Vik by Belle Aurora

12

Nastasia

Troubledby what occurred the day before, I found myself at my uncle’s door the very next morning. Nicolas let me in, and the moment Laredo took in my tired expression, he stood and opened his arms to me. I didn’t want to be that girl, but damn, I needed the comfort. And so, I stepped into his waiting arms and allowed myself to be held.

Last night, Vik found me in my room, sitting up in my bed, waiting, and he undressed easily. I pulled up the covers, and under he slipped. He held me all night, and my mother kept her distance. She usually did when Vik was around. Perhaps it was because he consumed me in every which way. When Vik was close, it was impossible to think of anything other than the man himself. He overrode my thoughts. A usually annoying peculiarity that just happened to come in handy the past few days. As per the current routine, I woke alone, but I woke rested.

“Is he here?” I asked my uncle quietly, and I didn’t need to elaborate. He pulled back to look down at me, and when he shook his head, I closed my eyes and uttered, “I didn’t know.” I blinked up at him. “He has to know that, right?”

Uncle Laredo’s brows pulled down. “Of course he does, sweet girl. Philippe doesn’t blame anyone for what happened more than he blames himself.” He shot me a sad smile. “It’s been a rough year for him.”

Well, that sure as shit didn’t make me feel any better.

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know.”

I stared, incredulous. “If you knew, would you tell me?”

My uncle smiled gently at my ability to see through his bullshit. “He wishes to be alone. To take some time to help his brother. I’ve allowed it.” Laredo cupped my cheek. “I protect my boys, sweetheart.”

My stomach twisted, because although he may not have meant it as a stab, it definitely felt like one toward Sasha. Worse than that, my brother deserved it.

Fair enough.

I half rolled my eyes. “What about the other one?”

My uncle’s smile lifted. “Now, he is in his room. You’re welcome to wake him up.”

With a quick kiss to his cheek, I move down the long hall, and when I got to his room, I opened the door just a sliver. The room was pitch-black and smelled of his aftershave. I called out quietly, “Alessio?” After all, he was a grown man, and he could’ve been doing grown man things in that room. I didn’t want to catch him unawares. “Les?”

No response.

Was he even in here?

I pushed the door a little, allowing some of the light from the hall to penetrate. Under the silken navy covers, the shape of him was clear, and when I was sure he was decent, I tiptoed into the room, stood by his bed, and smiled down at his scarred, sleeping face.

He looked so peaceful.

Oh well.

Spreading my wings, I threw my arms out at my sides and flew. My body connected with his. At the moment of impact, he doubled over in pain, pushing me off, and let out a long, wheezed, “Oh fuck, my nuts!”

While I rolled onto the free side of his bed, I rested my cheek on my upturned hand and said sweetly, “Good morning.”

Oh my. If looks could kill.

I laughed in complete silence.

Alessio glared at me with tired eyes before throwing his head back onto the pillow and groaning, “You bitch.” He cupped himself through the sheets. “Ah, my dick.”

Okay, so I did feel bad. Not enough to not taunt him though. “I’ll bet Cora would rub it better.”

“Nas,” he growled in warning, and I lifted both my hands in the air in apology. As he half panted, I watched his eyes narrow on me. “What are you doing here? It’s too fucking early.”

A scoff ripped out of my throat. “It’s 11:00 a.m., sir. Get your tight butt out of bed and take me out for coffee.”

“What?” he uttered, and his entire body stilled. His eyes darted around, and his lip curled. Cautiously, he enquired, “Like a date?”

“Ew.” I tasted sick in my mouth and visibly recoiled. “We’re cousins, dude.”

Alessio seemed a little offended at my disgust. “Twice removed. Through adoption. Not by blood.”

I couldn’t help the strained chuckle that escaped me as I drew out the question. “Wait. Are you offended? Do you want me to want to date you?”

“Jesus, no.” He glowered at me, and I wouldn’t have believed it if I didn’t see it, but his cheeks turned pink.

What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t mess with him a little?

“I can pretend, if you want me to,” I went on, my body shaking with merriment. “Hold your hand and all.”

“God.” Alessio ran a hand down his face. “You’re so tiring, woman.”

He sounded so drained, so very weary, that I decided to give him a break. I sat up against the headboard and pushed down the need to fuck with him some more. “Look. I’m sorry, okay? It’s just that everyone has some type of shit going on at the moment. Lev and Mina are busy doing…”

“Each other?” he offered, and I nodded.

“And Sasha is…” I paused.

“An asshole,” Alessio provided.

“Well, yeah.”

