Viktor stood very, very still, afraid if he moved, he might shatter. He’d seen children die. He’d watched them die. Children he’d felt responsible for, but nothing got to him the way this did. Blythe’s voice when she told her sisters about his leaving her. About their child. A daughter. He’d had a daughter and she was dead. Murdered by a drunken madwoman.
Bile rose. His legs turned to rubber. He went down on one knee right there at the top of the stairs. Everything said after that was merely a buzzing in his head. Inside his chest, his heart shattered. Her revelation had gutted him. Gutted him. His mind went from chaos to red. Rage rose, swift and terrible, a volcanic eruption imminent.
Rage was there to protect him, to keep him from shutting down completely. He knew that, but it didn’t help. Nothing helped. For a moment the world narrowed to a place of pain and suffering, where torture was physical, emotional and even sexual. Where he was helpless, a mere child trying to survive, trying to find a way for the younger boys and girls to survive. He’d done that at a great cost to all of them, but he hadn’t found a way to save his own child.
A girl. A daughter. Viktoria. He collapsed completely, sitting down hard, but even that didn’t bring him out of it. He was afraid he was going to vomit, and the pain in his throat, in his chest, behind his eyes was so bad he couldn’t breathe. There was no air. No way to find air. “This can’t be happening.” He whispered the plea to Reaper.
Reaper’s hand clamped on his shoulder hard, steadying him, or he might have gone all the way down. “We have to go.”
He stared up at his best friend without comprehension. Reaper got an arm around him and urged him up. Once his legs were under him, he went with Reaper through the hallway back to the master bedroom. He wasn’t certain he could manage getting through the window, so he just collapsed on the bed.
Reaper went down in a crouch in front of the man who had been an absolute rock his entire life. The man who had single-handedly saved seventeen children from certain death. He’d helped, but it had all been Czar’s brains, his plans, his calm and steady leadership. For one moment panic welled up. He hadn’t felt panic since he was a four-year-old child looking to the ten-year-old to save him.
Czar was the rock. The absolute rock all of them counted on. They were trained to lie with conviction. To con with ease. To seduce as an art. To stalk and kill without feeling. Czar taught them how not to do those things. How to channel rage and resentment, hatred and bitterness into something else. Something good.
Reaper took a breath and let it out. His job was always to watch over Czar whether the man liked it or not. He didn’t like it most times, and in the beginning they’d clashed a lot, but over time, Czar realized there was no stopping Reaper. He’d do what he thought best. What he thought best was keeping Czar alive.
“Let’s get you out of here,” he said softly, afraid Czar was in shock. His skin was almost gray beneath the dark tan from so many years out in the weather.
Viktor shook his head. “Can’t leave her again, Reaper. If I go now, I won’t come back, and I won’t survive without her.”
“You can come back.” Reaper tried to be reasonable. He wanted to throw Viktor over his shoulder and haul him out of there. Czar was too shaken to think reasonably. Any moment one of the women could come upstairs. They’d scream bloody murder and call the cops. He hadn’t liked the look of either sheriff. They hadn’t postured or blustered, and although they were aware they were outnumbered and surrounded, they hadn’t so much as flinched. Men like that weren’t easy to kill.
Viktor shook his head. It hurt to even move that much. He had to fight not to vomit. “If I leave now, I wouldn’t know how to approach her, how to ask her to take me back. How can she forgive me after the loss of our child? She’s been through so much. I had all of you, she had no one.”
Reaper shook his head. “She can’t blame you for what her bitch of a mother did.”
“I wasn’t there. I didn’t even know she was pregnant.” Viktor pushed a hand through his hair. “She didn’t send for me. She should have sent word to me. I would have come. I would have walked away from the assignment.” In a heartbeat, he would have rushed to her side. Had she just once told him she needed him, he would have dropped everything and gone to her, risking his life, risking the lives of everyone he cared for. For her. He would have done that without weighing the consequences, because she was Blythe – his everything. Where the hell were his birth brothers? Why hadn’t they told him?
“She didn’t even know who you were, Czar,” Reaper pointed out.
