Vik (Shot Callers Book 2)

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Vik (Shot Callers Book 2) Page 35

by Belle Aurora


  “Fucking hell,” muttered Roam, reaching out to turn on the water, letting it run as I continued to breathe shakily and spit the remnants of the bitterness from my mouth.

  Sweaty and weak, I reached out for the water using my shaking hands as a cup and bringing the cool water to my mouth. The first few times, I simply rinsed. The next few times, I took the cold water and splashed my face with it, hoping to wash away this awful feeling of helplessness that plagued me.

  I was so tired. I just wanted to go home.

  “Roam,” I all but pleaded with my head still hanging over the sink. “Please let me go.”

  But Roam was not moved. And when his fingers snaked around my arm, tightening on it hard enough to sting, he yanked, forcing me to look at him. Droplets of water trickled down my neck, into my shirt, and onto my chest.

  Roam’s furious gaze landed on me. “I would rather kill you than let you free.” My stomach turned, because I heard nothing but honesty in those harsh words. “If I don’t get what I want,” he vowed, “nobody gets what they want.”

  And I swallowed hard.

  His intensity grew, and the tightness on my arm increased enough to make me wince. “I don’t lose often, but when I do”—he grinned cruelly—“that’s when I set fire to pretty, delicate things and watch them burn until they’re nothing but embers and ash.”

  I knew it was only a threat, but he made it sound like a stone-cold fact.

  That grin fell and those midnight eyes locked me in place. “When I lose,” he uttered candidly, “I make sure everybody does.”

  My heart beat noticeably faster.

  I had to make sure I survived this. I had to, even if only to tell Vik he was a thoughtless prick for getting himself involved with this psychopath. If I made it out of this gorgeous but cold-feeling house, I would be doing just that.

  And because my survival instincts told me to say the words, I did, albeit feebly. “I’m very hungry.”

  It took a moment, but Roam’s expression lost some of its steam, but when it did, I felt like I’d won a small yet significant victory. He released my arm, and my entire body jolted as he passed me and opened the fridge to remove a block of cheese and some bread. And his actions had a hazardous thought blanketing my mind.

  How dangerous could this man be if something so simple as hunger could trigger a nurturing response from him?

  With a sigh, he worked in silence, and I watched him in silent curiosity as he made two grilled cheese sandwiches, cutting them in half and putting them on a plate before sliding it onto the island.

  To show gratitude was easy, and my previous thought spurred on a new one.

  Roam did not react well to attitude. He didn’t have a soft heart, so looking for sympathy wasn’t a smart move. But how would he respond to sincere gratefulness?

  I still had time to make this situation work for me, to put myself in a better position. All I could do was try.

  As Roam moved to pass me, I placed a gentle hand on his arm, and he stilled. I took the opportunity to utter a quietly sincere, “Thank you.”

  I hoped for a softening of some kind. A slight nod of acknowledgment. Perhaps a moment of mutual respect.

  Of all the reactions I expected, the one I got was not one I planned for.

  Roam’s eyes flashed, and he moved so fast I had no chance of stopping him. His hand snapped out quick as a flash, and he gripped my wrist with such strength that I thought he might break it in two. A terrified yelp left me, and my mouth rounded in surprise as those long fingers dug into my flesh, hard enough to make me flinch.

  Oh God.

  Fear spilled into me, a torrent of water filling every crevice.

  What have I done?

  Raw fury vibrated off of the beast in front of me. I just couldn’t understand why.

  “Never without my permission,” he spoke quietly, but the words were brimmed with rage. His jaw tightened, then ticked. “Don’t you ever fucking touch me without my permission.” He flung my hand off to the side, hard enough to make my entire body jostle, and the word echoed as he thundered, “Never!”

  My eyes widened. I took a shaky step back and swallowed hard as his rigid shoulders rose and fell with every harsh breath he took. I hoped to protect myself, but Roam looked manic. And I was the cause.

  Shit.

  Yeah. A mistake was made here. One I now knew better than to repeat.

