by Belle Aurora
“If I had the choice”—he looked me in the eye—“I would choose you, Nas. Every time.”
That was the second time he’d told me as much, and I knew he truly believed he would… as he continuously left me.
I forced a small smile I did not feel in the slightest. “I’m feeling a little better now.”
And the relief in his face told me I’d done well hiding my sorrow. “Good. That’s good.” But he continued to look down at my rosy face, refusing to move, clearly at war with himself.
He needs the money.
He has a family to support.
My ego took a beating as I conceded he really did need to go.
“I’m okay,” I reassured him quietly. It pained me to dismiss him the way I was. “I’m…” I swallowed hard around the thickness in my throat. “I’m really tired.”
“Right.” He took in a deep breath, exhaling slowly. “I’ll get out of your hair.”
My heart cracked as I watched his retreating form. When he reached the door, I called out, “Vik?”
He twisted back to look at me.
“Thanks for looking after me,” I said in softly spoken gratitude.
I don’t know why he seemed to be irritated at my appreciation, but he lowered his face and said a somewhat distant, “Feel better, yeah?”
And then I was alone.
Again.
It was funny how eight letters could change your life.
My day had been like any other day. I had fought through the worst of my stomach troubles, ate nothing but crackers and toast, sipping on ginger ale, and felt a whole lot better than I had yesterday.
Every time I thought about food, real food, my stomach churned violently in my gut, so I nibbled here and there, appeasing my belly and avoiding another bathroom catastrophe.
He said he would come, so I wasn’t too surprised when I heard his car pull up out front. What did surprise me was the fact that he used his key, and when he let himself in wearing a wide smile over a bruised chin and semi-swollen nose, well, that did surprise me.
Vik found me in the kitchen, sitting at my table with a hot mug of tea in my hands.
“Hey, baby.” He came around to where I sat, leaned down, and kissed my brow before walking past me. It was so casual that I blinked. “You good?”
My brow furrowed at the sudden change in his demeanor. After all, the night before, he was downright forlorn. My response was drawn out, “Better.”
His body hung out of my fridge. “Nice,” he uttered, taking out a soda and opening it before coming to sit opposite me with a happy beam. “See? I knew it was nothing serious. All you needed was a good yak.”
“Right.” I couldn’t have helped the way my eyes narrowed on him if I tried. “You know, for a guy who looks like a beat-up turd, you seem really pleased.”
“Do I?” He blinked innocently.
“Yeah, you do,” I muttered, lifting my tea to my lips and blowing on it before taking a sip. “Don’t get me wrong; it’s nice to see you like this, but it has me wondering, is all.”
“I just…” His expression was purely joyful. “I just have to tell someone.”
Okay.
He licked his lips, looking about as nervous as I’d ever seen him. Reaching into his back pocket, he took out a folded piece of paper and handed it to me. I eyed it curiously before I chanced another longing glance at the man I loved. He jerked his chin toward the paper, and I took it, my nimble fingers unfolding the printout. I read the words slowly, carefully, shuffling to sit up properly as a small smile graced my lips.
“Vik,” I breathed out, awestruck, looking up to find him smiling proudly.
“I got accepted.”
He sounded as though he could hardly believe it himself. And I hated that.
This man… this beautiful man… he was worth everything. He deserved it all. This strong, selfless man, who gave me the world with a kiss and buried me with those same lips.
“So,” he began, and I looked up into his anxious face. “What do you think?”
My silence was completely unintentional.
His smile fell slightly. “Baby,” he said in that way that slayed me each and every time. “Should I do it?”
Should he do it?
He was asking me as though my opinion was the only one that mattered, and though that warmed my frigid heart like nobody’s business, this just added to his already full plate. I knew that with this newest commitment, something else would have to be scraped off.
Likely me.
The seconds passed slowly, and still, he watched me, wanting my approval. Craving it.
I swallowed through the pain. “Yeah.” Blinking, I forced a smile and shook myself out of my stupor. A little more enthusiastic this time. “Yes. Of course you should do it, Vik.” The words sounded strained to my ears. “This is an amazing opportunity. Y-You have to do it.”
I wondered if they sounded strained to him.
His wide, comforted smile told me it hadn’t. “I’m a little shook but kind of jazzed. Between work and everything else, time is gonna be an issue. Classes run during the day, and the best part is that majority of the work can be done online at your own pace, so I can still manage…”
He went off on a tangent, but I couldn’t hear the words over the blood rushing through my ears. So, I gave him my smile, my attention, and my reluctant approval.
I held in my heartbreak for close to forty minutes, up until the time he stood, then pulled me up and into his arms, his embrace silently thanking me for being there for him. I closed my eyes and breathed in the familiar scent of him, taking comfort where I could.
Numb to the core, I watched him go, and it took me a second to realize I’d been standing alone in the foyer a lot longer than necessary.
When I came back to earth, I made my way up the stairs and into the bathroom, where I picked up the blue-and-white stick, staring down at the eight little letters that had already changed my life.
Positive.
26
Vik
I was tired. Worn to the bone. Spread thinner than butter on toast during the Depression. I was relieved to be home after a long day but the moment I walked inside, the tight expressions on my parents’ faces had me pausing midstep.
