Vik (Shot Callers 2)

“About the other night…”

Good God. Let’s not.

I twisted to look at him and blinked innocently. “Was there a problem?”

And when his gaze trailed the length of my body, all the way down to my toes, his full lips seemed to pout a little as he shook his head sluggishly and uttered, “No problem.”

He kept his heavy gaze on me as though he couldn’t figure me out, and I offered him a single nod. “Good.”

Later on, as we were seated around the dining table, I lifted my plate as Doroteya piled on kotleti, patties made up of ground meat with minced onion, then coated in breadcrumbs and shallow fried. Anika added some mashed potato and salad, and I grinned happily. It had been so long since I’d eaten like this. It reminded me of home before our household faced the devastation my mother wrought.

It was funny that I still had good memories of my mother, when I’d seen the absolute worst of her. But I suppose that was how a child’s mind coped with some really heavy shit. The idea that she still managed to get inside my head made me feel at my weakest. But there she was, mostly when I least expected her to penetrate my mind, like the sword of Damocles dangling over my head.

My family had never truly recovered. We never even spoke her name.

So, when I peered over at Doroteya and watched her go about her motherly ministrations, clucking about, feeding her family as though it was the most important job there was, it simultaneously made my heart swell and tighten.

This family was more than just convenient friends. They were a beacon of hope when I had none. I was treated like an equal member, which was probably why they had no issues speaking freely in front of me.

Yuri glanced across the table at Anika and asked, “New clothes?”

Anika peered down at herself a moment before shaking her head. “Old ones I haven’t worn in a while.” She picked at her food. “The others are too big at the moment.”

That wasn’t surprising. The amount of weight she’d lost was damn near alarming.

Anika’s aunt, Ksenia, looked at her with a measuring eye. “Eat, my flower.” When Anika stiffened, Ksenia went on, and what she said sounded oddly specific. “No man will want you looking like a wilted rose. And we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

Vik glared at his aunt. “She doesn’t need a man. She needs to focus on herself.”

Anika smiled in gratitude, and Vik winked at her.

Ksenia peered at him then. “Perhaps you should focus on yourself as well, Viktor.” Her mouth tightened into a thin line. “After all, with all the time you spend out of this house, you’d think you’d have more to show for it.”

Whoa.

The easy ambiance at the table changed instantly.

Uh, rude.

When I chanced a glance, I found Yuri and Doroteya looking at each other, but neither said a word.

Did any of these people know how hard Vik worked? Did they have any idea how much time he sacrificed to earn some cash and look after himself? He was out there getting beaten bloody, and she had the nerve to criticize?

No, ma’am. Not on my watch.

“I think Vik’s doing just fine,” I muttered, sitting tall. I stared unblinking at Ksenia.

“Nas,” Vik uttered in caution, but his aunt’s brow rose.

She seemed amused at my comment. “Really, Nastasia?”

Did I stutter?

My eyes narrowed on her. “Yes, I do.”

“So, you believe a man at his age, living at home, with no prospects or savings, is doing just fine, yes?” she queried curiously.

The hairs on my neck stood. She sounded just like my mother.

“Nas, stop,” Vik uttered sharply, but I barely heard him at all.

You know what? No.

What kind of person would I be if I sat there and said nothing?

Not one worthy of him.

I thought to stick up for him. I had no idea what chaos I was about to unravel when I scoffed. “I’d hardly call seventy grand no savings.”

The entire table went silent, and when Yuri placed his fork down, the soft clink sounded awfully loud as he twisted to face his son. The hush seemed to thicken by the second, and when Vik lifted his head heavenward, I didn’t know what I’d done, but I felt it wasn’t good.

It was one of those moments where you knew something was said, possibly too much, but you couldn’t figure out what.

Another pass of the table.

They were staring. All of them. But not a single gaze rested on me.

All eyes were on Vik, and they were not happy.

There was a mixture of emotions. His mother was clearly confused. Anika appeared stunned. Ksenia looked pissed. But it was his father’s expression that made my heart skip a beat.

He looked betrayed.

Oh no.

My heart beat out of time, and as the arguing began, I sank deeper into my chair, knowing that whatever pandemonium was about to unleash was my fault.