Vik (Shot Callers Book 2)

by Belle Aurora

  She’s torturing me.

  With one swift motion, I was hefted up into his arms, and when he walked me toward the bed, closer to the rotting corpse that sat there, my breathing hitched as I let out a frightened, “Not there!” I shifted in his hold, shaking harder than I ever had before, and clutched at him with fisted hands, refusing to let go of his shoulders. I pushed my face into the side of his neck and let out a whispered, “Not there. Not there. Not there.”

  Vik’s arms were pillars of safety, and he would not let anything bad touch me. “All right. Not there. I got you. You’re coming with me.” He held me a moment, thinking of where to go from here, and when he began to move, I relaxed a little, knowing he had me. But when he removed one hand, a light turned on from somewhere around us, and he stopped moving.

  He stopped moving for a long time, and when I lifted my watery gaze to find his rigid body taking in the destruction of my bathroom, all I could do was look at him and whisper a sorry sounding, “It was an accident.”

  Vik’s jaw ticked, but when his eyes met mine, they held some form of understanding there. “It’s okay. It’s not that bad. I can fix this.”

  He sighed with unease and set me down on the vanity, but my arms cinched around him. I was unable to let go, scared of what might happen if I did. Gently but firmly, he removed my arms from him, but I clutched at his forearms with rigid fingers, digging into his flesh.

  “Hey,” he said, crouching down so his eyes lined up with my own. “I’m not going anywhere.” The certainty in his tone had me nodding, but more tears fell, and when he detached my fingers from his arms, he held my hands tightly within his own. “Let me clean this up, and then we’ll clean you up, okay?”

  I nodded once more, but my vision hollowed out until all I saw was the light coming off the reflective surface of the chrome shower doorframe.

  Vik worked at moving the glass around into one pile. He threw it all into the shower, and I shivered from my spot on the vanity. My mind was a mess. I wasn’t sure this was even happening until he crouched down to touch a spot on the floor, then another, and when he twisted back to look at me, he asked cautiously, “Baby, did you walk through this?”

  My voice sounded hoarse. “I can’t remember.”

  And then he was right there, lifting one foot, then the other, taking in the broken skin on the pad of my heel.

  “When did this happen?”

  It felt like I was stuck in a vacuum. His voice sounded so far away. “A few days ago.”

  “And you didn’t call me?”

  Was he angry at me? He sounded angry.

  My voice was small. “I figured I lost that privilege.”

  His face darkened. Opening a drawer to the left, he took out a pair of tweezers, rested my foot on his knee, and picked at the small, already closed wound. “You’re my family, Nas. You don’t get more privileged than that.”

  A small pinch had my foot aching. He plucked something from my heel, lifted the tweezers, and set a small shard of blood-coated glass onto the countertop, then another. And when he was done, he scrutinized the area. “I think that’s all of it.” His heavy brow lowered as he settled his concerned stare on me, then he muttered a quiet, “What am I gonna do with you?”

  If he figured it out, I hoped he’d let me know, because as defective as I felt right then, I was ready to dig myself a hole and await death.

  Taking a small washcloth, he ran it under warm water, wrang it out, then proceeded to wipe away the sweat and tears dried into my cheeks. I closed my eyes as he cleansed my eyelids, my nose, my lips, my neck. And when he looked satisfied with his handywork, he threw the cloth into the sink and stood tall, peering at me with mild disquiet.

  I didn’t know what to say. I felt hollow, like a tree that animals had made a home inside. However, demons rested in this hollow tree, their only job to tear me down from the inside out.

  “C’mere,” my protector uttered, sweeping me up into his arms. I was too weak to protest, not that I was sure I would if I could.

  Anxiety filled me as we entered my bedroom. I closed my eyes, not willing to look toward the bed. My heartbeat quickened, then slowed as Vik took me out of my room and said, “Hold on tight. It’s a lengthy fall down.”

  Slowly but carefully, he walked me down the stairs and into the spare bedroom by the kitchen. He lowered my bottom to the bed, then went about sliding open the door of the closet, retrieving a pillow and spare blankets before setting up a pallet beside the bedframe. Confusion swept through me.