The atmosphere. The air around us. It all felt off. And when I proceeded to enter the living room, I saw the problem with my own eyes.
You have got to be fucking with me.
For a second, my lungs tightened. “What are you doing here?”
The man simply blinked at me, plainly unimpressed.
Roam sat at one end of the sofa, dressed pristinely in a black casual suit and Italian leather boots, while Anika sat on the opposite end, wringing her fingers subtly. It was clear she was uncomfortable. And Roam was watching her in a way I did not like.
Without taking his eyes off my sister, he answered coolly, “Now, that’s not a very polite way to greet a colleague.”
Oh, please.
Roam was not a colleague. He was a plague. Pestilence in human form.
Regretfully, he was my cash cow. The answer to my problems. But he was crossing a line. “What are you doing here, Roam?”
And like a fucking martyr, he said, “I wanted to meet the family I was putting myself in peril to assist.”
Putting himself in peril?
This bitch.
Like I hadn’t almost taken a bullet to the chest the night before for a reckless teenager who was hellbent on getting himself killed and taking me with him.
My jaw clenched. “If you wanted to talk to me, all you had to do was call.”
“But I didn’t.” He looked at me then, his eyes dark and cold and inhuman. “Did I?”
Fucking hell. I had a growing feeling that I made a huge mistake by involving myself with this man.
My suspicions were confirmed when he stood and strode over to the mantel, picking up my mother’s well-loved knickknacks, looking them over while saying, “It hasn’t escaped me tha
t this short-term arrangement of ours has been devised to benefit yourself mainly, and I seek to change the terms to make this business endeavor of ours a little more evenly sided.”
No. That wasn’t the deal. No, no, no.
My insides tightened with irritation.
Sasha warned me. He fucking warned me. But did my desperate ass listen?
No.
I knew this was too good to be true. I already made a shit-ton of money from this psycho. I needed this. And depending on what the amendment to the arrangement was, I was most likely going to have to accept. I was so close to making enough to save the house. I didn’t have a lot of time left.
If he wanted my goddamn soul, he could have it.
The motherfucker had cornered me. And like the idiot I was, I allowed it.
Careful not to display my angst, my eyes landed on my mother as she shook her head in warning, and I asked, “What are you after?”
Roam snuffled out a laugh, turned to face me, and said, “Something that will cost you more than just money.”
The way he said it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand. Yeah. The Disciples were not people you fucked with, and I was about to learn the hard way.
Whatever I thought he might say, I was not expecting him to utter a void, emotionless, “I want her,” and when he lifted his hand, pointing to Anika, my anger imploded.
Taking a solid step forward, I snarled, “The fuck you say?”
He was kidding. He had to be. There was no way in hell.
My sister’s head snapped toward me, and the fear in her eyes had my fists clenching.
Roam did not waver. In fact, he smiled slow and sly, and repeated himself, “I want her.”
Goddamn. I was shaking with pent-up rage. I struggled to keep my tone even. “You can’t have her.”
When my mother began to speak in rapid-fire Russian, my father attempted to calm her, and Roam looked at them with a hollowness that was chilling. His demeanor did not match his words as he spoke directly to my mom, revealing he understood a bit of Russian. “No, I won’t hurt her. In fact, while she’s with me, you can guarantee that nobody would have a chance to get close enough to touch her.”
My father’s jaw tightened. “You can have anything else. Anything.”
My father… begging. The thought sickened me.
Jesus. How low we’d fallen.
A slow smile spread Roam’s lips, but predictably, it didn’t reach his eyes. “I don’t want anything else.”
He was enjoying this.
My mother peered at me with wide eyes, beseeching quietly, “Viktor. No.”
It was okay.
I wouldn’t give in. This was my sister. I wasn’t about to feed her to the sharks. Especially not one who looked as hungry as Roam did.
My pride was set aside, and it felt wrong to be in a position that felt so unnatural, but for the first time in my life, I pleaded, “Anything else, Roam. Anything. You want me to do a couple of jobs without payment? You want a marker? Done. You need drugs? I got a guy. Want fast women? I know a few. I can meet you halfway,” I told him, knowing I was giving him the upper hand, “but you can’t have her.”
I silently prayed he’d be the bigger man. I should have known better.
Roam looked at me a while, and when he slid his hands into his pants pockets, he blew out a breath and spoke frankly. “Well, that’s a shame, because”—one shoulder lifted unflappably—“you’ve pretty much solidified my need to have her.”
Oh God.
No.
My chest ached.
What have I done?
I turned to look at my sister and found her looking right back at me.
We were in trouble here.
Roam’s eyes darkened. “If I don’t get her, you don’t get work. Ask yourself—how desperate are you?”
Desperate as hell. But not desperate enough to gift him my sister.
I was already shaking my head and saying, “No. You can’t have her,” when from the far side of the sofa, Anika looked down at her lap and let out a low, hushed, “I’ll do it.”
“What?” I exclaimed with fury, my harsh gaze snapping to hers.
“Anika, no,” my father said irately, standing.
Mother cried out, “No!” And when she looked to Roam with tears in her eyes, she put her hands together in prayer and begged, “Please. Not my daughter.”
