It takes me seven minutes to brace myself for the inevitable altercation, forcing myself to breathe deeply and evenly to maintain my composure and avoid becoming the stereotypical dramatic female that Erik hates so much.
I’m irate that he’s here. He has absolutely no business being anywhere near me, and I’m kicking myself hard for not filing a restraining order the first time he found me and showed up at my shop to harass me.
That much I blame myself for, but I feel angry that men like him are even a problem for people like me. I’m just trying to live a normal life, and I’m losing my mental bandwidth to people like him.
“You and I need to have a fucking conversation,” he growls as soon as I step out of my car. I’m already shaking from the confrontation, and I feel a wave of immense misplaced guilt and shame as I brace for whatever bullshit accusation he’s about to hurl at me.
“Erik, leave me the fuck alone, or I’m calling the police,” I threaten. I know I could hold so much more over his head, but I don’t know what his mental state is like right now, and if I make him angry enough, I’m worried that he’ll try to hurt me, or worse.
“Why the fuck have you been avoiding me?!” he shouts, blocking the front door deliberately as I step cautiously up the walkway.
“Because I want nothing to do with you, asshole. I’m done working at the club. It’s been years! Let it go and go find some other blonde with big tits to prey on. I’m sure there are plenty of them around here,” I retaliate.
He’s shocked that I’m being so bold with him, and I’m not sure how to interpret his expression. I’m not sure if I feel particularly empowered by the fact that I have a child to protect or if such a thing is just making me more reactionary than usual.
Erik steps towards me, emphasizing the glaring height difference between us, when suddenly, his face turns completely white.
He immediately steps down and begins to walk across the grass to his car, and when I look behind me, I see Viktor walking menacingly toward the front steps.
I’m shocked to see him, but relief washes over me seeing the way that Erik reacted to seeing him. If that’s all it takes to keep Erik away from me, I might just have to consider keeping Viktor around.
Erik is a menace, but I know he’s capable of horrible things when he becomes emboldened. Having the threat of a brutal beatdown looming over his head might just deter him.
“Um, how do you know where I live?” I ask Viktor, trying not to come across as too much of a damsel in distress. Even though I’m grateful that he’s turned up in my time of need, I have no idea how he found me.
“I’m the landlord of your business. I have your contact information,” he replies pragmatically, and I blush hard, feeling completely stupid and out of my depth.
“Oh, sorry about that. Why are you here, though?” I ask. I still feel entitled to know what he’s up to.
“I’ve been worried about you. You’ve been so distant and hard to get ahold of lately,” he replies. “And who was that guy you were talking to? Another lover?”
I wrinkle my nose so hard that my eyes water. “Hell no.”
He shrugs. “You never know.”
I unlock the front door as we both enter the building. “I’m sorry, it’s just been crazy lately. I’m really not trying to avoid you,” I say, avoiding direct eye contact with him. There’s no way he wouldn’t be able to pick up that something was wrong if he saw into my soul like that. He’s way too observant.
“Is there anything I can do?” he asks, and I can feel myself growing anxious all over again at his sudden interrogation. Of course, he means well, but I can’t completely remove the fact that he might be a murderer out of my mind.
I pause, feeling the nerves and agitation bubbling to the surface. “How about you tell me what you were doing on the news a few days ago? Let’s start with that,” I say, opening my apartment door and allowing Viktor to follow me inside.
I’m embarrassed to let him see the way I live in such stark contrast to what he’s used to. I know he grew up poor in much worse conditions, but I can’t imagine it takes long for the brain to purge its ability to ignore aspects of survival that are less than palatable.
He owns an entire luxury apartment building. There’s no way he’s completely comfortable in a one-bedroom apartment from the 70’s on the bad side of town.
When we enter the apartment, I watch his expressions carefully as he scans the living room. He focuses particularly heavily on how cheap the front door feels, opening and closing it a few times and testing the locks. It would be endearing if it were any of his business how I live. Since it isn’t, I just feel encroached upon and judged.
“I don’t really know what you’re talking about,” he says coolly.
“You need to tell me if you killed that man,” I hiss as I close the door. I lock it behind him aggressively to indicate that I’m not afraid of him. I just want the truth.
“Are you actually going to hear me out?” he asks.
I pause, having not expected such a direct response. Would I excuse his behavior if I found the reason acceptable? This isn’t a position I’ve ever been put in by anybody, certainly never something I would have expected myself to be involved with. It feels like I can’t get away from the dark side of life no matter how hard I try.
My response is weak. “I might.”
Viktor seems to accept it, delving into the story almost immediately. “The man you saw on the news shot Nikolai. I know you’ve met Nikolai. He’s a timid kid who was pressured into taking a job he had no business doing because my right-hand man decided it would be a good teachable moment. It was a huge mistake, and Nikolai almost died because of it. Where I come from, you retaliate appropriately. I couldn’t let that person carry on knowing he’d hurt one of my men,” he replies.
I force myself to calm down for a moment and consider his words. I’m not brand new to the idea of gang violence or street warfare, but I have to ask myself if I would still be engaging with Viktor like this if I had known about it from the start. Perhaps I knew subconsciously and decided to throw caution to the wind. Now, it’s something I need to deal with headfirst.
“Why did he shoot Nikolai?” I ask.
“Nikolai was trying to collect a debt from him. He’d never done it before, and the person he was expecting to do business with wasn’t around. The new guy was a belligerent asshole and decided that the debt was cleared because he didn’t feel like paying it,” Viktor explains.
“Is Nikolai okay?” I ask. I think back to the shy, nearly invisible guy who walked into the meeting we had with all of the shop owners, and I can’t imagine him in a gunfight at all. I’d feel more comfortable sending Katherine to collect a debt than Nikolai.