  “What are you doing?” My voice didn’t sound like my own.

  He punched the pillow a few times, allowing a straightforward, “Scaring away a ghost.”

  And suddenly, I was coming back to myself, returning from the darkness. “You don’t have to do that.”

  He spared me a glance before kicking off his shoes. “I know.”

  I felt bad. “I’m sure you have better things to do than babysit me.” I ended on a laugh, but it was more embarrassed than humor-filled.

  The thing was, when Vik decided he was going to do something, he did it. There was no arguing about it.

  This man, the hero in my very own fairy tale, had come for me. He thought to slay my dragons. To rescue me. But I knew deep in my bones that there was only one thing that could save me. And it was the one thing Vik had never offered.

  His heart.

  Lifting the covers, he took my hand with patience and waited until my head hit the pillow before he pulled the comforter up to my neck. For a solid moment, he simply watched me, and when my lids grew heavy, he used the backs of his fingers to stroke my cheek tenderly before moving away.

  And so, he settled in on his crude pallet, lying on his back with a folded arm under his head, and uttered a rough, “You are and always will be my first and only priority.”

  My heart ached, because when he said things like that, it was easy to believe he loved me.

  Luckily, I knew better.

  With a full but heavy heart, my eyes drifted closed, and I floated away into a dreamless sleep.

  Vik

  I woke to the smell of coffee, a head on my chest, slender arms wrapped around me, and a leg firmly wedged between my own. And as I took it all in, I smiled to myself, because nothing had ever felt better.

  Blinking down at the woman who felt the need to struggle in silence, I searched her sleeping face and breathed easy when I found zero sign of anguish.

  Gently extracting her limbs from my own, I felt like the biggest asshole when my cock throbbed painfully. It wasn’t something I could help though. Nas just had that effect on me. She always did.

  Knowing what plagued her, I felt comfortable to leave her to sleep on her own. Daylight was safer than the darkness, and in a few days, this would all be over.

  Nas snuggled into our shared pillow. She must have slipped out of bed in the middle of the night and joined me on the floor. An intense protective streak hit me hard. I couldn’t help myself. Leaning in, I pressed my lips to her temple, silently hoping it would convey everything I felt for her and more.

  No one was more important to me than Nastasia Leokov.

  With one last look at her, I fought a yawn as I left the room and made my way to the kitchen just as Mina approached the back door, holding a plate. The shock on her face at seeing me half asleep in Nas’s kitchen had me grinning. You never had to guess what Mina was thinking. You could see it all right there, written in her expression.

  The second I opened the door, she walked inside cautiously and drew out the sentence, “What are you doing here?”

  Heavy emphasis on “you.”

  Squinting into the sunlight streaming in through the windows, I went to retrieve a couple of mugs and filled them with coffee. “Nas needed me.”

  Mina’s lips puckered as she took the proffered mug and sat on a stool at the breakfast bar. “What, she doesn’t have a vibrator?”

  I rolled my eyes but softened it with a smile. “Not like that. She’s goin
g through some shit.”

  “Like what?” she asked quietly.

  I wasn’t sure it was my place to say, but Mina may have been going through something similar with Lev, so I proceeded with caution. “Do you know what an anniversary reaction is?”

  Mina shook her head, appearing a little confused.

  “You remember when she told you about what was happening to Lev as a child? About how no one would ever have known about it if Nas hadn’t snuck into his bed and taken a beating meant for him?”

  Her expression turned ice-cold. “I’m not likely to forget anytime soon.”

  I explained it as best as I could. “Well, every year when it gets closer to the date of when all that shit went down, Nas gets… tightly strung.” Out of sheer curiosity, I asked, “Does that happen to Lev?”

  Mina shrugged. “Not that I’ve noticed.”

  Yeah. Lev wasn’t the type to wear his emotions openly. He was good at hiding himself.

