Vik by Belle Aurora

22

Vik

The man sittingopposite me stared for a long moment, tapping a sharp finger on the arm of his chair, before he opened his desk drawer, took out something square, put it to the table, and pushed it toward me.

It didn’t take a genius to work out he was still pissed at me for declining a job a few nights back, but it couldn’t be helped. My sister needed me.

So, here I was, trying to make amends, because this guy was money, and I needed a lot of it.

I picked up the photo, studied it a second, and realized I recognized the man. He was Russian, old stock. A soldier under Cora’s father for Zakon, a firm that competed with Chaos in every which way. They were the sole reason Bratva tore the roles from us.

Bratva didn’t like attention, and unfortunately, Zakon lived for it.

Holding the photo between my fingers, I placed it back on the table and waited.

A moment later, Roam said, “You know him?”

“Not well.”

Roam nodded lightly as he uttered a straightforward, “He’s becoming a problem for me.”

Now that gave me pause.

Surely, he didn’t mean what I thought he meant. Because that was a big step up from robberies, intimidation, and recruitment.

I let out a careful laugh. “I’m not an assassin.”

But Roam simply picked up his glass of whisky and studied it. “You are whatever I want you to be.”

Sometimes, it was hard to keep my mouth shut. And this was one such time. “Listen, man. I know you’re pissed that I didn’t show, but—”

He cut me off. “Oh, no. I’m not angry. I’m simply extending a courtesy.” Roam pushed out of his chair and walked the office. “I assumed you needed the money, and the price on this job seemed right.” His calculating eyes rested on me then, and a single brow rose. “Was I wrong?”

I hated myself for asking what I did. “How much?”

And he grinned, knowing he had me. “Enough to make a lot of your problems go away.” The grin fell, and his tone deepened some. “I’m just asking you to take care of one of mine.”

I looked away, out the window to the tops of the buildings that surrounded the one we were in, and spoke the words with a hint of reluctance. “I’ll need the address.”

The leader of The Disciples said, “Get it done. Tonight.”

The photograph lay face-up on the desk. I tried not to think about the guy, but it was impossible.

He had daughters. He had a wife. At this point, a couple of grandkids, at the very least. But he’d made his presence known to a person who had the means to eliminate a problem.

My jaw tightened.

If it wasn’t me, it would be someone else.

I took the photo and stood, shoving it into my pocket. With a jerk of his chin, Roam watched me leave, keeping a close eye on his investment. And regardless of how I felt about what I was doing, I didn’t exactly have the choice to stop.

It wasn’t personal. Business never was.

* * *

My conscience was eatingat me. It nibbled and bit until I felt ill, and it was a little over 6:00 p.m. when I sent the text.

Me: Can’t do it.

My stomach did a weird jerky, unsettled thing.

I knew I’d likely just lost my bucket of gold, but there were some things I wouldn’t do. Surprised the shit out of me. Ten years ago, I would have taken the job without pause if it were done in the name of Chaos.

I would have smiled in the fucker’s face as I pulled the trigger.

It seemed I’d changed.

An hour passed, and I received no response. I stood with a heavy sigh, showered, and got ready for work. I felt numb as I dressed, even more dazed as I helped Anika out of the car and walked us inside the club.

Bleeding Hearts was unsurprisingly busy.

From my space in the shadows by the bar, I spotted Lev sitting at the far corner of the room with Mina seated beside him. When he caught me looking, he lifted his drink in acknowledgement, and I lifted my chin. I turned to the bar in time to see my woman reach across the counter and gently touch some poor schleps face while pouting those delicious lips of hers his way.

My gut clenched tightly.

I hated that, but I understood it was part of the job.

My eyes narrowed when they settled on Anika. She looked frazzled, as though she couldn’t keep her mind on the job, and when she dropped the glass she was holding and it made a shrill shattering sound, she muttered, “Shit,” before crouching down to pick up the pieces. And I worried.

No matter what I did, I couldn’t get her to talk to me.

She was battling. She was losing. And it was tearing her apart, one day at a time.

“Yo, Chessie,” I called out, and the woman turned to me expectantly. I placed a bill on the counter. “Send her an espresso martini. Maybe it’ll help her study.”

Chessie smirked before she put her fingers on the counter, took the money, and made it up before walking it to the opposite end of the bar. As she placed it down, Cora’s head lifted, and Chessie leaned in, speaking to the infuriating woman who insisted on dragging her books out and studying right there at the bar. I couldn’t see what Chessie was saying, but when Cora’s face softened, she looked across the bar to me and lifted her drink to her lips, her eyes smiling. She took a small sip, then placed the glass down and blew me a kiss in thanks.

My head dipped in a short nod. And, as though I felt eyes on me, my gaze swept the bar. I found Nastasia watching me, her expression gentle and warm. And when her pouty lips elevated slowly, I held her gaze. Her smile widened. When she dipped her chin, shook her head, and got back to work, I tried not to think about how much I wanted to throw her over my shoulder and carry her back down to the janitor’s closet to relive that unbeatable fuck from a few weeks back.

My cock was still twitching from it.

The night was going off without a hitch, and as I sat back, watching the girls on stage move slowly, sensually, I hadn’t noticed the change in vibe until Anika called out an alarmed-sounding, “Vik.”

My actions gradual, I twisted back to see what she needed, and when I spotted all three of the girls still, work forgotten, looking wide-eyed and rigid across the room, my brows furrowed.

I followed their startled stares, and when I saw them, I balked.

Goddammit.