Surprisingly, Roam looked over my mother’s delicate form, and his face softened very, very marginally when he replied, “She will be safe with me.”
Of all the lies….
I made the short distance over to my sister and knelt in front of her. “Anika. Don’t do this.”
And when her eyes met mine, a serene smile of acceptance spread across her lips as she uttered low enough only for me to hear, “Finally doing my part. Sharing the load. I told you I can heft some weight.”
Jesus. She thought she was helping me by sacrificing herself to this evil shithead.
I never wanted this. “Not like this.”
“Hey.” Obviously sensing my distress, she put her hand to my cheek and reassured, “Everything’s going to be fine. Just—” She seemed to hesitate a moment. “—no matter what happens,” she whispered, “don’t call him.”
I barely heard what she said through the blood rushing through my ears.
“Anika,” I called when she stood and walked over to the man who claimed her, leaving a small gap between them.
“I would like to talk terms.” She sounded so confident, so unlike herself, that a solid frown was pulled from me.
And Roam’s eyes swept over her a moment before his lip twitched. “Good girl. Smart.”
“I will spend some time with you, but I’m not a dog. I won’t be leashed or petted or played with without my permission. You will not touch me unless I allow it.”
Roam looked her over appreciatively, and it took everything I had not to fly kick him in the face. He returned a controlled, “Likewise.”
Anika raised her chin and looked down her nose at him. “And I won’t allow it. So, whatever plan you have for me, I can tell you right now that you will be sorely disappointed.”
But Roam wasn’t deterred. “Oh no. I’m already very happy with this transaction.” He watched her closely before ordering, “Get dressed into something nice. I’m taking you out to eat.”
“I’m not hungry,” was her immediate response, to which Roam looked down at her overly lean body and uttered an unkind, “Yeah, well, you look it.”
Asshole.
Her cheeks flushed, and her lips parted in what I could only guess was minor outrage before her mouth snapped shut and she all but stomped out of the room, Roam’s eyes followed her. When she was gone, he waited a moment before he turned to me and said, “See? Easy. I get her. You get work. Everybody’s happy.”
He spoke about my sister like she was an object. As if she was a car he’d bartered for and bought. It grated on my every nerve. I vowed, “You touch her and I’ll kill you.”
But Roam, the cocky fuck, uttered a bored, “Yeah, I know you want to believe that, but the truth is, if I touch her, you won’t do shit. Because if I do touch her—” His eyes narrowed dangerously. “—she’ll have begged me for it.”
Anger burned a hole in my chest, and I rushed him. “You piece of shit.” My father stood lightning-fast, wrapping his arms around me, whispering words of assurance as I struggled in his hold and thundered, “Keep your paws off my sister!”
His lips tipped up in the corners, but one could hardly call it a smile. It was slimy and arrogant and enraging. I struggled in my father’s hold, and when I managed to shrug him off, Roam’s dark gaze dared me to rush him. It took a willpower I didn’t know I had to force my feet to stay put.
I don’t know how long we stood there, staring holes into each other, but I got the distinct feeling that whatever Roam was playing at, he was quietly reaching his goal. And when Anika returned wearing a modest black dress with long sleeves
and a hem that came to just above her knees, she took one look at the tense circle we had formed and made her way over to our mom. Anika embraced her as Mother whispered words of apprehension, and I watched my sister grimace at whatever our mom was telling her. She then walked into our father’s hold and spoke only for his ears. He nodded, and then she was walking toward me, wearing a sad smile.
She stepped into my arms, and I hugged her like never before, my eyes never leaving the smirking sociopath. Having spent a great portion of my life protecting my sister, this was perhaps the first time in my life that I was actually frightened for her. She was going to be alone with this animal with no guard, no shield, no sword. Just her pretty self and this beast. And it fucked with my head.
“Call me. I don’t care if all he does is look at you wrong; you call me,” I whispered into her ear, and she squeezed me.
“Promise me you won’t call him” was all she returned, and I didn’t have to ask who she was talking about. I sensed something bigger happening there, but now was not the time.
“I can’t do that.”
“Let’s go,” Roam uttered, stopping behind Anika, waiting impatiently for her to move.
Anika straightened, but she kept her eyes on me, twisting her body to maintain eye contact. “Don’t call him, Vik.”
I would not promise anything. Not when it came to her safety.
At the door, Roam followed Anika through before turning, winking and stating with blatant undertone, “Don’t wait up.”
It took everything I had not to head down to my room, pull out my piece, and shoot him right between the eyes.
My anger had me jumping out of my skin. Fuck. I wanted to kill him, and I would have if he wasn’t the sole reason I was getting myself out of a very sticky situation.
But at what cost?
From the window, I watched Roam get the door for Anika, and once she slipped into his black, futuristic-looking Mercedes Benz, my gut sank with the weight of a boulder. He got in, the car started, and my breathing got heavy. They took off, and my throat tightened.
She was gone. I couldn’t protect her.
My mother wept, and I regained focus. I wished I hadn’t when I turned to face her. Her misery cut me all over. Even more so when she whispered a broken, “What have you done?”