  “She, uh, has nightmares. Can’t sleep. Becomes exhausted and edgy. Irritable.” I was not about the tell Mina that Nas sometimes saw the rotting corpse of her mother. That wasn’t something she needed to know. “She struggles.”

  Mina’s face softened. “And you’re looking after her.”

  I sipped at my coffee, leaning my hip against the counter. “No place I’d rather be.”

  Quite suddenly, Mina let out a perplexed, “Why aren’t you guys together?”

  I asked myself that question at least ten times a day. I was lost without her. “Asking the wrong person, short stuff.”

  And then she repeated, “And you’re here looking after her.”

  What did she want from me? If that made me a putz, I guess I was a putz. “No greater honor than to stand behind a woman and guard her back. If she’d let me, I’d remain by her side forever and always.”

  ‘Til death do us part.

  A comfortable quiet passed until finally, Mina spoke gently, “I’m glad she has you, Vik.”

  And because I wasn’t always good with talking about my feelings, I jerked my chin toward the plate she brought in. “What you got there?”

  She uncovered the loaf. “Ada’s walnut banana bread.”

  A sound of pure delight escaped me. “Well, shit. Stop wasting my time and serve it up, wifey.”

  Mina looked at me a moment, and I didn’t know what she saw in my face, but it was probably more than I intended. She stood, and a sad smile graced her lips. Her hand curled around my own, sparing me a quick squeeze as she passed me, and the misery I buried settled itself deep in my gut.

  11

  Nastasia

  I knocked for the third time and waited. Again, no one answered, but when I checked the side of the house, both of their cars were in the driveway. I could have used my key, but they were trying for a baby, and I didn’t want to be traumatized by the sight of my brother’s bare ass while he tried to implant a magic bean into Mina’s belly.

  If they weren’t here and their cars hadn’t moved, there was only one other place they could be.

  Sasha’s.

  Did I want to take the short hike over to my eldest brother’s? Not really, no. But regardless of how broody his ass had been lately, I did love him, so I supposed it was only sisterly to stop by and give him a little shit.

  I was kind of giddy over the fact that I’d slept the night before. Actually slept.

  It was the second night Vik slept over. The first night, I was admittedly a mess. However, last night, I wasn’t so fearful. It was as though I’d been expecting him, like I knew he’d come. And knowing he would be there calmed my nerves, giving me the strength to ignore the decomposing corpse who fought desperately for a place in my psyche.

  It was around nine o’clock when I saw the stream of lights sweep past my front window. I heard the jingle of keys, and I didn’t even want to think about how natural it felt for him to use them, as though he belonged here with me. I supposed there was a reason I never asked for them back.

  He entered my house, and when he found me sitting on the floor in the living room, he approached guardedly. Once I lifted my face to greet him, his cautious gaze swept over my features, and I smiled feebly. Gingerly stalking over, he stood close enough that my shoulder brushed his knee, and when he placed his palm on my crown, I leaned into his touch, relaxing my weight against his strong leg.

  Without a word between us, he took my hand and helped me up, gently tugging me along as he brought me up to my room. I stood in the open doorway, unspeaking, with a pounding heart and mild anxiety, but ultimately, the longer I spent out of my room, the more likely it would become a trigger for me. And so, I grew a pair and took a single step inside.

  The second I did, I felt heavy. Pressed down with the weight of a ghost. But still, I endured.

  We dressed for bed in silence, and although Vik brought the spare blankets upstairs, I found I didn’t want him away from me. Not tonight.

  I climbed under the covers and sat up, looking unsure of myself.

  Vik noticed.

  Pretense forgotten, he waited patiently at my bedside for the invitation he knew was coming, and when I lifted the covers, he looked relieved. Taking in a deep breath, then exhaling slowly, climbing in behind me wearing nothing but black boxers, he wrapped his arm around my waist, pressing his steely chest into my back. He stroked the bare skin of my stomach soothingly. I closed my eyes, taking in his warmth, craving the shelter he provided. With a gentle kiss to my shoulder, he sighed into the pillow, and we drifted off to sleep.

  I couldn’t remember a time I slept better. Hence my good mood.