This was exactly why I hung out with Alessio. I was under no illusions about the person he was. He was cold, and hard, and he could be downright cruel. But still, he understood me.

“Cora is studying. Anika is around, but I don’t feel right piling my crap onto her. And Vik….”

My heart squeezed.

Our current sleeping situation hadn’t mended the invisible wall between us. Every so often, something funny would happen, or I would get frustrated about work or my brothers or life in general. Someone would piss me off, and I’d need to vent, or I’d experience something that I wanted to share. And there was only one person I wanted to share those things with.

I had lost count of the number of times I held my phone in my hand, writing out a text or had my finger hovering above his name. Just wanting to share myself with him like I had since we were teenagers.

The unfortunate fact was he wasn’t mine to call anymore.

It was rough.

Suddenly, after thirteen years, I didn’t know where I fit in. And it was a new experience.

Alessio looked at me a long minute. I felt his eyes on me, looking hard, searching for something. I didn’t know whether he found what he was looking for, but he sighed, then finally said, “All right, get up. We’ll get coffee and”—his lip curled as he said the dreaded word—“talk.”

He slipped out of bed, wearing nothing but gray boxer briefs, and as he dragged on his jeans, I stealthily took out my phone. He sprayed himself with deodorant before pulling on a navy long-sleeved tee. When he bent over to put on his shoes, I quickly snapped a pic of his butt and sent it to Cora. He stepped into the joining bathroom and began to brush his teeth as I got a text back.

Cora: Um… is that who I think it is?

Me: It is.

Cora: Why are you torturing me??? I thought you loved me! *crying face*

Cora: Also, FAP FAP FAP FAP FAP

I laughed out loud, and Alessio’s head peeked out of the bathroom, his mouth frothy and white with foaming toothpaste. He made a curious face but had the sense not to ask.

Me: Gotta go. We’re getting coffee. Talk later.

Cora: Talk me up, bitch. x

Me: Always. x

When we walked down the hall side by side, Alessio stopped into his father’s office to tell him where we were headed, and when Uncle Laredo looked between us, a tender smile graced his lips. “I like that. This is nice. You should spend some time together, with family.”

With the promise of bringing him a coffee upon our return, we got into Alessio’s black BMW M2, and he drove us to a nearby café. Once seated, I told him what I wanted, and he went to the counter to place the order. He returned with his cappuccino and my hazelnut latte, then went back to the counter a moment. When he placed a slice of chocolate cake in front of me, I glanced up at him, surprised.

His shoulder jerked lightly. “You look like you could use a little sweetness right now.”

A sluggish smile stretched my lips. If that wasn’t the nicest thing Alessio had ever said to me. “I’m starting to get what Cora sees in you.”

“Nas,” he moaned in irritation. “Please don’t start. I’m not in the mood.”

“I know I give you a lot of shit. That’s just what family does, Alessio.” I brought a crumb of cake up to my lips. “But I was being serious.” I rolled my eyes, as if saying it out loud pained me. “You’re a good guy.”

I saw the very moment he recognized my sincerity. He looked taken aback. When he cleared his throat and let out an unsure sounding, “Ah… thanks, I guess,” I found myself feeling something more than impartiality for this broken and scarred man.

“You’re welcome.”

A small bout of silence passed before Alessio shuffled on his chair and lifted his coffee to his lips, sipping. “I heard what happened yesterday.” Yeah, he would have. “That’s pretty fucked, even for a cold bastard like me.”

I nodded down at my cake. It was. And I didn’t know how to make it better.

He put down his cup. “I’m surprised everyone left in one piece.”

“They almost didn’t,” I revealed. “I thought Vik was going to rip Philippe’s head off and piss on it.”

Alessio frowned. “Nothing new there. They’ve been at each other’s throats for months.”

Years, really. But…

I went over what he said and how he said it. I heard something in that statement. “What do you mean ‘for months’?”

“They don’t get along. It’s gotta be difficult for ’em, you know, at the club.”

Uh, what now?

At the club?

Both of my brows rose, and I sputtered, “Excuse me?”

Alessio blew out a breath, looking mildly frustrated. “Aphrodite’s Kiss. Your ex-fiancé and your main squeeze, working together.” He shook his head at me, puzzled. “Any of this ringing a bell, princess?”

A chill went through me, and my entire body turned numb.

No. No, it sure as hell was not.

I spoke very slowly. “Vik’s been working at Aphrodite’s Kiss?”

My question brought on an instant change in his face. Alessio blinked at me, falling back in his seat. It took him a minute to say, “You didn’t know.”

