TAKING OVER TROFIM (Dominion of Brothers series Book 4) by Talon P.S., Princess S.O. Page A

disappeared into the boathouse.
    Trofim tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but do that and he feared his heart might completely give out. It was as if only one thing was going to survive this hit and he couldn’t make the choice. He hurt both mentally and physically. Hemi was suddenly there, reaching out a hand and Trofim took it, letting the big tatted, Maori man haul him out. Even on the deck, Trofim didn’t let go just yet. He needed that steady rock of a man to help him find his legs.
    “Hey, why looking so low, sweetness?”
    Trofim just looked up at the tattooed face looming over him with a soft expression. He didn’t even know what to say. He glanced at the others. River and Mitch looked from where Darko had stormed off and back to Trofim. But Trofim could see by their expressions they weren’t expecting any explanation. Out of the nine Laszkovi brothers, five of them rowed. It wasn’t the first time any of the teammates had ever seen the brothers fight amongst themselves and wouldn’t likely be the last. Zane, however, took a more hands on approach and came up to pat his back. “Come on, I’ll help you put it away.”
    Trofim just numbly nodded and mimicked his best friend’s movements.
    Shutting his own head off so he could give in to what his heart wanted and be with Shay had been hard enough. Only Trofim needed his family to back him, or he was going to fall apart from the stress that came with being back with Shay.
    They’d just gotten the two seater sculling shell out of the water when they heard the heated argument between Darko and Pyotr coming from inside the boathouse.
    “Maybe’s you be needin’ to go on in. See’n this is family stuffs.” Noah gave Trofim an understanding look and relieved him of his duties of cleaning up.
    Still on autopilot, Trofim only nodded and numbly did as told. He was completely dazed, unaware of any action deliberated on his own. If someone told him to walk off a short bridge, he’d likely have just nodded and done it. His chest felt the pressure of a wrecking ball slamming against it as he headed in, drawing closer to the clash of titans inside.
    Darko was shouting every obscenity plus a few fabricated ones at their eldest brother. And every word of it ripped at Trofim all the more. Of all his brothers, he felt closest to Darko, so not having him on his side for this was an emptiness Trofim wasn’t sure how to deal with. He’d just made the top step when he heard Darko’s phone ring.
    “Where you at?” There was a slight pause and from there Darko blasted out over the phone, still clinging to his anger. “Well, why the fuck didn’t you answer me when I called earlier?— Yes, it’s fucking important. So where are you— No. Stop! Don’t come to the boathouse. No, just pull over right where you are and wait for me. I’ll jog over and meet you. No! Pull over! Damn it, don’t come get me. I’ll explain when I get there.” Darko shot a glare over at Trofim. He cut the call and tossed his phone in his pocket, grabbed his jacket, and stormed out. Jabbing a final finger in Pyotr’s direction, “Should’ve told us.”
    Trofim fell to the bench at his locker, watching as Darko full steamed it ahead and left in the cloud of rage that clung to him like smoke. Trofim listened to the pounding of foot falls on the stairs then the front door slam closed. Another curse rang out from the parking lot below, loud enough they all heard it. Trofim finally managed to swallow and he swept his gaze over to where Pyotr stood in the threshold. Cliff hovering right behind him, wearing a mixed expression of scowl and bewilderment.
    Pyotr’s on the other hand seemed unreadable.
    Trofim fell forward, folding over, placing his head on his knees and covered it with his hands as they shook. He felt sick.
    And then he felt Pyotr next to him. A fatherly arm coming over his back to hold him and Trofim leaned in against his chest. “He hates me now.”
    A dark pitched voice