  Now, with a sly smile, I readjusted the box I was holding under my arm and made the walk over to Sasha’s. It didn’t take long. That was one of the most convenient things about living on the same block of land with my brothers. We had always been close, even as kids. The fact that we all agreed to live in such close proximity to one another told you everything you needed to know about how well we got along.

  Well, most days.

  And because Sasha never brought women home, it was safe to use my key here. I unlocked the door and let myself in, shuffling the box I held from arm to arm. I followed the sounds of conversation coming from the back of the house, and when I strolled into the kitchen, I peeped Ada preparing dinner.

  I prowled over, looking over her shoulder before resting my chin on it and letting out a pathetic-sounding, “Ada, I’m hungry.”

  A long wheeze of a chuckle left her, and she lifted a hand to stroke my hair. I closed my eyes and breathed in her sweet perfume.

  “I’ve got a batch of blueberry muffins cooling, but I can whip you up something else if you like.” Her white, coiffed hair tickled my nose. I wrapped an arm around her middle and cuddled her a moment. I felt the words vibrate through her back and into my chest. “Are you staying for dinner, baby?”

  Ada was more than just a cook, more than the property’s caretaker. Having worked for the Leokov’s for more than twenty-five years, she was family. I loved her dearly; we all did. But to me, she acted as a stand-in to the mother I lost. Many times during my teenage years, poor Ada had borne the brunt of the flurry of hormones wreaking havoc on my body. Having no other women to help me through it, she sat me down one day and talked to me about it.

  She took my hand in hers and held it tight. “Your body is making some changes, honey. Those changes are making you into a woman. The problem is, you have the mind of a girl, and it’s finding it hard to deal with these big, womanly emotions you’re feeling. And, baby, I am so sorry for that. No one said becoming a woman was easy.”

  It was so simply put, but I would never forget it. The kindness she showed me while managing to explain the whole puberty thing in a way I could understand was beautiful. Ada really was a wonderful person.

  “I wasn’t invited,” I muttered, feigning hurt.

  Ada laughed before leaning back to look at me. “Remind me when that has ever stopped you.”

  I grinned, and she
half-heartedly shooed me away.

  “Help yourself to a muffin.” I took three. “And don’t think I don’t see what you’re doing, young lady. Dinner is at six sharp, and if you ruin your appetite, I’ll be very disappointed.”

  The moment I walked into the back yard, juggling muffins and the box I’d been carrying, I spotted Lev sitting at the outdoor setting with Sasha while Lidiya ran circles around Mina, who was blowing bubbles much to the enjoyment of the almost four-year-old.

  I did the obligatory thing and greeted my brothers first, leaning down to their proffered cheeks and pecking them lightly before placing everything on the table and heading out to my niece at a full-blown run. Once she spotted me, she did that gorgeous little gasp-laugh she always did when she was excited and shrieked, running in the opposite direction.

  “Where are you going?” I damn near snorted when she tripped and rolled but righted herself and kept on running.

  Shit, she was quick.

  Mina called out, holding back a laugh, “Faster, Lidi. Faster!”

  I was huffing and puffing by the time I caught up to her, and when I scooped her up in my arms, the ear-piercing squeal she let out almost burst my ear drums. I growled and snorted like a monster, kissing her chubby cheek a thousand times before putting my nose to her dark-brown curls as she wiggled in my arms, trying her hardest to escape and have me chase her again. Her scent was baby powder and strawberries. It had been since the second she was born. It was something that was forever etched in the deepest pits of my brain.

  I honestly didn’t think I could love anyone as much as my little chubby dumpling, Lidiya.

  Sitting her high up on my hips, she continued to wriggle until I said, “I got you something. You want a present?”

  Lidi stilled immediately and peered up at me with wide eyes the color of gooey caramel, framed by the longest lashes you ever did see. Her squeaky little voice was enough to make me ovulate. “A pwesent for me?”

  Lev frowned. “Nastasia, must you spoil her?”

  What a question. I shot him a puzzled look. “Uh, yeah. I must.”