Vik (Shot Callers 2)

But Lush curled her fingers around the white tag, twisted to face him, and put on a completely unbelievable shy girl routine, dipping her chin and shaking her head submissively. “Not even close,” she murmured, and my heels brought me near enough to do what I wanted.

I reached out, wrapped my fingers into her hair, and tugged. Hard.

Lush squealed, reaching up in an attempt to pry my hands off her. Vik blinked, and then he was off his chair with a disbelieving “Nas! What the fuck?”

But I was raging, and because of this, I spoke directly into her ear. “You are either a deaf motherfucker or you are just plain stupid. I have yet to decide.”

Another hard tug and Lush was brought to her knees with a shriek that had people turning to look at us. “Let go of me, you heifer!”

Vik reached for my hands, his fingers stumbling over mine. “Jesus, Nas! Let go!”

Unblinking, my fingers tightened in her hair as I bent down and uttered, “I warned you. You didn’t listen. Now I’m gonna fuck you up, bitch.”

“Help!” she cried, and Lev came rushing over from the opposite side of the club.

“Nastasia,” he tried to talk sense into me with a calm hand to my arm. “Let her go.”

“No,” I spoke through gritted teeth.

“Nas,” Vik growled. “People are getting their phones out. Let her the fuck go.”

And because I was hurting, I grated out, “Screw you.”

But he was deft with his fingers, and the second my hand came loose, I cried out, “No!” reaching for the panting bitch once more.

Lush shuffled backward with fear in her eyes and cried out, “You psycho bitch!”

Oh, honey. You have no idea.

I went to rush her but was turned upside down when I was promptly thrown over a hard shoulder. That shoulder dug into my stomach so hard it hurt. I bit out, “Let me go!”

Vik growled, “You need to calm the fuck down,” as he strode down the hall, opened a door, and walked inside the dark space. The familiar smell of cleaning supplies told me we were in the janitor’s closet. The moment he closed the door behind us, a light turned on, and I was set on my feet. My knees shook, and when his eyes flashed on me, he barked, “So, what? How does this work? You’re allowed to go to lunch with your ex-fiancé, the man you once left me for, and I’m not even allowed to talk to another woman. Is that it?”

My heart beat so fast it felt like a hummingbird in my chest.

“Talk,” Vik demanded, but I didn’t have the words, only raw emotion.

I was sick of this.

I hated it.

Why did it have to be like this?

Heartsick, I lied. I lied so hard. “You know what, Vik? I don’t care. Okay? I don’t care anymore. You see who you want to see, talk to whoever the hell you want to.” My heart stuttered as I said the words, “Fuck whoever you want to fuck. I don’t care.”

But I did.

Oh God, I did. And it broke me on the inside.

Vik’s lip curled. “You don’t care?”

“No,” I tried to say as adamantly as I could, but my voice shook.

He paused. A whole minute of silence went by, the space around us being filled with only my rough panting. Until he asked coolly, “Then why are you crying?”

What?

Was I?

I swiped at my cheek.

Oh shit. I was.

Tears fell from my eyes. They did nothing to break through the anger we aimed at one another, a smoking gun of animosity.

He stalked toward me. “Is that it?” I walked backward until I hit the cold wall. Still, he advanced, his face contorted with rage. “We done?”

No, we weren’t done. We were hurting, and because of that, I spoke through gritted teeth, and my voice croaked, “Screw you.”

“Screw me?” When he came close enough for me to breathe in the heady scent of his cologne, I swallowed hard, and his eyes went to my throat as he pressed the length of his body into mine, reaching up to grip my chin. “No, baby. Screw you.”

Lightning fast, I was spun around and pulled back into him, his growing erection pressed into my ass, and I wept quietly, needing him so badly. Needing to feel connected to him.

He felt what I was feeling. I knew he was, because when he nudged my knees apart and reached between my legs to palm my mound, I threw my head back against his shoulder with hitching breaths, and he sighed lightly, rubbing my pussy through my lace panties. “You don’t get to talk to me like that. You remember the rules, kiska?” I did, and my core pulsed. “If you’re angry, you don’t get to take it out on me, unless…?”

I refused to give him the satisfaction.