Desperate Arrangement: Bouncing Back, Book IV

6

Grabbing his phone out of his shoulder bag, Lukas groaned as he turned off airplane mode. Discovering that his father left him seventeen messages was nothing short of terrifying. Could the man relax a little? It was a red-eye flight, and it wasn't as if he was walking into a war zone.

On second thought, if his uppity uncle got on his nerves, he'd probably be responsible for the next family funeral.

Sighing, he breathed a laugh as he made his way over to the nearest bench. His uncle was supposed to be here by now, but there was still no sign of the man. He propped one foot on top of his suitcase and smirked as he dialed his father's number.

One ring—that's all it took before the man answered in a worried tone, "You just landed?"

Lukas laughed. "You got some ESP going on that I should know about, Dad?"

Trace grunted. "Don't start with me, boy. Do you realize that I stayed up all night wondering if you were okay? Don't you know the statistics for plane crashes?"

"Okay, okay! Calm down, Dad," Lukas said, still laughing. "I had my phone on airplane mode and only just got to look at it. I'm waiting on Uncle Elias to come and get me. I thought I'd check in and see if you got any sleep, but I guess that was a useless idea."

"Not entirely," Trace replied with a laugh. "I got a few Z's in between the nightmares of losing my youngest brat, and the phone calls from your friends. I swear your brother's going to lose his mind if you don't call him next."

Homesickness swept through Lukas, fed by his father's words. He fought against it, pushing it back until it was nothing but a forgotten memory. "I'm nervous, Dad," he whispered. "What if she turns out to be like the others? What if the mention of the word mafia sends her off the deep end? What then?"

"You could always join the priesthood," Trace snickered. "You're already halfway there."

Rolling his eyes, Lukas muttered, "You're not funny, Dad. I'm way too vulgar to be at the pulpit giving sermons on Sundays."

"Do me a favor," Trace said, mischief lacing his tone. "Call your brother in front of your uncle."

"Dad, I don't even want to be around them. He's an ass." Saying his farewells to his father, Lukas hung up the call and sighed.

Sunlight filtered through the lightly-tinted glass of the windows and doors. Dust danced in the blindingly bright beams, swirling around each other like spirits engrossed in Schuhplattler. White-washed walls, partially covered with hanging plants and signs, practically sparkled in the afternoon light as he sent a mass message to his friends. Letting them know that he made it safe and that he already missed them was more than they deserved for blowing up his phone the way they did.

He was an introvert, for crying out loud. He didn't need all the attention.

Running his hand over his upper bicep, he noted that he was starting to maintain his newly-attained muscles. His boxing training with Robert was paying off more and more. Hell, with one hit, he could probably take out his uncle.

"Neffe, did your flight arrive early?"

Fighting to keep the glare off his face, Lukas stared up at the woman who was talking to him. "No, actually, you and Uncle Elias are late."

"Your father didn't come?" She questioned as she peered around him.

"No, and my brother didn't either. Then again, what the hell do you care about Markus, right?" He snapped.

His uncle stepped toward him, but Lukas’s rage was smouldered just below the surface of his calm exterior. "I'm not putting up with your crap while I'm here, so get the hell over it."

"That freak is a stain on the family," his uncle raged.

Snorting a laugh, Lukas shook his head, "Your bigotry and hate have no place in our family."

Looking around, he spotted an older man he knew was a friend of his grandparents coming over to them. He dropped his uncle's wrist and ran a hand through his hair.

"Guten Tag," the man said. Short and round about the middle, he seemed jolly enough. Dressed in traditional Lederhosen, he eagerly shook the young man's hand.

“I thought I saw the younger version of your Opa. A good-hearted man with good morals.” The man grinned, showing off a row of yellowed teeth, "Your father and mother came here to visit once with their adorable boys. It was a long time ago now, though. You drink?"

"Not often," Lukas replied.

His grin widened, "You must come have a drink with an old family friend, yes? You go to the Dancing Star and ask for Klaus when you have time."

"He's not here to have fun, Mr. Farmer. He's here to get married," Elias snapped as he snatched Lukas's suitcase from the floor.

