Vik (Shot Callers 2)

Compared to the firms that once existed here in America, they were a different breed in Russia. Hardcore. I could tell Ksenia had seen some shit.

“Are you visiting?” I asked politely.

Her face fell, and she released my hands. “The move is permanent, I’m afraid. My husband died six months ago. My sons have all passed on. I have no grandchildren. With nothing to keep me in Rossiya, I decided to be closer to my sister.”

Well, shit. “I’m so sorry.” That was rough.

She forced a smile. “It’s okay. My family is here now, and although I don’t have much, I claim my sisters’ children as my own. It is time for a new beginning.” I’m sure she hadn’t meant it to be, but the last statement came out foreboding and dark. With an almost regal nod, she said, “I will leave you to visit with my niece.”

She left us to it and closing the door behind me, I approached cautiously.

Anika stood in the center of her room, and while she did her best to appear happy to see me, her smile fell short. She tugged at the long sleeves of her tee, pulling the material over her fingers, looking somewhat childlike.

“Hey,” I said almost shyly.

Whatever had been building up inside her broke like a dam. Her eyes filled with tears, and she lowered her face, a single teardrop trailing her nose and falling to the floor.

Damn. A short sigh escaped me. I waited too long.

I rushed over and used my arms to cocoon her in light and safety. “I’m so sorry, Ani. I shouldn’t have stayed away so long.”

“No, it’s not that.” She sniffled in my ear.

Her arms came around me, and when I felt her shaking, my protective instincts took over. I pulled back to search her face. It was pale and drawn. She looked frightened. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

The silence spoke volumes. It made the hair on the back of my neck stand.

“I can’t talk about it.” She wanted to. I could feel it. As if doubling down, Anika just shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. You can’t help me.”

What?

Who was this person?

I couldn’t help her?

Come now. Of course I could.

As my eyes passed over her whole self, I tutted quietly, gently using my thumb to wipe away her tears. My friend was a mess. “Yeah, I can. I know just the thing.”

She knew me well enough to not have expected anything else but what came out of my mouth.

“Yeah?” Anika endeavored to smile, but it shook.

“Definitely,” I told her. “First, we’re going to make a stop at the grocery store to get some supplies. Then we’re going to go out for a girl’s night. Dinner, drinks, dancing, all the good stuff. You need to pack a bag.” I smiled tenderly. “We’re having a sleepover.”

Still overly emotional, her voice broke as she attempted to hold it together. “I’d really like that.” I didn’t know what got her so broken up, but when she looked down at herself, she burst into tears again and very nearly wailed, “Dammit. I need to shower.”

I did not like this. It was so not Anika. She was graceful, calm, and collected. I needed to dig deeper but thought it best to butter her up with dinner and booze first. “Don’t worry about it. Just pack a bag and we’re gone. You can shower at mine. Better yet”—I used my biggest bargaining chip—“I’ll run you a bath and let the jets work out some of that tension.”

Poor Anika. She sniffled, then whined, “Okay.”

I helped her pack a duffle and walked her down the hall with an arm around her. When we made it to the dining room and the entire family was sitting down for lunch, I stilled at the sight of Vik.

My mouth opened, and out dashed, “What are you doing here?”

A single dark brow rose. “Eating lunch.”

Uh…

Right, right. We were at his parents’ house. That made sense.

My cheeks flushed, but Yuri Nikulin rose from the table, and I stepped into his fatherly embrace. Tall, extremely thin, and all sharp angles, the man’s hair was more salt than pepper these days. He smiled as he hugged me, pressing a soft kiss to my brow, then gently pinching my cheek, chuckling. “Cheeky girl.” He looked to his wife and stated, “She stays away too long.”

Doroteya nodded, parroting her husband, “Too long.”

Yuri tried to lead me to the table. “Come eat. You’re too small. Men will think you don’t know how to cook, and you will never marry.”

“I tell her that. She no listens to me,” Doroteya added quickly.

My expression turned sour.

I knew how to cook.

Some.

Vik grinned down at his plate, and I wanted to pick up a fork and stab him with it.

Ksenia scoffed. “She will have no problem finding a husband. She is pretty, smart, and she looks like a girl who knows the value of family.” She sipped at her wine before training her eyes on me and asking, “How are you brothers?”