Viktor lifted his head and looked the man he called brother in the eye. “For her I risked everything, even my younger brothers’ lives. For her. We had a system to contact each other in an emergency. Sorbacov would have killed for that information. If he got it, he would have hunted every one of them down and killed them. You know he would have. Still, I left her the code. I needed to know she was safe. I gave her the priest’s code in case she needed to get word to me as well. I risked him, my brothers, all of you, just to make certain she was safe, and she didn’t use it.”
Reaper frowned and stroked his chin with his long fingers. “You know, Czar, it’s looking more and more as if she didn’t get that letter. She was genuinely shocked to see you, and she had no idea you were married. I was watching her face, watching her closely; she didn’t know.”
Viktor sucked in air to keep the room from spinning. When he inhaled, the scent of her, peaches and cream, slipped inside, deep into his lungs. She was everywhere in this room. The girly shit she liked was everywhere. He had always loved to watch her as she got ready for an outing. His favorite had been to lie on the bed and just drink her in. She was practical, but she surrounded herself with things women deemed necessary in their lives. Her hairbrush was ornate, a beautiful carved wooden handle, the bristles embedded in a thick rectangle. He’d chased her around the bedroom once threatening to spank her with it when she’d teased him unmercifully about the beard he’d worn back then.
His life was so fucked-up. How could he have made such a mess of the only thing that was going to keep him alive? That mattered to him? He was drowning, and it was Blythe who could give him the air he needed.
“I left the letter right in the middle of our bed.” Viktor smoothed the lacy comforter as if he could bring the letter back. Even if she hadn’t gotten the letter, why hadn’t one of his brothers told him what was going on? That didn’t make sense. None of this made sense.
“You heard what she told those women. After you shot her stepfather, her mother went crazy.”
“Sharon had been drinking. She was always drunk. Ray just pretended to drink, but he kept her glass full at all times.”
“Her mother was given a sedative and taken upstairs to the master bedroom. The bedroom where you left the letter right in the middle of the bed. It didn’t sound as if Blythe went up with the medics. She stayed downstairs with the cops.”
Viktor closed his eyes briefly. Of course Sharon would have taken the letter. She would have read it and destroyed it out of malice. The woman was so jealous of her daughter, she detested her. She would never want Blythe to know a man wanted her, loved her beyond anything. She’d spent a lifetime jealous of her sisters and then jealous of her daughter. But that didn’t tell him why one of his brothers hadn’t reached out to him. They must have checked on her.
Downstairs there was a lot of movement. Reaper went to the door of the bedroom to listen. “They’re leaving,” he reported. “Blythe is going out with the one they call Rikki.”
That was so like her. She’d go with Rikki in spite of the fact that she was hurting – and he knew she was. Just that small thing told him she was everything he remembered. She was the one his extended family needed. She was the one he needed.
“You don’t have to stay, Reaper. I’m going to wait until she comes back, and then I’m going to talk to her. If she needs to yell at me, or hit me, no one will be around and she’ll feel like she can.”
“And if she wants to shoot you? Women are unpredictable. And lethal. You should know that. Alena and Lana would take you down in a second.” Reaper made his way back to stand in front of Viktor.
Viktor allowed a small humorless smile to escape. “They’d try. Blythe might try to hit me, but I doubt it. She’s not prone to violence like we are. Get going, Reaper, I’ll be fine. It isn’t like I’m going to get hurt here.” If she wanted to shoot him, he’d let her. It wouldn’t happen, but if she needed that, he would oblige. Reaper couldn’t be there for that. He’d retaliate.
“Don’t be an ass. I’m not leaving. She comes back, I’ll sit on the roof and wait for you.” He looked around the room. “This is nice. Wide open. I like that.”
“My woman always liked space.” Which was a good thing. Viktor still didn’t like walls surrounding him. The more space, the better.
“They have a pretty piece of land here. Never thought I’d be thinking about buying land for myself or for us. We’re nomads. No roots.”
“I’m staying,” Viktor said decisively. “I have no intentions of leaving her again.”
“She could come with us.”
