Vik (Shot Callers Book 2)

by Belle Aurora

  If Vik wasn’t willing to tell me what was going on, I was going to have to find out myself.

  My gaze swept over the bookcases and shelves. I opened drawers and went through his closet, recollections assaulting me from left and right. Every item of clothing had a memory attached to it, his scent heavily embedded in each article. Every movie on the shelf, we’d watched together. The manga I pulled off the bookcase was creased from the number of times he read them. I’d sat at his desk, on that very chair, and responded to his emails as he slept off a rough night. I lost count of the number of times I sat up in that bed while he rested his head in my lap, me running my fingers through his hair as he pressed soft kisses to wherever his lips could reach. We’d spent countless days and nights in that bed, and not only for sex but talking and laughing and touching. Just being close to each other. Simply being together.

  And as I stood in the center of his dwelling with my hands on my hips, my eyes flittering around with a frown on my face, my heart sank. I spent the better part of an hour looking for a clue and found nothing.

  With a light sigh, I made my way over to the desk and sat on the computer chair, using my toes to spin me around as I leaned back and considered where I might find answers.

  My brow creased in thought as my eyes slid over to the laptop.

  The laptop I knew the password to.

  Without reservation, I quit spinning, moved close, and lifted the lid of the laptop. When it came to life, I typed the password and lifted my finger to hit Return but stopped just as my finger came to rest on the button.

  This was a huge invasion of privacy. It was psycho levels of overstepping.

  My mouth pulled down as I thought about that. I thought hard.

  A minute went by, and I pulled in a deep breath, exhaling slowly as I made my decision.

  After all, no one accused me of being sane.

  I hit the Power key and watched the screen light up again. I took in a shaky breath, typed in the only password I knew of once more, and waited.

  I was in.

  And as I moved the mouse, hovering over the colorful icons, my first stop was the internet browser. The second I hit it, it shot up from its sleeping position, and when I took in what I was looking at, my face bunched in confusion, and I spoke quietly to myself. “What?”

  Once I read everything on that page, I moved to the next, and that only made my confusion grow. I went through each tab, one by one, and twenty minutes later, I unexpectedly had more questions than what I arrived with.

  But the last tab had me pausing.

  It was a bank statement. Vik’s bank statement. And when I looked at the balance, my brows lifted in shock.

  That was the moment his voice cut through the stillness. “Find what you were looking for?”

  My heart stopped beating, then started again with a bang. I jolted and put a hand to my chest in fright.

  Damn it. I must have been so engrossed with my task that I didn’t hear him approach.

  When I twisted back to face him, I saw him watching me with darkness in his eyes and a rigid jaw.

  Oh yeah. He was pissed.

  But because I was me and he was him, I responded through my confusion in a way that said I wasn’t all that sorry.

  “Well, I might’ve if you organized your tabs a little better.” I was really pushing it when I added an annoyed, “And what’s with your filing system?” He approached slowly, like a lion waiting to pounce on a gazelle, and my mouth went dry. I watched him close the distance between us, and when he sat himself at the edge of the desk, blocking me in, I blinked up at him and let out a hushed, “Not everything needs to stay in your downloads folder.”

  His thick brow lowered, and he moved languidly, folding his arms over his chest, his intense gaze rattling my head.

  Crap. I was in trouble.

  But curiosity had me asking a quiet, almost uncertain, “You want to go to college?”

  A slight pause, then his jaw flexed. “I do.”

  My stomach dropped.

  Why hadn’t I known that? Why hadn’t he told me?

  I jerked my chin toward the open bank statement. “Is that what the money is for?”

  Vik’s rigid stance began to loosen some, but his brow remained as severe as his stare. “It’s not that much.”

  In all the time I’d known him, Vik was not a big saver. Sure, he had money, but never the amount I’d seen on the screen just minutes before.

  Was he joking?

  My eyes widened, and I fought a laugh, then scoffed. “It’s not nothing.”

  “Yeah, well, college is expensive” was the rough reply I got, and when he shuffled on the spot, I could see this was not something he wanted to disclose.

