Desperate Arrangement: Bouncing Back, Book IV

12

Lukas looked up as a few men walked out of the house, their jovial laughter reaching his ears as they strolled past the shed. One man struck him with a pang of familiarity. Resting the shovel against the fence, Lukas approached the man, intercepting him before he reached the gate. "Pardon me, but I don't think we've been introduced," he said, his tone polite but firm.

The man didn't even blink. "You are going to marry my daughter. I don't need to know anything more than that."

Lukas's eyes narrowed, a flicker of irritation crossing his features. His stance shifted slightly, exuding a subtle but palpable authority. "I see, so the standard manners that come with meeting your son-in-law don't exist for you. Good to know. I'll just have to let my grandmother know that the wedding is off. I can't allow a mannerless girl to come into the Roberts family."

Paling, the man took a step back, clearly taken aback by Lukas's response. "Forgive me, young Master Roberts. I didn't mean to come off as rude."

"Oh, but you did, and I don't appreciate it," Lukas replied, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. He took a step closer, his presence looming. "As you're probably well aware, I'm with the Veiðimenn mafia. If I find out that you're faking anything to do with Emilia, I'm going to have fun putting you in your place. I hate liars with a passion, so don't push my buttons, Johan."

The threat was clear, and Lukas's posture exuded an air of controlled menace. His eyes bore into Johan's, leaving no room for doubt about the seriousness of his words. Johan stumbled back, his face ashen, the gravity of the situation sinking in.

Lukas's tone was icy, banking on the fact that Johan seemed to value money over everything, hoping the taunt would work in his favour. He watched his uncle, who was standing in the shadows of the doorway with an interested gleam in his eyes. Knowing that Kristoph wouldn’t do anything to him legal-wise, he was sure he could get away with beating the man in front of him to a bloodied pulp.

“T-there’s no need to go to extremes,” Johan said, his voice losing its earlier bravado.

Lukas chuckled, a low, deep rumble that sent a wave of terror through the much older man. “Make no mistake, Johan Meyer. I’ll use a f*****g wood chipper to spread you around like fertilizer. Do not – I repeat – do not piss me off. Do I make myself clear or do I need to make you disappear?”

From where they stood on the path flanked by blooming poinsettias and tulips of every color, the other men watched in silence. Their expressions were a mix of surprise and apprehension as they watched one of the most feared men in the village go from confident and boisterous to a trembling, pale mess. The young man, just recently into his full adult years, had taken Johan down a few notches, his authority and power clearly undeniable.

Watching the men leave the property, Julian stared at Lukas in awe. Though Lukas didn’t look like much at first glance, it was obvious to anyone with a trained eye that the young man was not as unassuming as Johan originally thought. The way he had handled the situation left no doubt about his capability and authority. “That was… interesting,” Julian said, the amazement clear in his voice.

“For lack of a better word, I agree,” Kristoph muttered as he joined them. His eyes lingered on Lukas, pride mingling with curiosity. “Thanks, Neffe. Nice to know the good apples that fell off the family tree actually have morals and integrity.”

Lukas's eyes flicked to his uncle, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I know about Julian, Uncle. However, I don’t give a flying f**k. If it comes to blows, Johan f*****g Meyer will be admitted to the local mortuary instead of attending a wedding.”

He snarled, his voice dripping with venom. “Doesn’t need to know me? Ha! What a joke, and here I thought my father was a clown. Yeah, right. Seems Goslar has them in spades.”

Julian nodded, a smirk playing on his lips. “That’s an unfortunate truth, I’m afraid. It was fun to watch him go from full throttle to sputtering apologies.”

“Really? What did I miss about what just happened?” Kristoph asked, his curiosity piqued. He looked between the two younger men, clearly wanting to understand the full story.

Lukas barked a laugh, the sound sharp and full of derision. “He dismissed me, so I gave him a lesson in manners and proper protocol. Do we even have access to a wood chipper?”

“Not sure I want to know why, but yes,” Kristoph answered cautiously, a hint of apprehension in his voice.

There was the unmistakable gleam of retaliation simmering in Lukas’s eyes. “That’s good, 'cause I’ll make good on my threat if he pulls any bullshit stunts.”