Viktor shook his head. “I want a home. We need one, Reaper. All of us. We’ll ride when we want the open road, but we need a base. We talked about this.” He’d made up his mind, told the others and left it up to them whether or not they wanted to come with him. The vote had been unanimous. They wanted to buy land, build a clubhouse and set up their legitimate businesses. Sorbacov was gone, and they were going to live openly, not hide in the shadows anymore.
“So we’ll stay here. Nothing’s changed, Czar. I’ve got your back, same as always. Your woman will either accept us or she won’t.”
Reaper’s tone said there wasn’t a chance in hell Blythe would accept their club, but Viktor knew he was wrong. Blythe wasn’t at all the way Reaper thought she was. She had too much compassion in her. She knew fun and laughter, and she gave that magic to everyone around her. How, with her shrew of a mother, he didn’t know, but there really was something magical about Blythe. She shone from the inside out.
Sharon had been eaten up with jealousy that her youngest sister had inherited the Drake estate and that her daughters had carried out the legacy of the Drake family. He didn’t know much about it other than they all had very strong psychic gifts. He believed everyone did to some extent, although Sharon’s gift seemed to be to make everyone around her miserable.
Ray had researched her carefully. She’d been the perfect cover – a woman who presented one face to the world, and was another behind closed doors. Blythe’s records at the hospital made it very clear all the broken bones she’d suffered hadn’t been from being clumsy. Viktor knew child abuse firsthand. He’d lived in a secret school with no one to help him but himself. Blythe had lived out in the open. She had an extended family, doctors, teachers, neighbors, and yet she’d still been subjected to abuse. That didn’t make sense to him.
Reaper’s hand suddenly went to the inside of his jacket, his body already beginning the turn toward the window. Viktor leapt at him, covering his hand with his own, preventing him from drawing the knife he kept there. He could draw and throw in one smooth motion, and he was deadly accurate.
“Keep your hands where I can see them.”
“Put down the gun,” Viktor said. “Seriously, put it down. I’m your brother. You’re not going to shoot me, but I can guarantee you that there’s another brother outside somewhere on that roof and he’s got you in his crosshairs. Am I right, Reaper? Did Savage follow us?”
“You’re right, Czar, and you know my brother. He’s unpredictable.”
Reaper seemed relaxed beneath Viktor’s hand, not a tense muscle, but that didn’t matter. His entire being, mind and body, was a weapon. He was fast and deadly and he never hesitated. Savage was arguably worse. Reaper was correct; he was unpredictable and as mean as a snake.
“Which one are you?” Viktor kept his tone casual. He couldn’t see the intruder, but he had no doubt Savage could see him.
“Lev.”
“You were just a toddler. You don’t remember me.”
“Not much.”
“You’re going to have to trust that I would never harm you or yours. Keep your gun and step into the room. Get away from the window.” He wasn’t a praying man, but nevertheless, he sent up a small prayer that the kid believed him. He raised his voice just to be on the safe side. “Stand down, Savage. He’s my brother.” Just for safety’s sake he kept his hand over Reaper’s. Reaper’s fist was around the hilt of the knife, but Viktor prevented him from drawing it. They stood that way, waiting.
Lev moved into the room, slipping his gun inside his jacket. Viktor let go of Reaper, but didn’t attempt to step around him. It wouldn’t do any good. He knew from experience that no matter what he said or did, Reaper would keep his body between Viktor and a perceived threat until it was clear there was no threat. Still, he feasted his eyes on his younger brother.
He looked good. A man. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Confident. He wasn’t afraid even knowing there were three against him. Viktor found himself a little shaken. He’d never really believed this day would come.
“Viktor. Everyone calls me Czar.”
“Never thought I’d see you,” Lev said.
It was impossible to tell what he was thinking; there was no expression on his face or in his eyes.
“You look a bit like our father,” Viktor said. What he could remember. He’d tried his best to hold on to those memories. His father had been a good man, and he wouldn’t have liked what Viktor had been forced to become. Sometimes Viktor wondered if it would have been better to let the bastards in the school kill him. There might have been more honor in that. Live or die. Even that choice had been taken from him.
“I don’t remember him.”
“You were too young.”