  I did not like this feeling. This cold feeling of having been apart, of my not knowing. It was a noose around my neck worn tightly enough to be uncomfortable but not enough to suffocate.

  Just enough to torture.

  With that response, I pondered what else he neglected to tell me. It broke my heart to be left out of the know. My only thought was to remedy that. To close the gap in the connection we’d almost completely lost.

  I fought through the overwhelming feeling of loss and asked quietly, “What do you want to study?”

  He stared straight ahead. I hadn’t expected an answer. “Business management.”

  That noose tightened a notch. “Business management?”

  “Yeah.” He dipped his chin and did not spare me a glance. “You tend to need it if you want to run your own business.”

  Ow.

  My stomach twisted painfully.

  My brain imploded, and the question was asked quietly, in astonishment, “You want to start your own business?”

  He looked at me then. Glacial eyes met my own, and they lingered, but no response was offered.

  I tried to dispel the mixture of emotions running through me, but of all of them, nothing hit me harder than a sudden feeling of disconnect. “You never talked about it. I thought you were happy with us. With Bleeding Hearts.”

  With me.

  “There’s nothing wrong with wanting more in life,” he rumbled, and it would have hurt less if he’d just taken his fist and slugged me right in the chest.

  He wanted more. More than me.

  My mind went around in circles, but one particular question had my heart aching. “Do you regret declining your football scholarship?”

  Please, say no. Please, say no. Say no.

  “No.” He said the word confidently, and my wild stomach settled. “I would have had to move away, and I didn’t like the thought of being away from y—” He cut himself off, then added quietly, “I didn’t want to move.”

  Okay.

  My heart pulsed heavily as he stopped himself from saying the words I desperately needed to hear. I took his cue, refused to look at him, and revealed gently, “I would have followed you anywhere.”

  A heavy silence washed over us. It locked us in place, and when I chanced a look at him, his heavy brows were marred, but his eyes had softened some.

  I didn’t know what was going through his head, but when he spoke, his words puzzled me. “I begged Sasha to let me in on Bleeding Hearts.” He crossed one ankle over the other and reiterated, “Begged.”

  My chest tightened. I breathed out, “What?”

  His brows rose, and he attempted a smile, but it came off sad as he confessed, “I got a shitty apartment ten minutes away. Small, dingy, toilet didn’t flush right, but I didn’t care. I went home to eat, and some days, I didn’t have enough cash for gas. Whether I was at college in another state or working for your brother, I would have been in the same boat. I mean, none of it mattered, because I had something good, you know?”

  My stomach flip-flopped.

  “I had you.” His voice changed, got lower, deeper, and held a sentiment I couldn’t name. “I stayed for you.”

  The breath I’d been holding left me in a quiet whoosh.

  He’d never admi
tted it, but I always hoped.

  Did he mean it?

  My throat tight, I fought the rush of emotions that hit me and changed the subject, clearing my throat before the warm question was asked. “What business are you thinking of opening?”

  That smile stretched, but he kept to himself.

  My lips parted in disbelief. “You’re not going to tell me? Me?”

  Still, he remained silent. And I found myself talking. “I think I get it.” His dark gaze landed on me, and I peered down at my lap. “If you asked me ten years ago where I thought I’d be right now, I would not have said working the bar at Bleeding Hearts.” My brow furrowed. “I just thought I’d be somewhere else by this time in my life, you know? I had a vision of being settled and making a home with somebody.” With you. A bitter laugh left me. “Instead, I’m Alexis Rose. The naïve, lonely little heiress with too much money and not enough sense.”

  Vik frowned mildly. He looked to be at war with himself before he uttered, “Nothing wrong with taking your time, baby.” I looked up to find his eyes soft, his voice tender. “You’ll get where you’re going. You’re just taking the scenic route.”

  Just taking the scenic route.

  Jesus.

  This was it. This was the reason I loved Vik the way I did. Without rhyme or reason. With a whole heart and aching soul.

  He always knew what to say. It was a gift of his. He somehow provided the right words at the exact moment I needed them.