  The second he stepped forward with the eyes of a shark who smelled blood, my entire body recoiled. My arms came up to cover my head as I panicked. My mouth opened, and the words shot out before I could stop them. “I’m hungry!”

  I heard him still midstep. The silence worked its way around my neck like a noose.

  Roam’s brows lowered, and my heart stuttered. His expression went from confused to raw, blazing fury in less than five seconds, and when he spoke in deathly quiet, I knew I’d blatantly shown him my hand. “Oh honey, who have you been talking to? Which one was it?”

  My stomach ached painfully.

  Oh, Jesus.

  There was no coming back from this. Whatever opportunity I had to secure my safety disappeared in an instant.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about” was my weedy response.

  He knew I was lying. I sounded like I was lying. I saw him struggle to keep it together. So, when the anger on his face turned impassive, my heartbeat slowed with the assumption that he managed to quell the wrath.

  I was wrong.

  Roam picked up my plate, spun around, reared back, and threw it at the wall as hard as he could, so hard the tendons in his neck tensed into thick ropes. My body went stiff as the sounds of porcelain shattering echoed in my ears. I lifted my hands to cover them as I continued to quiver in terror. His shoulders hard and unyielding, I watched his chest move up and down with each heavy breath, and what he said next had that fear of mine reaching new heights.

  With his back to me, he spoke slowly, precisely, and it gave me chills. “If I were you, I’d get the fuck upstairs right now, and I’d stay there. Unless you think you’re brave enough to stay, that is.”

  It was funny. He said the words calmly, almost serenely, but I could feel the crackle of electricity in the room as though a storm was coming.

  My feet started moving before my brain had the chance to register what just happened. When the sounds of glass shattering could be heard, rough grunts came from behind me and my feet moved faster, taking the stairs two at a time.

  I shouldn’t have cared, and right now, I didn’t, but I couldn’t help but wonder what happened to this man to make him the way he was.

  Nobody was born with Roam’s variety of suffering.

  On shaking legs, I hurried upstairs to his room and stared at the closet a long moment before another round of smashing and clattering came from downstairs. A muted roar sounded, and it startled me enough to propel me forward.

  And like the good pet I was, I closed the closet door behind me, caging myself.

  34

  Vik

  It had been thirty-six hours since Nastasia had been taken. Roam had been seen at his places of business, but never with a woman. The guy was always seen entering buildings but never leaving them. How the fuck he got out, I didn’t know, but he seemed to be everywhere all at once. The more time that passed, a more obvious conclusion set in. He likely held her at his home. Unfortunately, nobody knew where Roam resided. Or maybe they did and they weren’t stupid enough to give away his location.

  Either way, he was a ghost. A phantom. The fucking bogeyman.

  We talked strategy nonstop, and after Laredo’s involvement, Sasha suggested calling in favors and markers from the lives we’d long left behind, and although we had little to work with, it was enough to make a man sweat. With each additional associate who pledged their service to us, the more I felt we might just have the upper hand here. We were amassing an army that may not have matched his but had the ability to cause the man a fuck-ton of headaches should he so choose.
/>   No one could rule alone, and Roam’s territory, although rapidly growing, bordered many acquaintances that had the ability to fuck with him, even if only to irritate.

  And I just wanted my girl back.

  My head was a leaking sieve, oozing dejection from every small hole. I hadn’t slept. My every thought chafed and punished.

  Sitting on the edge of her bed in the dark, I called her cell constantly, and although it rang, it remained unanswered, clicking over to her voicemail. I left short messages, knowing she’d never get them, but needing to say my piece.

  “Hey, it’s Nas. Leave a message. I might get back to you. I might not. So make it interesting.”

  I could hear her sassy smile in that message. I could see the narrowed eyes and attitude begging for a bitch to test her. Jesus. Nas was smart, and feisty, and gave all of herself without asking for anything in return.

  My little hellcat, made up of fire and flame.

  I was a broken man without her.

  Was she scared? Frightened? Had she eaten? Slept? What were they doing to her?

  It drove me insane.