Lev held his hands out from his body to show Reaper he wasn’t a threat as he walked to one of the chairs Blythe had in the little sitting area. He sank into it. “What are you doing here?” There was no welcome, but no belligerence.
“I’m working.”
There was silence while Lev studied him. He sighed. “Can you tell me what?”
“I’m after Evan Shackler-Gratsos.”
Lev blinked. Sat up straighter. “You’re kidding. I was after his brother. Spent several years undercover, working my way up to getting next to him. The Drakes and their men took him out. I was nearly killed. That’s when Rikki found me.”
“Evan inherited the money and ships, but he already had a major human trafficking ring going. Now he’s got the money he needs to expand and the ships to dump the dead bodies when the really sick fucks pay him the right price.” Viktor sank down onto the edge of the bed again.
Reaper moved to one side, but never took his gaze from Lev.
“He’s the one you’ve been after all these years.”
Viktor nodded. “He’s the international president of the Sword MC. It’s been impossible to get close to him until now. He’s always had a burning hatred for Jackson Deveau. It started in Louisiana with his mother and Deveau’s father. I joined that chapter in order to ferret out more details. I knew sooner or later he’d go after Deveau. He’s the kind that stews on things. He’s paranoid as hell and hates everyone. I also figured when he did go after him, he’d use the New Orleans chapter to do it. Deveau’s father was the enforcer for that chapter.”
“I presume you think he’s going to try to kill Jackson now.”
“I know he is. Jackson Deveau got married. More, he married the woman Evan’s brother was keeping as his own personal sex slave. Evan’s bragged he had to show his brother how to train her. I don’t know what he has in mind for the woman, but he wants Deveau dead. Before he dies he wants to taunt him with the fact that the woman is now in his possession.”
Lev was silent again, digesting the information. Again, his expression gave nothing away. Finally he sighed. “You warn Deveau?”
“Not yet. I’ve been given the job of scouting out an area where we can bring the members of two chapters in a few at a time to camp. Evan plans to show up once we’re all in place and we know Deveau’s every move. I just got here. When I find the right campsite, I’ll send for the others.”
“You here with people you can trust?”
Viktor nodded. “My brothers.” That said it all. Lev had better understand what he was telling him.
Reaper glanced at him quickly and then his gaze was back on Lev.
“How is that?” Lev asked, his tone mild.
“We survived the school because we had one another’s back.” He wasn’t going to lie. He hadn’t seen his birth brothers in years, not since he was ten years old. He kept their memories, and he stayed in the school under Sorbacov’s thumb to keep them safe for those memories, but the men and women he’d suffered with, he’d watched tortured, were his family as well. Maybe more so. He’d die for them. More, he’d kill for them.
Lev nodded as if he understood. He’d gone to one of Sorbacov’s schools, but even he couldn’t possibly understand what it was like in the hellhole Viktor and the others had been in.
“We’ll give you whatever help you need. Just tell us.”
Viktor had known his blood brothers would back him. Still, to hear him say it without hesitation made something inside him open up a little.
“I’ll be bringing the boys by to introduce at some point. We’re searching for land right now for ourselves. I’ve already got a lock on a place that might work to tell the Swords to come in to camp, but need a few days to straighten out my business here first. Also, a lot of civilians use these campsites. I want to make certain no one will get caught in the crosshairs.”
“Does your business include Blythe Daniels?”
“Her legal name is Blythe Prakenskii. She’s been my wife for the last five years and two months.”
Lev shifted in his chair, a frown flitting across his face. “Our Blythe? You certain, Viktor? She’s as straight as they come. If she was married, she would never act single.”
“What the fuck does that mean? She seeing someone?” If it was that coward all but peeing in his pants while he ran down the street, leaving Blythe alone with Viktor, he was paying the bastard a visit. It wouldn’t be a pleasant one – at least not for the coward.
“No, but there’s a lot of men who’ve made it plain they’d like to date her. She’s been restless lately. Thinking about dating. I know because the women talk to one another. If she’s anywhere near Rikki, then I’m close by.”
“Well too bad for the men who want to date her. I’m finishing up my business with Evan, and then she’ll be living with her husband.”