Standing steadily, my eyes swept the room.

They were everywhere.

The men dressed in black blocked every exit, their black-and-white-painted faces eerie and odd. With skulls half covering their faces, they were a daunting sight. Intimidating. And that was the exact moment I knew I fucked up.

The Disciples referred to their soldiers as the departed, and there was little doubt in my mind—they were here for me.

Their numbers grew, and I silently wondered how they had gotten in. Patrons watched on cautiously but curiously. The music went on, but the girls stopped dancing. There was a stillness in the room, and the departed simply stood their ground.

My eyes went to Lev, who rose from his seat, standing tall, as Mina pulled on his arm, her face pale in panic.

That was when Sasha arrived, standing in the large open doorway. He took one look at the men and ducked his head a moment before straightening and saying, “Boys.” He advanced, the picture of composure. “If you want a show, you gotta wait in line like everyone else.”

One of the departed stepped forward. “We’re not here for a show.” He looked to Sasha, lifted his arm, and pointed straight at me. “We’re here for our brother. He pledged himself tonight.” The man looked at me, then uttered a threatening, “And he’s gonna fulfil the obligation.”

I remained unaffected on the outside. I was glad nobody could see what was going on on the inside. Because it wasn’t good.

Sasha’s hand balled into a fist. He remained silent before offering, “As you can see, he has other obligations to attend to.”

The departed smiled, and the paint stretched and pulled in a way that had it cracking. “We’ve been given instructions not to leave unless he leaves with us.”

“And if he doesn’t go with?” The cool, calm way he spoke gave away nothing, but I knew my brother. It didn’t happen often, but Sasha was about to lose his shit.

The departed smirked. “Then, we party.”

Yeah. No.

Not happening.

This was my problem, and I was not going to have these thugs tear apart Bleeding Hearts to make a point.

“I’m coming,” I rumbled, and Sasha’s brows pinched together as he put his arm out to block me. His turbulent eyes met mine, and I clapped him on the shoulder, leaned in, and spoke just loud enough so only he could hear me. “You warned me. I didn’t listen. Dove in headfirst, and now I gotta dig myself out.”

He could have said a number of things then, but he chose to say nothing, and he would never know how much I appreciated that he didn’t take his chance to say he told me so. Meant a lot. Because no one felt as much like an ass as I did at that moment.

Feigning an easy smirk, I gripped his shoulder tight, squeezing, hoping it conveyed the humblest of apologies. Sasha was my friend. My brother. My comrade. I didn’t mean to bring this shit onto his doorstep. I planned on the exact opposite. But no matter how hard I tried to keep it simple, somehow, I always managed to fuck up.

I asked myself why the world was against me. And the answer stung.

The world didn’t give a flying fuck about a schmuck like me. The sad truth was, I did this. There was nobody else to blame for the position I’d put myself in. Right in the center of Roam’s upturned palm. At any moment, his fingers would curl, crushing me whole. It wasn’t a matter of if but when.

And so I turned and began to walk toward a fate I no longer wanted but had written myself from my own bleeding fingertips.

I stalled midstride when I heard Nas call out to me. “Vik.” She looked around to the men surrounding me, then back to my solemn face. Her eyes wide and alarmed, she let out a soft, “Don’t go.”

My baby was frightened. Words couldn’t express how shitty that made me feel. To cause her fear was the last thing I ever wanted.

The departed by my side chuckled darkly. “Don’t worry, Mami. We’ll bring your boy home safe and sound.”

And the inside of my mind turned black. My jaw steeled. A high-pitched whine lit the inside of my ears, and when I turned to the guy with the painted face, I wondered if Roam would miss the cocky fuck when I stuck a blade through his heart.

My hand rose and fisted as I struggled to keep my anger at bay. But I took in a shallow breath and spoke with deathly calm.

“You don’t talk to her.” A warning. His first and last.

The departed’s grin lowered but never left. It was obvious he didn’t give a shit. The guy looked to my woman and repeated himself. “Safe and sound, Mami.”

He spoke like a man protected. But Roam wasn’t here. My eyes wandered his face as I took in his hidden features and assigned him a new title.

Dead man walking.

When the head of the departed made a wide arc with his arm, they began to file out, and I filed out with them with zero reluctance. Out front was a car waiting, and the moment I stepped inside, another man in black handed me a Glock and a ski mask. I took them both without a second thought.

Not an hour later, the job was done.

Surrounded by psychopaths, they egged me on, urged me to pull the trigger, pressed me, yelled and shouted reinforcement that overlapped as I lifted my piece at the old, frightened man sitting in the armchair of his quiet home.

I held my gun with steady hands.

After a moment, the target’s shoulders relaxed as he awaited death.

“Fucking hell, what are you waiting for? Do it already,” came the enraged reaction from the departed who ran this group of feral dogs.

My arm lowered, and the calls ceased.

My decision was final.

I wasn’t doing this.

Without a care for my safety, I turned to look the leader in the eye and pressed my Glock into his hands, my position clear.

With fury in his hard gaze, he didn’t hesitate. He took my gun, lifted it, and shot the elderly man three times in the chest. And when his eyes met mine once more, he shook his head, almost disappointed. “He’s gonna kill you.”

There was no inflection in his tone, no emotion at all. It wasn’t a threat. It was a simple fact.

Roam was going to tear me apart.

An evening wasted. My social standing in disrepair. A madman breathing down my neck.

I didn’t know how much farther I had to fall to reach the bottom of this hole I had dug myself into.