  I was broken out of my thoughts when he added, “And you’re not Alexis Rose.”

  My lips twitched. “No?”

  “Nah. You’re Moira.” His smile widened as he peeked back at me. “Stylish, confident, and a little nutty.”

  A chuckle left me. I shook my head at his corniness. “I love that show.”

  Immediately, he returned a smiling, “Me too.”

  And, quite suddenly, I was morose. After the feeling of wholesome happiness fled, I let out a low, “I wish you’d talk to me.”

  Vik’s expression turned hollow. When he peered at the wall, into nothingness, he asked, “You stickin’ around?”

  I knew he meant right then, for dinner, but the question felt so much deeper than that.

  Was I?

  “Yes.” I nodded, and when I stood, my hand stretched out, and I cupped his bristled cheek. “I’m sticking around.” His eyes closed slowly, and he ran the coarse stubble over my palm. And, holy shit, I enjoyed that immensely. I couldn’t resist and lightly scraped his cheek with my nails a moment before letting my hand fall. I turned to walk away, when his arm shot out, and he grasped my wrist, holding me in place.

  “About the other night…”

  Good God. Let’s not.

  I twisted to look at him and blinked innocently. “Was there a problem?”

  And when his gaze trailed the length of my body, all the way down to my toes, his full lips seemed to pout a little as he shook his head sluggishly and uttered, “No problem.”

  He kept his heavy gaze on me as though he couldn’t figure me out, and I offered him a single nod. “Good.”

  Later on, as we were seated around the dining table, I lifted my plate as Doroteya piled on kotleti, patties made up of ground meat with minced onion, then coated in breadcrumbs and shallow fried. Anika added some mashed potato and salad, and I grinned happily. It had been so long since I’d eaten like this. It reminded me of home before our household faced the devastation my mother wrought.

  It was funny that I still had good memories of my mother, when I’d seen the absolute worst of her. But I suppose that was how a child’s mind coped with some really heavy shit. The idea that she still managed to get inside my head made me feel at my weakest. But there she was, mostly when I least expected her to penetrate my mind, like the sword of Damocles dangling over my head.

  My family had never truly recovered. We never even spoke her name.

  So, when I peered over at Doroteya and watched her go about her motherly ministrations, clucking about, feeding her family as though it was the most important job there was, it simultaneously made my heart swell and tighten.

  This family was more than just convenient friends. They were a beacon of hope when I had none. I was treated like an equal member, which was probably why they had no issues speaking freely in front of me.

  Yuri glanced across the table at Anika and asked, “New clothes?”

  Anika peered down at herself a moment before shaking her head. “Old ones I haven’t worn in a while.” She picked at her food. “The others are too big at the moment.”

  That wasn’t surprising. The amount of weight she’d lost was damn near alarming.

  Anika’s aunt, Ksenia, looked at her with a measuring eye. “Eat, my flower.” When Anika stiffened, Ksenia went on, and what she said sounded oddly specific. “No man will want you looking like a wilted rose. And we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

  Vik glared at his aunt. “She doesn’t need a man. She needs to focus on herself.”

  Anika smiled in gratitude, and Vik winked at her.

  Ksenia peered at him then. “Perhaps you should focus on yourself as well, Viktor.” Her mouth tightened into a thin line. “After all, with all the time you spend out of this house, you’d think you’d have more to show for it.”

  Whoa.

  The easy ambiance at the table changed instantly.

  Uh, rude.

  When I chanced a glance, I found Yuri and Doroteya looking at each other, but neither said a word.

  Did any of these people know how hard Vik worked? Did they have any idea how much time he sacrificed to earn some cash and look after himself? He was out there getting beaten bloody, and she had the nerve to criticize?

  No, ma’am. Not on my watch.

  “I think Vik’s doing just fine,” I muttered, sitting tall. I stared unblinking at Ksenia.

  “Nas,” Vik uttered in caution, but his aunt’s brow rose.

  She seemed amused at my comment. “Really, Nastasia?”

  Did I stutter?

