Viktor

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Viktor Page 12

by Apryl Baker


  “That’s why we’re admitting him. We’re giving him lots of fluids to help flush the drug from him system. Given his concussion, we’re concerned, and we want to observe him tonight to make sure there are no complications.”

  Viktor nodded. “What room is he in?”

  “Four twelve. He’s still sleeping and will be for a while. It’s going to take time for the drug to wear off.”

  Viktor stood and marched out of the room without a word. He was doing his best to keep his anger in check because of Delia. She was wrapped around him, her baby face snuggled into the crook of his neck.

  They took the elevator to the fourth floor and found Mason’s room easily. He was already settled into the bed, hooked up to an IV. They’d put one of those drafty hospital gowns on him. He hated those things. Mason always complained his ass flapped in the wind.

  “He’s going to be okay,” Sara whispered.

  He nodded, unable to voice anything for fear of what might spew out. Viktor had an idea of who’d done it. He only hoped the cameras caught it. Why would Roger go after Mason, though? It made no sense.

  His body hummed with anger. Sara had pulled two chairs close to Mason’s bed and tried to take Delia from him, but she wouldn’t budge. She clung to him like a monkey.

  “She’s fine where she is,” he said, brushing Sara away. He started to pace, trying to calm down. Every time he looked at his brother, his anger soared to new heights.

  “Viktor, give her to me.” Sara watched his anger grow with each passing moment. She knew what that kind of anger could do, and she wanted her daughter away from him.

  He stopped pacing and looked at her. His eyes widened, understanding her fear. “Here, malyshka, your mama needs you.”

  “No.” Blonde pigtails slapped him in the mouth with her denial. “I want you.”

  “Honey, Viktor’s upset. Come sit with me until he calms down.”

  “But, Mommy, he’s not mad at me. He’s mad at whoever hurt Mason.” The logic in Delia’s words struck Sara, but she still wanted her away from Viktor.

  “I know, poppet, but I’d feel better if you sat with me.”

  “Viktor loves me. He wouldn’t ever hurt me.” She tucked her head back in the crook of Viktor’s shoulder and sighed happily.

  Viktor’s arms tightened around Delia, and he took several deep breaths. Sara watched him fight back the anger he was feeling. Delia’s words had struck him as deeply as they had her. Her baby, terrified of so many people, especially men, said flat out Viktor loved her, and despite the anger radiating from him, she only snuggled deeper into his arms.

  “I do love you, malyshka. No matter how angry I am, I will never hurt you.”

  “I know.” Delia pulled back long enough to kiss his cheek. Sara watched the stark wonder eat away at the anger in his eyes. He hugged her before sitting in one of the chairs, holding Delia like she was a lifeline in a raging storm.

  How had he won her daughter’s heart in so little time?

  It was a question that rattled around in her head over the next two hours as they sat quietly and waited for Mason to wake up. Delia usually ran from anyone who showed even the smallest sign of anger. And here she was, curled up against a man who was so angry Sara herself flinched away from him.

  She needed a breather.

  “Hey, I’m going to go grab a cup of coffee. Do you want one?”

  He looked up and frowned. “I don’t want you going anywhere by yourself, Sara, not after what happened with your mother.”

  “Viktor, we’re at the hospital. I highly doubt Roger will even know we’re here.”

  “If he was the one who shot my brother full of tranqs, he’ll be here.”

  That thought never crossed her mind. Well, truthfully, she hadn’t stopped to consider how it happened. But why would Roger target Mason?

  “Even if that’s true, here is the last place he’ll be. Roger’s smarter than that.” When he started to argue, she held up a hand. “I need a few minutes by myself, okay? I’ll see if the nurses’ station has coffee they can give me. I won’t leave the floor.”

  He looked like he was ready to argue, but Delia muttered in her sleep. She’d dozed off on his lap about an hour ago. Sara left her there not only because it was where Delia wanted to be, but holding the little girl seemed to calm Viktor. He wouldn’t argue and risk waking her up after she’d cried herself to sleep, worried about Mason.

  “Five minutes, or I will call security to track your ass down.”

  She rolled her eyes and wasted no time in leaving, afraid he’d change his mind. Five minutes away from him would help her collect her thoughts. And she’d find him a damn shirt to put on. They’d rushed to the hospital, none of them thinking about his lack of clothing, but the nurses were more than aware of it. Every time they came in to check on Mason, they stared at Viktor’s naked chest.