He made it a decree, ignoring the warning voice that told him there was a lot of really bad water under the bridge and maybe it wouldn’t be quite that easy. The other voice said he knew Blythe. He knew her. He believed in her. He’d fallen like a ton of bricks because she was the only woman he’d ever run across in all his travels who was genuine. No guile. No lies. She was a woman a man could count on. He’d let her into his narrow world and he’d tried to give her as much of the real man as he could. She’d accepted that man with all his issues and flaws, and he had them in spades.
“You would have known Blythe was mine if you’d bothered to check any of the messages I left for you. For all of you. I wanted her looked after. Even before you took the assignment going after Stavros Gratsos I was leaving messages for you all to keep an eye on her. I wanted her watched over.” There was accusation in his voice. Anger. The rage was close to the surface.
He’d counted on his birth brothers. He’d lived and survived in that school of hell to save them. To keep them alive. He’d hunted the men who had murdered their father. He’d kept an eye on them over the years, intervening when he could if their safety was in question. “Was it so damned much to ask that someone look out for her?”
“Viktor, we never got any messages at all from you. Not in five years. Half the time we wondered if you were even alive,” Lev said.
That pulled him up short. He’d left dozens of messages. Risking his life. Needing to hear news of her. Any news at all. He’d assigned a couple of “brothers” from the school to watch over her when they were in the States, but most of their work was done in Europe or Asia.
He shook his head. “That’s impossible.”
“There was never a single message from you. We wondered how you knew about Casimir and Lissa getting married. Casimir didn’t even post the notice on our emergency board.”
“The priest told me. Of course I would go to one of my brothers’ weddings if I could possibly get there.” He kept all expression from his voice. Lev had gotten married without him. So had Stefan, Maxim and Ilya. Gavriil was the only unmarried brother, and he lived with a woman. He’d never do that if the woman wasn’t his sun, the center of his universe. Viktor had missed everything significant in the lives of his birth brothers.
Lev shook his head. “I’m telling you, Viktor…” He trailed off and shook his head again. “There hasn’t been one single communication from you in five years. No one knew where you were.”
Viktor raised his gaze to Reaper. He’d been cut off completely from Blythe. Completely. More sins on his soul. She’d needed him and he hadn’t known.
“Did you know about my daughter?” He would never forgive his birth brothers if they knew and hadn’t turned over every rock in the universe looking for him.
Lev frowned. “Daughter? You have a daughter?”
His breath escaped in a rush of relief. “Blythe and I had a daughter together. She died. Was murdered before she had the chance to live.” The words tasted like copper in his mouth. Like blood and death. His gut churned, and he knew if he let himself think about that child and his woman alone, enduring such a brutal attack without him, he wouldn’t be able to function. He had to function. It was what he did no matter how bad it got. And in his life, it got bad. Ugly. “It’s a long story. I didn’t know until now. Just now.”
“I’m sorry, Viktor,” Lev said. “Really, really sorry.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I just don’t understand why Blythe wouldn’t tell us about marrying you. She knows we’re all Prakenskiis. Why wouldn’t she say anything?”
Viktor couldn’t blame Lev for pressing him. In their business they lied all the time. Blythe didn’t. It was that simple. Lev knew her, and he knew she wouldn’t hide the truth from them. She would have told her sisters and his brothers – if she knew. How she could forget their wedding, he didn’t know. The memory of that day and night was stamped into his bones.
“I have a feeling Blythe didn’t believe any part of our marriage was real. I met her when I was hunting Ray Langton, one of his many aliases. He was a very…”
“Infamous pedophile,” Lev finished for him. “He had a partner, but no one could ever figure out who it was. Sorbacov wanted Ray taken down. He knew about the schools. At least that was the rumor.”
Viktor nodded. “One of the instructors at the school became Ray’s mentor. I don’t know how old Ray was when he was gotten ahold of, but he knew all the details and was trying to blackmail Sorbacov. It was a particularly stupid move on his part. Sorbacov set me on his trail.”
“How was Blythe involved?”
“Ray used women as a cover all the time. He married Blythe’s mother. I arranged a casual meeting with Blythe. She went running every day and I ‘accidentally’ bumped into her. She didn’t live with her mother so I had to be in a position to meet her parents, and that meant marriage.”
