Vik (Shot Callers 2)

I did. And none of it sat well with me.

Alessio was not a stupid man. So, when he said, “I don’t know what his circumstances are, but if he says he needs the money, I’m inclined to believe him,” it broke me. Because I didn’t know.

The timeline matched up. Anika was right. And my insides burned with the realization.

Vik wasn’t cheating on me. He’d been working. And I punished him for it by dumping his ass.

I felt ill. My breath left me in a whoosh.

I closed my eyes, breathed deep, and whispered, “Oh no.”

What have I done?

Instead of asking him about it, I assumed and judged and misread everything. All of that and he still looked after me, sleeping beside me, lending me his strength when I had none.

A sudden thought hit me.

Am I the villain in our story?

My eyes opened, and I blinked away the sting behind my lids. I rocked lightly and wrung my hands together, just needing to move. My voice was quiet. “I think I’ve made a huge mistake, Les.”

When I looked up at him, the expression he wore was one of concern. “Can I help?”

“No.” I huffed out an acidic laugh before running my cold hands down my face, resting them on my warm cheeks. Shame tore through me in red, hot waves. “No one can.”

My inner turmoil ate away at my sanity, and long after Alessio had taken us back to his house and I drove myself home, I sat alone in the dark and tried in vain to put the pieces of this puzzle together. But I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.

None of it made sense.

Feeling a little lost and rather alone, I needed clarity so, I went to Sasha’s, let myself in, and waltzed down to his office. He sat there, looking down at a document in his hand. I knocked lightly, and his brow furrowed as he lifted his head.

He looked tired. And, yes, I realized that whatever shitty way he was feeling was entirely his own fault, but he was still my brother.

I lifted my fingers in a light wave.

“Nastasia.” The small smile that lifted his mouth was almost sad. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Are you ever?” I very nearly scoffed.

“No.” His smile spread. “I suppose not.”

What followed was silence and a lot of it.

I wished to unload. I wanted to tell him a hundred things, about Philippe, about Vik, but one look at his weary face told me that today was not the day. And I was ever a merciful sister.

He spoke without emotion. “Are you just going to stand there all day, or are you going to yell at me like you planned to?”

A deep sadness flowed through me.

Was that what he thought of me? Was I really such a witch?

My brow lowered as I walked into the room, dropped my gaze, and let out an almost offended, “I wasn’t going to yell at you.”

“No?” Sasha chuckled roughly, but there was no humor in it. None. His sigh sounded defeated. “I think you may be the only one.”

Oh hell.

Nope. I did not like it. Not even a little. And suddenly, my legs were moving.

I don’t know why I did it. We were not the type of family. But I felt that I needed it almost as much as he did.

My feet carried me around to him, to the back of his chair, and he watched me with caution. When I stood directly behind him, I put my hands to his large shoulders and bent down, sliding my arms around him. He did not react. And, yes, it felt awkward, but I thought to combat the yucky feeling by closing my eyes and breathing in the oddly comforting woodsy scent of him.

I embraced my brother tightly, burying my nose into the dip of his shoulder, then uttered quietly, “Everything’s gonna be okay, Sash.” I finished on a squeeze.

It felt like forever, and just as I thought to release him, his hand came up to rest on my forearm. It was careful and light, as though he did not know what to do with the affection.

Lord. Something about that made the sadness inside me swell.

My brother may not have been a terribly good man, but he did the best he could with the life he was born into. He went from father figure, to mob boss, to club owner within a few hectic years. It had to have been difficult for him, like asking a predator to stop preying on the weak when it was all he ever knew.

It was almost cruel. After all, you wouldn’t ask a lion to turn vegan.

And, Lord, he tried. He tried so hard.

Sasha’s hand gently squeezed my arm, and he cleared his throat before he spoke. “You need something?”

“No.” I pulled away but let my hands linger on his shoulders.