Vik by Belle Aurora

14

Vik

Fucking hell.This could not be happening.

I worked my ass off. I worked around everyone and everything to deliver while still maintaining some of what was mine, and I couldn’t get ahead. It wasn’t enough.

Hell, I don’t know why I was surprised.

It was never going to be enough so long as the work I did was by the book.

My hand came up to my brow. I rubbed absently at it, my knee bouncing rapidly under the table. “What does this mean?”

The stern, unsympathetic woman seemed perturbed by the question. “I have explained this to you, Mr. Nikulin.” She shot a mild, unbothered stare to my mother and father, and it took everything I had not to reach across the table and demand she pay for the disrespect. Instead, I clenched my jaw tightly and listened carefully. “Yes, you have made payments, but the amount we have stipulated versus what you have offered is not sufficient.”

Was she fucking stupid? Did she not hear me?

It was my turn to glare at her. I asked slowly, once more in death-like calm, “What does this mean?”

Her red lips pursed. She placed her hands carefully on the desk, one folded over the other in poise, and said, “It means you have until the end of next month.”

The end of next month?

She couldn’t be serious.

“That’s—” I did the math in my head. “—forty-two days away.” Her expression remained unchanged, and I shuffled on my seat before I leaned in, looked her dead in the eyes, and rumbled, “You’re telling me I have forty-something days to get the money.”

Without hesitation, she responded, “Yes.”

Yeah. That wasn’t going to happen.

Why did I get the feeling she was enjoying this?

Jesus Christ.

How the fuck was I supposed to get the money in that time? I’d have better luck winning the lottery.

With a light sigh, I nodded, then stood. “No problem. We’ll have it.”

And as I held out my hand to help my mother up, she uttered, “Viktor, I don’t think we—”

No. Not now. Not in front of her.

I cut her off with a firm, “It’s fine, Ma.”

My father walked in stoic silence until we were about halfway home. And then he cracked under the pressure.

“Yoy.” He crumbled, and he covered his face with shaking hands as he muttered a heavy-sounding, “O bozhe moy.”

And it broke my fucking heart.

I reached out and placed my hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay.”

My father shook his head and murmured weakly, “Not okay. Nothing is okay. This is very bad, Viktor.” His voice trembled as he closed his eyes and prayed in silence.

My entire life, my father was my rock. He may have done some questionable things, but he was a good man who cared for his family and simply wanted the best for them.

Now, listening to the fear radiate off of him… nothing hurt quite so much.

“Pops, stop.” I did my best to reassure him. “Everything will be okay.”

I noticed my mother was awfully quiet, and as I peered into my rearview mirror, my chest ached when I saw her blinking away tears.

Oh, fuck no.

“Hey,” I called back to her. Her lashes glistened as she met my eyes, and I uttered, “This is nothing. A hiccup.” But my mom did not look convinced. On all that was holy, I vowed, “I’m gonna take care of this. Everything will be fine.”

We continued to drive on in silence, and when I pulled up into the driveway of my childhood home, I let them out. That was when Mom noticed I wasn’t following and said, “Where do you go? Come inside. I’ll make you something for eat.”

No shit. I had the best mom. She deserved better.

I owed her. I owed them both.

“I can’t,” I said quietly, then explained, “I gotta see a guy about a job.”

And when Mom looked to my pops, I could see they wanted to protest. But they couldn’t. We needed this.

“Byt' ostorozhnym,” was my father’s gentle caution.

Be careful.

“I will.” And because I knew my mother, which meant I knew her worry would consume her, I called out of the window, “Hey, Ma. You know, I was thinking. It’s been a while since you made medovik.”

Immediately, her face lit up. “You want me to make?”

No. I didn’t even like it that much. The cake was sickly sweet, but it was time-consuming, and it would help her focus on something other than the burden.

“Yeah.”

A small smile tilted her lips, and she promised, “I do it right now, and you can have some before you sleep.”

“Perfect.” I watched her walk away before calling after her, “Thanks, Ma.”

My father stood by the passenger side of my car with his hands in his pockets. His lips pursed, and his expression turned despondent as he let out a low, “You are a good man, my son.”

Was I?

I wasn’t so sure.

“I’ll see you later, Pops.” I put the car into reverse, and as I backed out of the drive, I warned, “Don’t eat all my cake.”