  The nurses’ station did indeed have coffee, and they gave her a cup, but no scrubs. They did offer to try to find a scrub top for him, but Sara wasn’t counting on it. They liked looking at him as much as she did.

  She didn’t go straight back to the room. Instead, she walked down the hall a bit to think. Her concern for Delia died with her daughter’s statement that Viktor wouldn’t hurt her. Her baby stayed in Viktor’s arms even when he was shaking with rage, secure in the knowledge she was safe with him.

  So maybe she should stop looking for Roger in him. He’d proven time and time again he wasn’t her ex. She’d seen him angry, but every time he touched her, none of that rage transferred to her. He’d been gentle and caring. He was a bossy ass, but she could even overlook that because he was only trying to keep them safe.

  Her thoughts wandered back to the barn. He’d been pressed against her so tight, she had nowhere to go, couldn’t move if she’d wanted to. He’d been earnest when he told her what he wanted. To be her forever guy. Should she stop getting in her own way?

  Sara was honest with herself. She was attracted to the man and wanted to kiss him even though he seemed determined not to. Get to know her, he said. What did that entail, exactly?

  Confusion plagued her. Sara wanted to kiss him, yet she held herself back. She was afraid. Not of him physically hurting her. That fear all but died, thanks to her daughter. She was afraid of what he could do to her heart. This man had the potential to cause her more pain than anything Roger could do to her.

  But in her heart, she knew he had the potential to be the best thing that ever happened to her. There was such kindness in him, even when he was being a bossy ass.

  Everything was happening too fast. She’d barely left her husband and was trying to rebuild her life and learn to be the woman she’d shoved down so far inside herself, Sara wasn’t even sure she existed anymore. And then Fate plopped Viktor right into her lap. She probably had a good ol’ laugh at the havoc he was going to create in Sara’s life when she did it.

  And she was still married. Granted, she’d filed for divorce, but that didn’t negate the simple truth of her marriage. While she wasn’t overly religious, the bonds of matrimony meant something to her. That was another reason her attraction to Viktor bothered her and she held herself back.

  If she gave in and allowed herself to fall for Viktor, what would people say? They’d judge her for it and doubt her accusations aimed toward Roger. All they’d see was a woman trying to escape her marriage so she could fall into bed with another man. She’d endured years of abuse at Roger’s hands, and if she listened to her heart when it came to Viktor, she could potentially endure years more of whispered slander.

  Why did everything have to be so complicated?

  She rubbed her temple and started to walk. A headache was threatening. A lap up and down the floor might help take some of the edge off.

  Distracted, she didn’t notice the stairwell door opening or the hand that reached for her until it was too late. Jerked into the stairwell, there wasn’t even time to scream before a hand clamped over her mouth and dragged her down the sta
irs.

  Viktor shifted Delia and pulled out his phone. He called Gabe first, who informed him the cameras were down. Mason must have been installing the motion sensors and powered off the system until he was done. Or maybe he’d been rebooting everything to bring the sensors online. There would be no video of Roger unless he happened to show up before the cameras were powered off. Given the bastard’s luck, Viktor would bet good money there wouldn’t be a trace of him anywhere.

  Gabe promised to go look for anything that might have been used to hold the ketamine. It could be a dart, or it could have been a needle if Roger had snuck up on his brother. Hard to do, considering the kid had to be on constant alert growing up so he didn’t get ambushed by his brothers. If they could find the delivery mechanism, it might have the bastard’s fingerprints on it, but again, he held little hope of that.

  The next call he made was to the Virginia State Police headquarters two counties over. He asked for Sheriff Peter Grimes.

  “Sheriff Grimes.”

  “Hey, Uncle Pete.”

  “Viktor?” The old man’s tone warmed up as soon as he heard Viktor’s voice. “How you been, boy?”

  Pete Grimes wasn’t his uncle, per se. He was his Aunt Ethel’s brother, and the boys had grown so fond of him, they called him Uncle Pete.

  “I’ve been better,” he confessed.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Everything, and there’s not a fucking thing I can do about it.”

  “Quit talking around the problem and spit it out.” The curt command made Viktor smile. His uncle was never one to beat around the bush. He explained to him about Sara’s ex and how he suspected he was the one who’d felled Mason.

