day out.
The only time I can breathe properly is when I stare at Bran’s texts and stalk his social media like a stage-five creep. I hate that I can’t hug him to sleep or kiss him. I hate that I can’t look at him and cling to him like an annoying octopus. After he poured his heart out to me in the tub, the last thing I wanted was to leave him, but I had to.
I still have to.
My current state doesn’t allow for me to see him. I don’t trust myself not to hurt him. I really, really fucking don’t.
Even now, I’m battling the urge to grab him by the fucking throat and bruise his lips in front of the whole world. He’d hate me for good this time, but who fucking cares.
The only thing that puts a halt to my plan is the presence of his less pleasant eyesore twin.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?” Jeremy asks on everyone’s behalf.
Everyone, and I mean every single fucking person present, is alarmed by the asshole.
Everyone but his precious brother, who looks pained on Landon’s behalf.
He’s never looked at me like that. Has never shown me an ounce of the concern he unconditionally has for his brother.
It’s an illogical thought, but I can’t shove it out of my broken mind. My muscles tighten and a flood of rage douses me in one fucking go.
“I thought this was a birthday and everyone was invited.” Landon speaks with a nonchalance that scratches my wavering resolve like nails on a chalkboard.
“You’re not,” Kill replies.
“Seems that I am now.” The motherfucker has the nerve to walk to my sister. My fucking sister. “Happy Birthday. Aside from the gift of my attendance, I have something else for you, but I’d rather give it to you in private—”
My body moves on autopilot as I slam my fist in the cunt’s face. He staggers back and blood explodes on his lip.
“Lan.” Glyn leaves Kill and rushes to him. “Just…go.”
“I didn’t go through all the trouble of bribing incompetent security guards just to leave,” he continues talking in that casual tone that will get him killed. Preferably tonight.
I step forward to finish the job and lose his brother for fucking good, because I’m suicidal like that, but Mia clutches my arm and then signs, “He’s not worth it, Niko.”
I’m going to kill him.
I’m going to fucking kill him.
Kill—
“Time out.” He lifts a hand. “Before you proceed with your attempts at rearranging my features, allow me to clarify an important element. I happen to be in the process of courting your sister, and any attempts at ruining my face will not play in the favor of said task.”
What did this asshole just say?
Did he just mention courting? And who? My sister? My Mia?
“I’m going to fucking kill you before you lay a hand on her.” I storm toward him.
“Oh, that’s already done.”
Bran closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose as he breathes slowly.
What the fuck…?
He’s not surprised.
Why is he not surprised?
“What the fuck did you just say?” I ask slowly, my fucked-up brain refusing to believe the words I heard.
No. I’m refusing to believe Bran knew about this fuckery all along. He wouldn’t…
Why not? He obviously cares about his brother’s safety and opinion more than yours.
“I said.” Lan stands toe-to-toe with me. “The touching part already happened. In fact, our rendezvous included more than touching, but I’ll spare you the details since you’re her brother.”
“You fucking—” I raise my fist, but when I’m about to drive it into his face, Bran slides in front of him.
It’s too late.
My fist slams into Bran’s face.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
The blow is so powerful that Bran falls back against his brother and Landon grabs him, then dabs at the blood at his lip.
I don’t resist when hands pull me back. I don’t even know whose they are as I stare at the blood gushing out of Bran’s nose. His face is pained, but he’s trying hard to remain unaffected.
Fuck!
What the fuck have I done? Me hitting Bran? How could I do that? Even unintentionally?
My jaw tics and every fiber inside me urges me to make sure he’s okay. But I can’t do that when his fucking brother is all over him.
So I direct my wrath at my sister. “Is it true?”
Her eyes double in size like whenever she’s done something she’s not supposed to. This, however, is drastically different from sneaking out at night or plotting trouble with Maya.
“Is what the fucker said true, Mia?” I ask again, a vein nearly popping in my neck. “Have you been sleeping with him?”
She steals a glance at Landon and then signs, “It’s not what you think.”
“And what does he think?” Landon releases Bran and I have to summon ungodly fucking resolve to not look at him and focus on his brother instead.
“You shut up,” she signs.
“I’m happy to shut up, but only if you tell the truth and nothing but the truth.”
“What is he talking about?” Kill asks with a note of tension.
Mia flashes Landon her signature hostile glare and signs, “It was just a ruse that meant nothing. It’s all over now.”
He grins with a note of sadism. “I disrespectfully disagree. It was more than a ruse and is far from being over. Mia and I came to a slight disagreement about priorities and my notorious penchant for anarchy. Despite my dramatic entry, I’m not here to stir up any shit. On the contrary, I came to propose a long-due truce between our clubs.”
“Not even when you’re buried six feet under,” I snap, and this time, I can’t help it. I steal a glimpse at Bran and pause when I find him looking at me.
His eyes are begging, pleading. For his fucking brother.
All this time, Landon has been an annoying asshole, and despite Jeremy’s attempts to rile me up against him, I took Kill’s side and let everything he did slide. Because like Kill, I’m in too deep with Landon’s sibling, and I can’t hurt him if I want to be with his brother.
However, Mia is off-fucking-limits.
I’m going to kill Landon for touching my sister. No one will stop me, not even Bran.
“I wouldn’t be so quick to rule it out,” Landon says, still looking at Mia. “This rare chance will work out so well for both of us if you just give it a go.”
“My sister is not for fucking sale,” I growl, my voice unsteady and dripping with the tension that’s flooding me.
“I never suggested that. Unlike what she said, Mia came to meet me every night. There was no coercion involved in our nighttime rendezvous.”
What the fuck?
I look at Mia as if an alien abducted my real sister and put an imposter in her place.
She’s not the type who’d fall for Landon’s fake charms. She’s…Mia. My sister is better than this.
Which is why I’m proud when she signs, “Whether the truce happens or not, I’ll never go back to you.”
A smirk curves his lips. “Never say never.”
“You’re insane,” she signs.
“Guilty as charged.”
“You won’t have me.”
“I had you once.”
“Won’t be happening again.”
“We won’t know until I try.”
“Stop being delusional.”
“Stop fighting the inevitable.”
That’s fucking it.
I wedge myself between them not so gently, and Jeremy accompanies me as I glare at the motherfucker. “Leave before I fuck up your face.”
“Last I checked, that’s not a good starting point for a truce, no?”
Bran grabs onto his brother’s arm and doesn’t look at me as he says, “Let’s just go.”
“I won’t be taking a step outside unless you give me your word about the truce.” Landon stares at Jeremy. “You know this is for everyone’s benefit. Cecily and Glyn included.”
“Not happening.” I speak with difficulty, trying not to grab Bran and shove him to my side.
“It can be for your benefit, too,” Landon tells me. “In return, I will refrain from breaking your face for the damage you inflicted on my brother.”
“Forget it, Lan.” Bran tugs harder on his arm, his voice sounding strangled. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.” Landon cocks his head and glares at me. “I don’t like it when others harm my family.”
“Funny coming from you. Once I’m done with you, nothing will be left for anyone to recognize.”
Bran finally looks at me and I stare back.
I’m going to fucking kill your brother. Since you already hate me, I might as well go all the way.
“Please stop,” Glyn takes her brother’s side and pleads with Kill. “Lan isn’t the type who offers truces, so can you take it?”