My father chuckled, and I grinned in return, because neither of us cared for it.

* * *

By the time,I got there, I was half mad with apprehension.

I needed to fix this. I needed to do it quick. And I only knew of one man who might be able to point me in the right direction.

So when I pulled up, stepped out of my car, and approached the front door, I raised my hand to knock and stilled when it swung open.

Ada greeted my frowning face with a serene smile. “I saw you through the window, Mr. Vik. Please, come in.” I entered, and she added, “He’s in his office.”

“Thanks, Ada.”

I strode down the hall toward Sasha’s office and knocked. He sounded distracted when he gave his permission to enter, and I went in. Without a word, I sat in the guest seat directly across from him and waited for his attention. He looked at me, and his brow rose at the sight of me. I guess I wasn’t hiding my emotions all too well.

“Viktor. You look like shit.”

Nice. My brow bunched, and I uttered a light, “Fuck you.”

Sasha’s lip twitched before he asked, “What’s up?”

Well, shit. There was no easy way to ask this. He would expect an explanation when the only one I had to give was nobody’s business. “Look, I didn’t want it to come to this, but I know you still have contacts amongst the firms, and—” I delayed a moment. “—I need a job.” Sasha’s brow lowered as I went on. “Fast. Messy. High paying.” In case he didn’t get what I was saying, I ran a hand down my face and added a strained, “You got a hook-up?”

Sasha remained quiet a long while, and when he spoke, he said all the things I hoped he wouldn’t. “How much do you need, brother? I’ll go to the bank first thing and sort you out.” But I was already shaking my head, and when he asked, “What kind of trouble are you in, Vik?” I let out a caustic laugh.

The urge to bark out a few choice expletives was there on the tip of my tongue, but I took a deep breath and quelled the impulse, looking around his office before I exhaled slowly and said, “I need money, but I’m not taking yours.” Just as he opened his mouth to argue, I cut him off with a wave of my hand. “Nonnegotiable. If you can help me out by giving me a name, I would appreciate it, but this is a mess I need to take care of myself, and man-to-man, I hope you can respect that.”

For a moment, he looked to be at war with himself, but after some thought, he opened his drawer, reached into it, and pulled out a business card. With a light sigh, he turned the card over, took his pen, and began to write on it as he spoke. “There is one outfit. Newish. Reckless. The kind of psychos who run big and hard, settle scores, and shoot before they speak. They have a reputation for being wild, because… well, they are.” He continued to jot down what I needed. “The guy in charge is Roam.”

Roam.

Never heard of him.

Sasha held the card out to me between two fingers, and just when I stretched for it, he pulled out of reach. “There are other ways.”

No, there weren’t. I tried. I really did. This was my last shot.

My stare must have conveyed my stance, and when he realized I wasn’t going to budge, he offered the card once more. Once it was in my grasp, I turned it over and saw Sasha had written the name Roam and a phone number on it. Nothing more.

“Who are these guys?”

And when Sasha replied, “The Disciples,” my head snapped up.

Excuse the fuck out of me?

Eyes wide, I wasn’t sure I heard him correctly. “The same guys who set fire to that house?”

I didn’t need to elaborate. It was a huge story. Made the news for months. Someone had to have seen something. Cops were looking for witnesses, but no one was willing to identify the men who went around wearing their intricate skull masks and the skull-painted cronies. Their weapon choices were barbaric. These guys were fucking animals.

“Same guys” was all he offered.

Right. I didn’t know how I felt about working with the same fiends who barbecued a priest in his home in the middle of the night. But, for all I knew, he deserved it.

So, I guess that only left one question. “They pay well?”

The only thing Sasha said to that was “Talk to Roam.”

Okay.

With that, I stood and moved to exit, only pausing at the door to twist back and say, “I’d appreciate if this didn’t get out.”

Sasha’s golden eyes searched me. I didn’t know what he was looking for, but when he found it, his lips thinned, and he muttered, “You can talk to me. You know that, right?”

“Sure.”

I don’t know why I lied. I guess sometimes it was easier than the truth.

Sasha gave me another onceover before turning back to his computer. “Watch your back out there, brother,” he warned, and I don’t know why, but I felt he might have underplayed the danger I was putting myself in.

But what other options did I have?

Screw it.

For the right price, I’d dive head-first into a shark’s mouth.