Smirking, Lukas turned to the man and said, "Actually, I'd love to try the spirits here, so I'll take you up on the offer, Klaus. Besides, I'm here to relax as well as meet my bride."

Paling, Elias narrowed his eyes at his nephew, "While you live under my roof, you follow my rules. I do not want you contacting that faggot brother or yours, either. I don't want my children tainted by him."

"That's fine, I'll be staying with Oma anyway. She's the one I asked to help me, not you. She's the one who wrote me back saying that she found me a suitable wife," Lukas snapped.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. The alarmingly loud warning blast let him know exactly who was on the other line. Picking up the call, Lukas said, "Well, hello, brother."

"Oh, they're nearby?"

"Yup," he replied.

Markus chuckled, "He gave in last night. s**t, best sleep I've had in years."

"Didn't need to know that, dude. Is Dad finally sleeping, or did he try to slip past Aunt Amber again?"

"Yup, he's out. She gave me some Liquid Melatonin to slip into his water. Are you giving them hell already?"

Lukas laughed, "Oh, yes, I'm totally going to go all out if he thinks I'm rolling over to play dead for him. I don't play."

"We're Veiðimenn. If we play, it's for keeps," Mark snickered. The phone changed hands.

"You're alive," Jaxon asked dryly.

"And you got laid," Lukas replied with a throaty laugh. He was going to torment the hell out of his brother for this. "I'm going to be staying at my Oma's house, so I'll call or text when I can, okay? I'll see you guys in a few weeks at best. If it doesn't work out, I'll be home in a week."

"I hope it does work out," Jaxon answered. "You've been really screwed up lately. Hey, I've been meaning to ask you, how have you been taking care of... it?"

Laughing, Lukas followed his aunt and uncle out to their car.

"Robbie's been teaching me some boxing moves, so we train when we're frustrated. I've always been interested, but now I actually know how to box."

"Nice, I'm going to go back to sleep," the other man yawned. "Stay safe."

"You, too, man." Hanging up the call, he narrowed his gaze on his uncle, "Got a problem?"

"How can you accept him like that? How are you not disgusted by it?"

"As I said, he's my brother. He's more important to me than your tainted opinion," Luke shot back.

The rest of the ride was somewhat quiet as Elias kept his mouth shut. Overhearing that his nephew was training to be a boxer didn't help his mood, either.

Houses and businesses gave way to the crisp, clean farmland of Goslar as the city faded behind them. The houses were few and far between now as they made their way along the road that led to the old family farm.

When the car pulled to a stop outside his Oma's house, Lukas felt his anger rising to new levels. "Who's helping her keep up the house?"

"We keep telling her to sell and move in with us, but she refuses," his aunt replied.

Turning his grey gaze to her, he said, "Are you freaking kidding me? She helped Opa build that house. It's all she knows, and you want to take that from her? The woman is in her seventies, for f**k's sake!"

"Show some respect," his uncle sneered.

"I'll show some respect, alright," Lukas seethed. "I'll ask Uncle Kristoph to bring me back to the airport when I’m done here. Go home to your fancy house in the city. I'll stay here and help Oma."

“Frat!” Elias grunted, angrily throwing Lukas's things out of the trunk.

Raising his middle finger to the retreating car, he smirked. "Screw you, too, asshole."

Making his way up the path with his luggage, Lukas glanced around in disgust. Spotting his grandmother near the shed, struggling with an armload of logs, he called out, "Oma, let me get that for you. I'm going to be staying here, so I might as well pull my weight, right?"

The woman sobbed, dropping the logs, and grabbed him in a tight hug. "It's so good to see you, Lukas."

"Dad, Markus, and Jaxon send their love," he replied. "Oma Marie, what needs to be done around here? This place looks deplorable."

She smiled brightly. "You take over the wood. It needs to be chopped and then stacked by the shed. I’ll go get some food made for you. You’re far too skinny, child."

Thinking about his training, Lukas realized that doing farm chores could help him gain more muscle mass. Staying with his grandmother for the next few weeks would definitely be beneficial to his mind and body.