  Just hearing her voice made my chest ache. My throat tightened, but because we’d always dealt with our anger and grief with humor, a small smile tilted my lips as I rumbled, “You know, if you wanted my attention, there were other ways to get it. Getting yaself kidnapped? A bit much, even for you.”

  A few hours later. “That day at the pier… that ring, the heart-shaped one in the plastic ball….” I paused, afraid of revealing too much to a cellular device and not the woman herself. So, I tried again. “I don’t think there is a man alive who is more committed to you than I am. Have been since I was old enough to understand what I had in you.” I swallowed hard and closed my eyes. “And I want you back. Here, with me.”

  Then, at midnight, I lay in her bed, my head buried in her sweet scent. “What I’d give for another kiss.”

  It was close to dawn when I tried again. My eyes stuck, dry and itching from lack of rest. The next message I left was somber but determined. “I’m done waiting, baby. Things are gonna be different when you get back.”

  If you get back.

  The thought stuck, and a bitter taste entered my mouth.

  No. I wouldn’t think on it. I couldn’t.

  And when the first beams of sunlight broke through the blinds, I got up and showered in her bathroom, then dressed in her room. I drank my first cup of coffee in her kitchen, if only to feel closer to her.

  She was coming home today. No question. I guaranteed it. If he chose problems, I’d give him a big one. He had no idea who he was dealing with. He was playing a dangerous game, and my prize would be his head. I had no issues shedding blood for my woman. In fact, at this point, with the anger and wrath building in me with each passing moment, I fucking craved it.

  I dared him to try me. Today of all days.

  As I sat silently, staring into space, the front door opened, and Sasha walked through, looking pristine in his light-gray suit. Without a word, he took a mug, filled it with coffee, and approached slowly, searching my face with his tired eyes.

  He didn’t have to prompt me.

  I peered at my phone a moment before picking it up and putting it to my ear. It rang only twice before he answered.

  “Ah, Viktor,” Roam answered pleasantly. “I hope you weren’t too displeased with the fact that I missed your calls.” I could hear his fucking smile. “All—what was it—thirty-seven of them?”

  Don’t snap. Just let it go. Choke it down.

  I focused on my breathing. “I get it. You’re a busy man.”

  Roam’s pause was beautiful. My chill response had the effect I desired.

  “That I am,” was his curt reply. “Now, as you know, I’m busy entertaining a lovely brunette. Her fire is positively exceptional.” He spoke knowingly, “She fights so prettily, wouldn’t you say?”

  If he fucking touched her, there wouldn’t be a place on earth he’d be safe from me. If I found a single scratch on her, I’d follow this demon down into the depths of hell to taste his blood.

  My jaw tightened along with my grip on my phone. “Nastasia is… incomparable.”

  “Hmmm.” Roam made a sound deep in his chest. “I don’t know about that. But you do you.” And finally, the passive-aggressive civilities were over. “Now.” He sounded bored. “I suppose you’d like her back.”

  It was hard. I wanted to shout at the top of my lungs. Argue and rage until my face turned blue. But I didn’t bite. No. Instead, I simply stated, “I have an offer for you.”

  Roam seemed mildly surprised at my straightforward yet calm manner, and I could tell it ate at him to not get the reaction he wanted from me. Especially when he uttered an abrupt, “I’m all ears.”

  Oh no. I wasn’t going to give in this easily, not when he’d gone through the trouble of making a scene.

  “Bleeding Hearts. An hour.”

  And Roam laughed heartily until he ultimately said, “This is bold of you, Viktor. I said I liked you. Let’s not push it.”

  By the end of this day, I was sure he’d like me less. “This is nonnegotiable.”

  Roam sneered, “Everything is negotiable. When you have the power, every-goddamn-thing is flexible up until the moment I deem it isn’t. You feel me, boy? I told you once; I’ll tell you again. I’m your daddy. You are my ward. You came to me with nothing but debt and weak promises. I fulfilled my end of our bargain, and now I own you. Everything has a price. Every debt must be paid.”

  Oh, please. Enough with the fucking monologuing. Talk about your standard villain bullshit.

