Luka
The morning after dinner, I’m standing in the kitchen with one of the worst hangovers of my life, moving slowly as I make myself a cup of coffee to ease the pain in my head. I should have known that trying to out-drink Leo was a bad idea, but as the younger brother, I’ve always had a bit of a complex about keeping up with him. The fact that he’s working for me now seems to be immaterial.
I gaze absently out the window when Anna approaches me, her arms crossed over her chest with an expression of worry and discontent.
Now isn’t the time for her to have a problem. I feel like garbage.
“Hey, we need to talk about something,” she says, making direct eye contact with me and keeping it until I turn my head away.
“Sure, what’s up?” I reply, a million possibilities racing through my mind as I rack my brain for an explanation. Was I an asshole the night before? I blacked out around two AM. Was I bothering Anna for sex or something? I wouldn’t remember.
“I’ve been debating telling you this all night, but I figured it was going to drive me crazy if I didn’t,” he begins.
My stomach drops. “What is it?” I ask, trying to mask my panic with a smile.
“I overheard what you guys were talking about last night, and it’s got me really worried, Luka,” she says, sitting across the kitchen island to put a bit of distance between us.
I freeze. Why was she listening? She knows it doesn’t concern her whatsoever. I’ve told her over and over not to involve herself with my work. What was she doing?
“Go on,” I say hesitantly.
“I’m just… I’m frustrated that I brought Rachel here for protection, and here we are having our lives threatened again over some property. It feels like exactly what we were running from before,” she continues, the anger radiating from her expression as she tries to remain level-headed. She’s been planning this conversation since dinner. I’m shocked she didn’t just wake me up in the middle of the night to shout at me.
“Well, first off, that wasn’t your conversation to be having, so you had no business listening in, but I forgive you for that,” I reply sarcastically.
“We live together, Luka! I hear stuff! If you want to have business meetings here, have them in your office if you don’t want me to know what you’re talking about. The wood floors and vaulted ceilings carry sound like crazy,” she responds.
I sigh heavily. “Okay, fine. I’m sorry you felt involved in my business meeting because you overheard something and got curious. What else do you want from me? I mean, since you’re telling me how to live in my own house,” I say, growing more agitated and impatient by the minute.
“I want to feel safe! Before you showed up selling drugs to my sister, we were doing just fine. We didn’t have a lot, but we weren’t constantly worried for our safety! How do you live like that?!” she shouts.
I gesture vaguely around the kitchen. “Uh, this is how I live like that. You’ve been living here for free, and your hysteria surrounding your perceived endangerment is completely unwarranted. I’m the one who’s doing all the dangerous shit, not you.”
She pauses for a moment, breathing deeply and attempting to center herself. “I had shit under control, Luka,” she confesses, her affect shifting from righteous indignation to regret and sadness.
“It didn’t seem like it. I’ve been inside your old apartment, remember? You had black mold and no hand soap in your bathroom.”
“I just don’t want to feel like my sister is going to pay for all this. Having shit isn’t worth worrying about her safety like that,” she continues, and I can see her tearing up.
My skin prickles and heat flushes my face at her display of emotions. “Hey, it’s okay. I think you’ve probably been in the house a bit too much, which is safest for you right now, but maybe we should try to go somewhere for a bit,” I suggest. “We could get out for a while.”
“What do you mean by go somewhere? Do you mean to a park or something?” she asks. “Dmitri will kill us on the spot. We won’t last five minutes out there.”
I laugh a bit. “No, I mean like Brazil. Out of the country.”
Her jaw drops, and I can tell she’s already forgotten why she was angry. “Oh my god, I’ve never even been outside Washington. I can’t imagine going to Brazil,” she says, her voice trailing as she considers the possibility of an entirely new experience.
“Well, we can be on the first plane there tomorrow if that’s what you want,” I reply, smiling sincerely at her as she grows visibly more excited.
“I’d love to, but what about Rachel? She has school until the end of the month,” Anna says as her disposition is dragged down by disappointment.
“She can stay with Pavel’s family. His daughter goes to a school near Rachel’s. I need to call and confirm for sure, but Pavel owes me. I’m sure I can make it happen,” I reply.
Anna considers for a moment, allowing herself to grow excited at the fantasy again. If she’s never even been outside the state, it won’t take much to impress her overseas.
“Okay, I’ll go talk to Rachel and see how she feels about it,” she responds, sliding off the barstool and nearly skipping out the back door to the guest house in her sleep shorts and oversized t-shirt.
I’m able to relax a little bit. Sure, she might be curious why I’m bringing her to Brazil instead of somewhere a little more stereotypically appropriate for a vacation, but I highly doubt she’ll complain. Besides, she’ll get to spend more time with me, far away from any of my mafia obligations.
I finish my coffee, and Anna comes back into the house, her whole face glowing with anticipation. “Rachel says she’s excited to stay with Petra. I’m not worried about leaving her with Pavel either. He’s really grown on me,” she says.
I feel a tinge of misplaced jealously, but I push it down immediately. I can pretend to have feelings when she’s around, but if I actually get them, I’m screwed. I can’t let a woman get in my head like that.
I smile, taking a sip of my coffee and praying that my headache will subside before I have to search for plane tickets online. Computer screens are a hangover’s worst enemy.
Anna doesn’t bother me any further about the conversation she eavesdropped on last night. I shouldn’t have been talking about it at home anyway. She’s right about that. I’m not going to share my business with her. It makes her worry too much, and while flying her out of the country is a fun idea, it’s more of a distraction than a solution.
I’m sure she’s still worried about Dmitri, but my goal is to eliminate him as soon as we discover where he is, knocking Damien down a few notches and saving Anna and Rachel from future harm. She can’t fault me for that.