Vik (Shot Callers 2)

Lush knew what I was doing. It was clear that as much as she didn’t like me, I did not like her.

“Wait.” I snapped my fingers. “They call you…” I pretended to struggle. “Big, or thick or something, right?”

Her eyes narrowed on me, and she spoke through gritted teeth, “Lush.”

I feigned ignorance. “Right, yes. Lush. That’s it.” I tilted my head in thought. “It’s weird though. When I looked over your resume”—her eyes widened, and she swallowed hard, her gaze begging me to stop playing—“I could have sworn your name was Martha.”

The laughter that erupted around me was deafening, and I watched Lush die a silent death.

Yeah, bitch. I can play too.

Satisfied that the disposable dancer now knew I wasn’t someone you fucked with, I watched her cheeks flame and kept my stoic gaze on her. “You know, when you work in close proximity to people, you really shouldn’t go out of your way to piss them off.”

What had she said?

Oh yes.

I repeated her words mockingly. “But… what do I know?” My eyes darkened dangerously. “It’s not like I’ve got any actual pull.”

The dancer next to Lush reached out and shook her shoulder as she laughed, and Lush glowered at her, letting out a caustic, “Don’t touch me, bitch.”

Another round of hooting laughter sounded, and I took my leave. Just before I left, I heard one of the girls call out to Lush, “I told you. Didn’t I tell her? I told her not to fuck with that woman.”

Then another. “Girl, you’re on her radar now.”

And finally, “You’re walking on thin ice, Martha.”

More laughter sounded, and I left it at that, knowing the girls would rib her ’til it hurt.

Sasha taught me how to fire a gun when I was fourteen. Lev bought me a switchblade and showed me the most efficient way to do the most damage with as little force. Vik trained me self-defense and boxing so I could take care of myself when he couldn’t. I was no shrinking violet, and I sure as shit wasn’t scared of this skank.

I might not have been brought up on the streets, but I was raised by wolves, and our pack thrived on the taste of blood. She was lucky I had only nipped in caution rather than rip her pretty little throat out.

Now, as I watched Fawn practically bounce on the spot in excitement as she spoke with Vik, it was about all I could handle. When she put both her hands on his arm and leaned in, laughing at something he said, something clicked inside my head.

I was a normally sane woman.

Rounding the bar, I threw the flap open hard and heard Anika say, “Nas, where are you going?”

Chessie chuckled and let out a singsonged, “Uh oh. Fawn’s in trouble.”

I barely heard Birdie over the music. “Nastasia, you be kind. She doesn’t know any better.”

Sure, she didn’t know any better. But she would.

Yeah. I was a decent person, but there was one exception to the rule.

I did my best to quell the beast that always seemed to take over whenever Vik was within arm’s distance of another woman and approached with a serene smile on my face. The young woman in the doe outfit smiled widely as I approached. She held her tray to her chest, and the way it made her tits pop was impressive.

“Hey,” I said good-naturedly, trying not to scowl at how cute the deer-like ears looked on her. “How do you think you’re doing tonight?”

Fawn responded with a light bounce. “I think I’m doing all right.” She looked up at Vik, and the want in her eyes was not missed by anyone. Her lashes fluttered. “Am I doing okay, Vik?”

No matter what he wanted you to believe, Viktor Nikulin was not a moron. He knew exactly why I was standing there, what had drawn me near. He knew me well enough to know that my eye was twitching and why. And because Vik was smarter than he made out, he did not poke the bear.

Dipping his chin, he hid a sly smile, then lifted his face, which now wore a well-practiced, passive expression. “You’re doing okay, kid.”

Kid.

Beautiful.

My mind blew a chef’s kiss.

I bit the inside of my cheeks to hide my smile of satisfaction. The way her face fell told me she didn’t need that additional cruel taunt. She got the point; she got it real quick.

“Is he bothering you, Fawn?” And because I was feeling extra spicy, I spun on Vik and narrowed my eyes dangerously in warning. “You’re not getting paid to flirt with the waitstaff, Viktor.”

He leaned his hip against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest, his muscly biceps flexing deliciously.

The way he looked at me, his hooded gaze lowering appreciatively to my cleavage, had me feeling bold. The black teddy, thigh-high stockings combo was suddenly a new favorite. It was definitely going into the regular rotation.