  Fuck me.

  I did not waver. “Bring my woman, and we’ll talk.”

  Now, Roam did not like being ordered around. It was common knowledge, but he further gave himself away when he began, “Listen here, you cocksucki—”

  I hung up, and when I felt Sasha’s hand on my shoulder, I breathed, but it was purely mechanical. No matter how deeply I inhaled, I felt no satisfaction and wouldn’t until Nastasia was back in my arms, giving me hell.

  Every fiber of my being told me he’d come, but, as predicted, he kept us waiting.

  I knew he would.

  Roam was all about upsetting the balance, about regaining control, so when he strolled into an empty Bleeding Hearts with a handful of goons at his back, no one was surprised.

  I waited for a glimpse of my woman but saw nothing, and when I trained my face on his, he took one look at my irate expression and grinned. “What? You didn’t actually think I’d bring her in before negotiations were handled, did you?”

  Fury bubbled far beneath my skin, a steady boil somewhere unknown but deep enough that I felt it in the center of my being, and for a single moment, the numbness that cloaked me was lifted far enough that the words slipped out before I could stop them. “If you touched her, I’ll kill you.”

  “Oh, please,” said the infuriatingly calm man as he glimpsed around the room. “I can see the appeal of her spirit, but she isn’t my type.” And when his cool, unaffected stare landed on me, his lips tilted when he added an evocative, “Now, your sister on the other hand….”

  Do not bite. It’s what he wants. Take it easy, pal. One hurdle at a time.

  Sasha’s jaw steeled, and I watched his fingers stretch, then ball into fists, as though he wanted to lay into him. I had a similar reaction myself, and as my heart pounded so hard I was sure everyone could count the timing of each beat, I took a steady breath and pushed my anger aside.

  I couldn’t be emotional, not when discussing business. I would not show my ass and give this dickwad the upper hand. This was too important to fuck up over a few snide words.

  Karma. I was a firm believer in that shit, and I took solace in knowing that one day all that Roam had done in life would come back to him threefold. And I sure as fuck hoped I was there to watch his collapse.

  What a beautiful sight that would be.

  After all, the higher they’re perched, th
e heavier they fall.

  Roam’s dark gaze went around the room, greeting people as he went. “Lev. Sasha. So good to see you. It’s a nice place you got here.” When he got to Philippe, he uttered, “Don’t know you.” Then Alessio, “Or you.” And then he stilled as Laredo stood, tilting his head slightly. “You, however, I vaguely remember.”

  Laredo surprised the man by stepping forward and offering his hand to him. Roam looked down at it a long moment before taking it and giving it a hard pump. Laredo said, “I knew Artem.”

  And the mention of Roam’s adopted father had his eyes flashing a single moment before he settled his emotions and sniffed a cool, “Yeah, well, so did half of New York.”

  Laredo offered him a faint smile. “You’ve taken up where he left off. I’m sure he’d be proud. After all, it’s what he prepared you for.”

  Unexpectedly, Roam expression turned hard. “What I was groomed for, you mean?”

  Laredo looked at the grown psychopath as though he was a troubled teen and shook his head. “No. I saw it. I saw the way he looked when he spoke of you. His pride was a difficult thing to miss. He loved you.”

  Roam let out a bitter laugh. “Artem loved money, glory, and power, and not a single thing more.”

  To that, I returned an uninterested, “Like father, like son.”

  My aim was true, and the shot met its mark.

  The slow grin that tipped his lips was deadly. “Are we going to do this or what?” He checked his watch. “I’m a very busy man. I got a city to run into the ground.”

  Okay. We were doing this.

  My stomach was tight. I didn’t have a lot, but I had enough that I felt mildly confident when I said, “I know a little about the work you run, and before you even go there, I’m making it clear—” I looked him dead in the eye. “—I am done.” His gaze hardened a notch, but I felt I needed to make it sink in. “No more rough work. No more surprise visits. No more claiming our women. No more debts or markers or obligations.” My tone lowered. “Done.”

 

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