Page 12 of Unbroken
Chapter 4
VADKA
As soon asI get to the bike, it feels as if a weight’s been lifted. Luka’s nanny was a middle-aged woman who taught him to sit at the table politely and chew with his mouth closed. But she was stern and a little detached, and even though I knew Luka to be safe, he cried every time I left.
He’ll be thrilled to see Ruthie when he wakes up. He loves her.
My phone connects to the Bluetooth on my helmet, revealing so many missed calls and texts from Rafail, I cringe.
He’s gonna kick my ass.
He might be my best friend, but Rafail does not fuck around when it comes to the brotherhood. I ought to know. I’m one of the few members who wasn’t born into the Kopolov family by blood. We’ve been friends since childhood, long before his parents died and he became theguardian to his siblings before he was barely an adult himself.
When we were just kids, neither of us could’ve imagined the way we’d both face the kind of loss you never fully recover from.
I hit the button and call him.
“Where thefuckhave you been?” he growls.
“Fell asleep. I didn’t realize my phone was dead.”
I hear him blow out a breath on the other side of the line. When he lowers his voice and gets calm, heads are about to roll. I grit my teeth.
“Vadka. We talked. I can’t let this continue.” I can almost imagine him shaking his head on the other side of the line. “I swear to god, brother, you fuck up like this again, and I’ll demote you.”
Demotion in the Bratva is a punishment worse than death. I’d rather die than face the embarrassment.
“It won’t happen again, brother. I’m sorry.”
He sighs. “Ruthie’s at the house?”
“Yeah. She text you?”
“Yeah. Alright. Don’t come to the house. Meet me at Black Line. We have shit to go over, and it’ll be more fastidious that way.”
“Got it.”
I’m only a few minutes away.
I park my motorcycle in theOwnerspot and tuck my helmet under my arm before I check my phone. Nothing from Ruthie.
Luka up yet?
I hate leaving him.
A few seconds later, I get a response. It’s a picture of Luka sitting at the kitchen table, grinning, eating something topped with billows of whipped cream. I can’t help but smile.
No juice until he ate first?
Ruthie
Yeah yeah
Little brat. I roll my eyes. I can still see her standing in the living room, eying my five o’clock shadow like she wanted to touch me.
My sister liked you clean-shaven.
It stuck with me for some reason, probably because I remember the way she and her sister used to bicker about it. Mariah hated beards, and Ruthie said she loved them and always teased me when she caught me first thing in the morning. Silly, pointless argument I thought I’d forgotten.
