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Lukas angrily crumpled the page he was using to take down notes. Turning to the overflowing wastebasket by the door, he tossed the balled-up paper at the small net hanging above it. It bounced off the wood before slipping through the opening, only to land on the floor with the rest of the discarded papers. Working on the new firewall blueprint Ross entrusted to him, the young man groaned, beyond agitated that nothing seemed to be going his way.
Frustration welled up inside him, pushing its way to the surface of his mind—pulsating, dark, and dangerous. He wanted to sink himself deep into the comforting escape of a woman's embrace but shook his head, pushing the thought aside. That would be one headache he couldn't handle. Memphis and Kennedy were living proof that no form of contraception was one hundred percent effective.
Lukas opened his lockbox, revealing several neatly arranged porn magazines. He had been shocked when his father brought the box in one night while Mark was gone. Confused, he had looked at his devout father with a mix of shock and indignation. "Dad!"
"What?" Trace had countered. "You're celibate, not dead. I'm pretty damn sure that any man with a heartbeat has m*********d at least once in their lives. Besides, this way, I know you won’t come home to tell me you got some random chick knocked up."
"Yeah, but Matthew 5:28, Dad," Lukas replied.
Trace merely laughed at his son. "A, you're not in a relationship to be having adulterous thoughts. B, s****l self-release helps with stress and daily frustrations. If you don't believe me, go talk to the resident doctor."
"No, thank you," Lukas scowled. "You ruined it for me when you got her to give me and Mark the s*x talk."
"What was I supposed to do? I was raising two bratty little punks on my own," his father grunted.
Rolling his eyes, Lukas accepted the gift of tissues and the lockbox of porn. He never thought he would ever have to use it, but the need had somehow risen so high he anything would help take the edge off at this time.
Flipping through the magazines, he felt his frustrations grow, deepening their hold on him and sinking their poisonous claws under his skin. They tore at his soul, echoing in the darkest corners of his mind as they began consuming him whole.
"I can't do this," he muttered. "It just doesn't feel right."
Seething, he yelled as he threw the box to the floor, the magazines scattering over the paper-littered carpet. Tearing at his hair, he sobbed. His irritation grew, taking control of his mind in slow, steady trickles. What little patience he had was beginning to wilt like cut flowers left in the heat too long.
Lukas needed an escape, a way to work off the intense emotions before he ended up hurting someone. He enjoyed working out, taking his unrequited frustrations out on the equipment in the Underground.
Russell was out on a date with his wife, so asking him for help was out of the question. His brother was still healing from the beating Jaxon gave him, so that was a no-go. Meanwhile, his bestie was too busy getting ready to leave the country for a few weeks, and he definitely didn’t want to be on the receiving end of that thrashing anyway. Phoenix was swamped with working with his father and Maestro De Luca.
He needed someone who wasn't afraid to deal out some damage, someone who wasn't scared of getting in trouble, but even Kennedy was too busy managing the garage’s flow of traffic while dealing with her club and raising her son. Memphis was still attending college to get his law degree, and when he wasn’t busy, he was spending time with his family.
"There's gotta be someone as flustered as I am around here. I wonder what Robbie's up to?" Lukas muttered as he made his way down to the lower part of the Towers. The bullet-proof doors swung open as the lift reached the floor below. He smirked as an irate-looking Robert Drake stepped inside. "What's got your knickers in a knot?"
"My uncle's being a stubborn ass again," Robert snarled.
Lukas's grin widened. "Just how frustrated are you?"
"Enough to make anyone who decides to piss me off swallow their teeth," Robert grunted dryly.
"Awesome," Lukas replied. "Because I'm in desperate need of a damn good fight, and everyone else is either too busy with their own lives or not around at the moment."
Robert's face paled. "I don't need your father coming down hard on me because we're not trained on the same level, kid. Go find someone else."
"You're the only other person I know who can give as good as he gets. Besides, I'm so frustrated that punching my father on purpose sounds like fun right now," Lukas groaned.
Staring at the younger man, Robert couldn't help but feel for him. "Since you're willing to risk death to get some form of sanity back, I'll do it. What's your safe word?"