“Lukas!” Kristoph exclaimed, shocked yet proud of how committed his nephew was to upholding the family’s name and morals. The tension in the air seemed to ease slightly as the older man realized just how far Lukas was willing to go to protect their family's honor.

After Julian left, promising to save them a table at the Dancing Star, commonly called Emile’s pub after the owner, Lukas went to his room. Pulling out his phone, he placed a quick call home. When his father answered, he got right to the point. “Tell me everything you can remember about Johan Meyer.”

“Why? What’s that patsy-assed, woman-beating piece of s**t done now?” Trace’s anger was clear when he spoke, his voice a low growl.

“So the rumors are true, huh? He’s gone and stepped on the toes connected to the ass he’s gonna have to kiss if he wants to keep his putrid life,” Lukas warned darkly, his grip tightening on the phone.

His father snickered, a harsh sound that echoed through the line. “Damn, kid. You fighting my battles now, too? Whatever he’s done, make sure it’s worth breaking your whistle-clean record.”

“When I said he stepped on my toes, I mean he blatantly dismissed me when I introduced myself. Oma set me up with his daughter, but that family is going to burn if they lied about her,” the younger man stated, the anger simmering just below the surface of his already fractured calm. His jaw clenched as he paced the room, the tension radiating off him in waves.

Trace's voice softened slightly, a rare moment of concern breaking through his usual gruff demeanor. “Just be careful, Lukas. That family’s got more skeletons in their closet than a haunted house. Don’t let them drag you down with them.”

Lukas took a deep breath, his resolve hardening. “I won’t, Dad. But I’m not letting this slide. Johan Meyer’s going to learn what happens when you mess with the Roberts family.”

******

Sitting down at the dinner table, Johanna discreetly looked over at her elder sister. Pretending she didn't hear what Lukas and Julian were talking about had been easy. When Lukas approached her, though, an inexplicable desire tore through her mentality.

"Johanna, you're awfully quiet this evening," her mother said. Noticing her younger daughter’s silence, she pressed onward, "Did something happen today at Mrs. Roberts?"

Shaking her head, the seventeen-year-old swallowed her food with a drink of water before speaking. "No, Mother. I delivered the package as you asked, and I met her grandson on the way. He was fixing her fence with Julian Schneider."

As she spoke, her sister's eyes narrowed on her. Though the older girl was acting hurt, there was a calculating gleam in her eyes that screamed she was up to no good. “You… you spoke to my fiancé? You harlot!”

"You stay away from him, Johanna. I thought I made it clear you were not to go anywhere near that house while he was here," their father said darkly as Emilia preened. It was obvious she happy her sister was in trouble.

Ursula scoffed, “I sent you on an errand, and you’re out talking to boys? I thought I raised you better than this.”

Johanna’s grip on her fork tightened slightly. She was so over being the bad one when it was actually her sister in the wrong. No longer. It was time to make a stand. “Papa, Emilia is not a virgin, and she is planning to take me and Julian with her overseas."

Her father finished his mouthful of food. His face sour with the brooding darkness that spoke of the perceived slight. Grabbing her by the collar, he slapped her hard across her face before shoving her to the floor. Reaching down, he took her by the arm and shook her roughly. "I'll not have you spreading rumours about your sister just because you are jealous, Johanna.”

"Papa, no! Please, don't do this! I beg you," Johanna cried out.

Johan ignored her cries as he dragged her thrashing form out to the wood shed and threw her in. "You will stay in here until you're ready to apologize to your sister. I will not tolerate lies in my house."

"Papa, I'm not lying," she pleaded. Her fists beat weakly against the heavy wooden door as he snapped the lock into place. Her cries intensified, "Papa, please, don’t leave me in here! I’m scared and it’s so cold!”

"Be silent!" He snapped. His footsteps faded as he walked back into the house.

Sobbing, she sank to the cold, sawdust-covered floor of the shed. Her tears fell as the chill seeped through her clothes. Wrapping her arms around herself, she prayed for someone to take her away from this place and save her. “Please, God, I will never ask for your favour again, but please send me an angel of salvation.”