“You would have had an alias,” Lev pointed out. “Not a legal marriage.”
Viktor didn’t like the fact that his brother was eager to keep Blythe from him. He couldn’t exactly blame him. He looked rough. He was rough. He did like that Lev was protective of Blythe. It was nice to know someone had her back, but he was her husband and all of them had better come to terms with that fast. He wasn’t going anywhere and neither were his “brothers” and “sisters.”
“I married her in the church as Viktor Prakenskii. The papers were legal, signed and documented. She might not think it was legal, but I assure you, it was. We’ve got a lot of things to clear up, but that’s between Blythe and me. In the meantime, no one can blow my cover. The Swords play for keeps and they don’t mind spilling blood. I have enough of my men with me to make a difference, but make no mistake, Lev, hell’s coming.”
“No one will jeopardize your cover.”
“I go by Czar. In the Swords and out of it. I’m used to the name. Blythe is the only one who calls me Viktor.”
“How are you going to protect her from Evan and the rest of his club?”
“They aren’t going to know about her. Once they’re here, she won’t be in the equation. What I’m doing has nothing to do with her.”
“If this was an assignment you took when Sorbacov was alive, he’s dead. You can walk away.”
“I spent five years of my life with these scumbags. This is my one chance to get Evan and shut down his operation. I’m not walking away now.” Viktor was decisive. The price he’d paid was far higher than he’d ever imagined. His child. Perhaps Blythe. Five years of protecting utter filth. He was going to complete what he’d started out to do.
Lev nodded his understanding. “I spent a good deal of time with Evan’s brother, Stavros, and they both have strong psychic abilities. Stavros was terrified of his brother’s talent, so much so that he built an entire grid to keep anyone from using psychic talents. It was the only place he would meet with his brother. Evan was a sick son of a bitch. I mean really sick. He hated women and liked hurting them.”
Lev didn’t need to tell Viktor that. He’d observed the “training” methods Evan had instituted on the young girls he kidnapped or lured into his international prostitution ring. “Did you get a sense of what talents Evan has?”
“Only that whatever gifts they are, they’re strong and he uses them to hurt people.”
“Thanks. I appreciate the warning.” The fact that Evan had unknown psychic gifts made his task harder, but it also made him more determined. The man was even more dangerous than he’d first thought. He had the manpower and the money, and with strong psychic gifts as well, he could be unstoppable if he was allowed to retreat back into whatever secret fortress he was crawling out of. This was their one chance.
“I have to go. My woman is autistic, and she’s looking to protect me from Deveau. They think the Drakes will force us out. Rikki’s a sea urchin diver and she’s comfortable here. We’re not leaving no matter how much they want to freeze us out.”
Viktor stirred, nearly made the offer and then stopped himself. It wouldn’t be that difficult for Deveau to come to an untimely end, but he had been the one to decree to his brothers in Torpedo Ink that they were going to start a new chapter in their lives. Their first inclination would always be to remove a threat to them or their loved ones permanently, but normal people didn’t do that. They might never be normal, but they were going to try to come close.
“I know I don’t know the first thing about relationships, Lev, so I’m the last person you should listen to, but I do know something about women.”
“Go on.” Lev looked him straight in the eye, daring him to give advice.
Viktor didn’t care whether or not he took it, or if he didn’t like his oldest brother reaching out. “If she’s autistic, then she’s doing something enormous, going to this man and talking to him. For you. She’s doing this for you. It’s a gift.”
“Hard for a man to swallow, having his woman plead for him.”
“I doubt she’s going to plead. In any case, she’s doing something I respect and admire. If Blythe did that for me, I might want to turn her over my knee when she got home, but I’d be damned happy she loved me enough to do it.”
A slow smile slid over his younger brother’s face. “Rikki would try to drown me if I ever turned her over my knee. You should see her out there on the water. She’s…” He glanced at Reaper, trailed off and then stood up. “I’ll let the others know you’re here and that you’ll be getting in touch as soon as possible.”