  My eyes narrowed on her. “Yes, I do.”

  “So, you believe a man at his age, living at home, with no prospects or savings, is doing just fine, yes?” she queried curiously.

  The hairs on my neck stood. She sounded just like my mother.

  “Nas, stop,” Vik uttered sharply, but I barely heard him at all.

  You know what? No.

  What kind of person would I be if I sat there and said nothing?

  Not one worthy of him.

  I thought to stick up for him. I had no idea what chaos I was about to unravel when I scoffed. “I’d hardly call seventy grand no savings.”

  The entire table went silent, and when Yuri placed his fork down, the soft clink sounded awfully loud as he twisted to face his son. The hush seemed to thicken by the second, and when Vik lifted his head heavenward, I didn’t know what I’d done, but I felt it wasn’t good.

  It was one of those moments where you knew something was said, possibly too much, but you couldn’t figure out what.

  Another pass of the table.

  They were staring. All of them. But not a single gaze rested on me.

  All eyes were on Vik, and they were not happy.

  There was a mixture of emotions. His mother was clearly confused. Anika appeared stunned. Ksenia looked pissed. But it was his father’s expression that made my heart skip a beat.

  He looked betrayed.

  Oh no.

  My heart beat out of time, and as the arguing began, I sank deeper into my chair, knowing that whatever pandemonium was about to unleash was my fault.

  Yeah.

  I really screwed up.

  21

  Nastasia

  My stomach ached with dread, and sometime during the argument, when Vik turned to me and spoke over the yelling, I don’t think I’d ever felt worse.

  “You should go.”

  My eyes slid from one person to another, and when my gaze landed on Yuri’s reddened face, I qu
ickly came to realize this was not something Vik wanted me here for. Apparently, I’d done enough. So, with a contrite nod, I got my purse and walked out of the house just as the yelling recommenced.

  I should have driven away.

  Instead, I sat in my car and waited.

  Unsure how long I remained in the dark, I regained focus when I saw him walking slowly toward me, his hands in his pockets, his eyes downcast, looking every bit a broken man. So, when he sat on my hood with his back to me, I took it as an invitation and slid out of my car to join him, taking the spot beside him.

  Of all the things I was expecting him to say, none of them began with, “We’re broke.”

  Bafflement sat heavy in my head, but I said nothing.

  Vik’s stance widened. “I moved home to help out, but the debt just keeps growing. Sold my car to pay bills. Pawned all of my jewelry except for this.” He pulled his hand out of his pocket, and I saw the thick platinum ring I bought him for his thirtieth birthday reflecting light off of his middle finger.

  It was engraved. The inscription said Forever and always.

  I remained quiet, because he was finally opening up to me, and for as long as he felt chatty, I would allow him to speak unchallenged.

  “Our investments are toast. They’re costing us more than they’re paying out. My mom is working from home. My dad has zero work experience, and the cops know who he is pretty damn well. Understandably, no one wants to hire him. Anika is falling apart, and I’m pretty sure Ksenia is up to something shady.” He blew out a breath. “My parents haven’t paid their property taxes for around nine years.” My head snapped to him, and he nodded, looking damn near defeated. “Oh yeah.”

  My breathing got heavy, and I asked around the thickness in my throat, “How bad?”

  It took him a while to answer.

  He licked his full lips. “It’s bad, baby.” He lapsed into a short silence. “I’ve got ’til the end of next month to cough up ninety-six grand, and that’s just so we don’t lose the house.” My eyes closed in shock as he went on, “There was no money coming in, and my pops thought he could fix it. Took out one legit loan—and three others, not so legit. My account was cushioning, a mattress to fall back on in case I couldn’t get the cash any other way. I thought I might be able to swing it, but now I’m not so sure. So, on top of that almost hundred grand, I’ve been working my ass off to make sure no one comes around to break my father’s legs because he was foolish enough to borrow from some really bad people.” He pushed off the car and paced. “I’ve managed to talk to a couple, and they’re willing to give us some time because of who we were and what we did as Chaos, but I can’t hold ’em off forever.”