"You won't be able to pronounce it right," Lukas laughed.
"Try me."
"Schöner Tag," the younger man answered.
Trying not to tip the scales, Robert laughed. "Yeah, no. I can't even speak English half the time without messing up and going street."
"As long as I say it clearly enough, and you back off when that happens, no one can say anything about me being bruised and bloody," Lukas said.
"What's your go-to?"
Lukas fell quiet. Then, "Would you believe boxing?"
"What? No way! You're yanking my chain, ain't ya?"
His frustrations were melting away, releasing their hold on his mentality. Talking to someone face to face was more relaxing than he thought. "Nope. Why?”
“Because that's my go-to," Robert laughed. He pushed the red button to stop the lift and swiped his keycard to access the Underground. "You know, I've been with the Veiðimenn since I was only twelve? My father was convinced it was going to help me get over my rebellious stage, and he was right. Being involved with something this big while everyone treats you like extended family? It's a utopia for those shunned by society. You knew my dad and Uncle Ross were friends with Hans and the other heirs back in high school, but did you know he had a hand in getting them out of their old Family? Hans didn't give two f***s about anything as long as his people were loyal to him. It’s the reason your father was never asked to work on Sundays. Hans knew it would disrupt his family time and his religiousness, so he always made sure Trace had that specific day off."
Surprised, Lukas slid his grey gaze to Robert's face. "Serious? I mean, Hans was a great guy, but what if someone didn't want to live the mafia life anymore?"
"He let them go," Robert replied softly. "He did it for my mom and dad just after I was born. The only condition was that they couldn’t talk about their connection to him to anyone who wasn’t an active member and that their home would be listed as a mob safe house if need be."
His eyes wandering the lift, Lukas took a breath. "I've been meaning to ask, and please don't take offense, but why is your skin lighter than Ross's if you guys are related?"
Rich, throaty laughter filled the small space. Once he got his bearings, Robert said, "Believe it or not, it's because my mother is white. My father and Ross are brothers. Actually, the reason Uncle Ross can get away with whatever he wants is that my great-uncle James married Hans' older sister, Katrin. Their daughter, Rosetta, is training Seth to take over for her as we speak."
Lukas's mind ground to a screeching halt. "Are you serious?"
"Callum just happens to be my second cousin," Robert stated as the lift stopped at the entrance to the Underground.
Shaking his head, Lukas followed the other man down the corridor. "For the love of God, explain that to me."
"Hans and Katrin were brother and sister. Katrin married my great-uncle, James Drake. In turn, Hans became my great-uncle as well. Thus, Callum is my second cousin via marriage."
"Stop, stop, stop," Lukas rushed out. "You're making my head spin with this family tree stuff. I could care less if your great-uncle was a fat-assed baboon that screwed half the jungle. I still think you’re a damn good guy and a great friend, Robbie."
Smirking, Robert dropped his gym bag by the locker door and huffed a laugh. "Awe, kid, you're gonna make me blush, and I don't look good in red. Set your stuff up and meet me by the equipment. Since you're not on my level, let me show you a few techniques. Once you're a better fighter, I'll give you lessons in the ring. Until then, we train."
"Will do," Lukas agreed. "When I've had enough, I'll say my code, and we'll call it a day."
Suddenly concerned that the younger man was going to get him into trouble with Trace, Robert winced. "What's got your panties in a twist anyway? I forgot to ask earlier."
"Sexually and mentally frustrated," Lukas barked out as he wrapped his hands.
"Then go get laid," Robert laughed.
"I would, but that would mean I failed to follow through on a promise I made to myself and God."
His dark, copper-colored eyes widening, Robert let his jaw drop. "I keep forgetting that your family is super religious. Don't you and your dad take issue with your brother, though?"
"Naw," Lukas said, shaking his head. "Dad did at first, but I'm cool with it. Even our priest, Father Nicholas, said that the real sin would be to abandon one's child when they need the most guidance."
Laughing, Robert shook his head and led the teen over to the boxing area of the Underground.
- Writer