Ding-ding-ding. Give the man a prize.

My mouth dry, I all but croaked, “How long?”

Alessio, knowing he said too much, just shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Alessio.” It was a plea, plain and simple.

His shoulders fell, and he dipped his head, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “Six or seven months.”

Okay. All right. Don’t freak out, Nas. Be cool.

But I did not feel cool. I felt barely composed. “And what does he do there?”

Alessio reached up to scratch at his neck, and the move told me he was uncomfortable telling me what he was about to. “Odd jobs. Mostly security. He’s a good door bitch.” He spoke soberly, and suddenly, what Philippe said to Vik the day before ran through my head on loop.

Get the fuck out of my way, you second-rate mall cop.

My gut twisted. I felt like I was imploding on myself, and I was pretty sure I knew the answer to the question I was about to ask. “What are his hours?”

“Nas…” Alessio attempted to be Switzerland. Neutral. “I don’t think I should be talking to you about this. Maybe you should talk to Vik.”

My brain snapped like a rubber band. I grated out, “Don’t you think I would if I could? He’s impossible. Every time I try to talk to him, he fights me on purpose, so one of two things happens. We either fight or fuck. I just want answers.”

Alessio took in a deep breath and spoke on an exhale. “He works Friday through Monday, two thirty ’til five.”

I was so confused. The bewildered word that left me sounded strained, even to my ears. “Why?”

“Think that’s pretty obvious, Nas,” Alessio answered with a cold laugh. “He needs the money.”

That was crazy. He had money.

As Vik’s girl, I was privy to most everything, his finances being one of those things. I’d seen the accounts myself. Hell, at the later stage of our relationship, I’d even do his banking for him, paying his bills while he slept with his head in my lap, a frown permanently etched on his face.

Vik did well for himself. At least, he had when we were together. Sure, he wasn’t Scrooge McDuck, diving into pits full of gold coins, but he had savings enough that I wasn’t worried about him paying his rent or missing payments on his car.

A terrible feeling twisted the pit of my stomach. It sat heavy, like a rock, until it overshadowed every other emotion striving to be heard.

My internal dialogue must’ve shown some, because when Alessio asked, “How much do you earn, Nas?” my head snapped up.

“I don’t….” I shook my head, confused by the question. “What?”

“How much do you earn?” he asked again.

I wasn’t 100 percent sure, but I thought it was close to the figure I gave. “Around seven and a half a month.”

“Okay.” Alessio got out his phone and got into the calculator. “That’s ninety grand a year.”

Yeah. That sounded about right.

Then he asked, “Do you know how much the average bartender earns in Jersey?”

No, I didn’t.

But he told me. “Anywhere between thirteen and seventeen dollars an hour, all right?”

What?

No way.

That sounded awfully low.

He went on. “I don’t know about you guys, but we pay around the sixteen mark. And if you’ve got a bartender earning sixteen bucks an hour for fifteen hours a week, do you know what their paycheck looks like?”

My stomach sank.

I had no clue.

“That’s two hundred and forty dollars a week. So, a little over a grand a month. About twelve and a half a year. Now, these are all just figures here. Plus tips, less taxes and life expenses, do you think a person can live off that alone? What about a single parent who needs to feed and clothe their kids? How about someone with health issues? Or the sole supporter of their family?”

I was beginning to get the point.

My tongue felt like sandpaper in my mouth, my reply full of regret. “No.”

Alessio began to nod in agreement. “Now, I’m not saying Vik earns so little, because I know he doesn’t, but every now and again, it’s good to take a look at what your employees are earning versus what the lucky sons of bitches like us earn. Because it’s crumbs, babe. I can tell you right now that Vik ain’t earning ninety grand a year to sling drinks and roster bar bitches on, you get me?”

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.

Ask the question.

He turned to face me, his bored blink and casual wave telling me to spill it.

Ask him.

“I was just wondering…”

Just ask. Say it.

Say ‘How much does Vik earn?’

“Yes,” Sasha prompted impatiently.

And although the question remained poised at the tip of my tongue, my stomach twisted with regret as I cleared my throat, shook my head and instead said, “I was wondering if you wanted to split dinner with me. I feel like Chinese but don’t want to eat alone.” He watched me guardedly, as though he knew that wasn’t what I was going to say originally. So, for good measure, I added, “Plus, I thought you could use the company.”

Coward.

My brother’s careful, slightly delayed response had me smiling softly. “Sure. I’d like that.”

As it turned out I could have used the company myself. Even if that company was Sasha.