Viktor nodded but didn’t make the mistake of trying to get to his feet. He was absolutely certain Savage was outside and that he had a rifle pointed at Lev’s heart. Sometimes it was a pain to have the two men dedicated to keeping him alive. If Blythe turned him down, there wasn’t going to be much to live for. Not after taking down Evan.
“Czar.” Lev tried out the name. “Blythe is a good woman. The best. We all love her like a sister. I hope things work out for you.”
“Be on my side, Lev. Get your woman to be on my side. I’m going to figure out what happened, why none of you got my communications, why she didn’t. I left her so many messages. I became obsessed with checking day and night for word. She never left me a single message. None of you did.”
“That’s not true. Ask the others.”
He would, not that he didn’t believe Lev, but if they all said the same thing, that they checked messages and there were none from him, that they had left him messages, then he had to figure out what happened and why. Who had managed to mess up his communication with Blythe? With his brothers?
Lev hesitated, then, ignoring Reaper, came to the side of the bed and gripped his brother by the shoulders. “It’s good you’re here. We all hoped you would come.”
Unexpectedly a lump formed in Viktor’s throat. He didn’t know this man, but he’d known the toddler. The little boy. He’d carried him around and taught him his first words. He’d been so proud of him. He remembered rocking him when he had a fever and his mother was occupied with Ilya. Lev had grown into a good man. A tough one, but a good one.
“Our father would have been proud of you,” Viktor told him. It was true. He might not have said so in words, but he would have been proud and he would have showed it. Viktor wasn’t so certain his father would think the same of him.
“Thank you. I’ll see you soon?” It was a question. A statement.
Viktor noticed Lev didn’t look at Reaper. “Yes. We’re staying, Lev. I hope that my birth family will integrate with my chosen family. They’ve had my back, and they got me through hard times.” It was an understatement. They’d saved his life numerous times.
Lev glanced at Reaper. Viktor knew what he saw. All of them looked rough. Scarred. Dangerous. Lev was the same, but in a different way. Still, Lev nodded. “I hope so as well. Anyone who helped you has friends in us.”
That was sincere, and even Reaper had to hear that. Viktor nodded. “Call if you have need, but don’t come close.”
“I know the drill.”
They all did. Each of his brothers had attended one of Sorbacov’s schools. They’d all been brutal, especially the one Gavriil had been sent to, but at least Sorbacov had wanted them to live. The boys and girls sent to the school from hell, the one Viktor had been in, had been expected to die. Sorbacov wanted them dead. He wanted the others to know there was a place worse than the one they were at; one they could be sent to if they didn’t cooperate.
Sorbacov had videos made of children being “punished.” Torture was more like it. There were even some videos of the pedophiles violating the children, although those weren’t authorized and Sorbacov either hadn’t known they existed or he thought he could keep them contained. He couldn’t afford to have any of those videos surface. It always made everyone in Torpedo Ink uneasy that the videos existed and were floating around in the world of pedophiles. They were old, so hopefully by now, they were corrupted and gone.
Reaper followed Lev to the window and signaled to Savage to let him pass unscathed.
Savage stuck his head into the room after he was gone. “It’s a good thing he looks like you. I nearly took him out thinking he was your woman’s boyfriend or after you. The light caught him just right and I knew he had to be one of your birth brothers.”
Viktor noted that Savage had tacked on the word birth. They all referred to one another as brothers and sisters. In their world, it was true. They were closer than most birth families.
“I appreciate that.” He waved at both of them. “I’m going to wait for Blythe to come back. You two take off.”
Reaper raised an eyebrow. “You’re getting to be an old man, Czar. I don’t like repeating myself, but I’ll go sit on the roof with Savage so you can figure out in peace what you’re going to say to your old lady.” He hesitated. “I can fill him in.”
Viktor didn’t meet his eyes. He nodded, giving Reaper permission to share what he’d heard. Just thinking about his daughter was a body blow. He wanted to be alone to give himself time to grieve. He needed that. He’d all but forgotten how. His world was about survival and survival meant feeling as little as possible, but he was going to allow himself to feel everything. All of it. Just this once. While he was alone and could let himself. Then he’d try to figure out what the hell happened to his messages. After that he’d try to figure out what he was going to say to his woman.