  “Son of a bitch,” the old man swore. “How the hell did he get out of jail so easily?”

  “He’s got family here in the local PD who spoke up for him. I can go to them about this, but without proof…”

  “It’s hearsay and those pricks won’t do a damn thing,” his uncle finished. He could hear him muttering but couldn’t quite make it out.

  “If I can catch him breaking the restraining order, it will at least get him tossed in jail. How much time is he looking at if convicted of domestic violence?”

  The old man sighed. “Here in Virginia, it’s a misdemeanor with a max of twelve months. It only qualifies as a felony if he’s been convicted at least three times over the course of ten years.”

  “That’s fucking stupid.”

  “It’s the law, son.”

  Viktor wanted to hit something, but the little girl cuddled against his chest kept him under control. He wouldn’t scare her after she’d given him her trust.

  “Was he charged with domestic violence, or were there other charges attached to it?”

  “He’s also charged with assault and battery against Delia. Fucker hit her so hard, it knocked one of her front teeth out.”

  “Delia?”

  “Sara’s daughter. She’s six.”

  “He laid hands on his own daughter?” Pete’s anger rolled through the phone lines. “No fucking way should they have let him out that easily on that little amount of bond. Family or no family.”

  “He’s friends with most of the cops around here. It’s why I’m so worried even if I do find proof, they’ll somehow manage to get around it. I haven’t voiced my concerns to Sara. I don’t want her more worried than she needs to be.”

  “Tell you what. I’ll give ol’ Jim Parker a call. He’s the sheriff of the state police out by you. I’ll see if I can convince him to start showing more of a presence in town, making sure a car runs by her place a couple times a day.”

  “You sure Roger doesn’t have him in his back pocket too?”

  “I’ve known him for nigh on thirty years. I’d bet my retirement on it.”

  “Whatever you can do to help, Uncle Pete, I’d appreciate it.”

  “Anything you need, Viktor, you have it. I’ll be by as soon as I get off shift to check on Mason.”

  “Thanks, Uncle Pete.” Viktor said his goodbyes and hung up. He checked his watch. She’d been gone a good fifteen minutes. That woman was going to be the death of him yet.

  Getting up, he shifted Delia so her head rested on his shoulder and walked to the doorway. He saw no sign of Sara. His gut twisted. She promised not to leave the floor. Viktor tried not to panic. She could be in the bathroom. He strode down the hallway to the public restroom on the floor and opened the door.

  Empty.

  He worked hard to keep his cool while he checked with the nurses’ station. Yes, she’d gotten a cup of coffee from them. The last anyone saw of her was over by the stairwell.

  He couldn’t run. Delia was asleep on his shoulder. He gently woke her up. She blinked, her eyes sleepy.

  “Is Mason awake?”

  “No, malyshka. I need you to stay with the nurse for a few minutes, okay?”

  “Where’s Mommy?”

  “That’s what I’m going to find out, baby girl.” He turned to the nurse. “Can she stay here?”

  “Of course.” The nurse frowned but came and collected her. “You can sit over here by me.”

  Viktor thanked her and rushed toward the stairwell.

  ***

  Sara tried to scream, but the hand clamped over her mouth prevented it. An arm around her middle held her hostage as he dragged her toward the stairs.

  Hell to the no.

  She was not going to be dragged down a flight of stairs and then to who knew where. She fought. Her head slammed into her captor’s, and she heard the crunching sound of bone breaking when her head exploded in pain. So worth the pain, since his grip eased up, and she was able to twist out of his grasp and run for the door.

  He caught her by the hair and yanked her backward. “You fucking bitch!” he hissed right before his fist slammed into her face.

  This was something she was used to, so the pain didn’t stop her like it would have anyone else. Roger hit her regularly. Maybe it even prepared her to fight once she decided to stop taking the abuse. He’d pulled her close, and she used that to her advantage. Her knee came up and nailed him in the balls. He let out a screech and clutched his precious jewels. Taking the opportunity, she pushed him with all her might, and he started to fall backward down the stairs.

  Only he caught her arm as he fell, and she went hurtling down the cold concrete steps with him. Her back hit each step, and she couldn’t stop the cry that burst from her. When they came to a stop on the landing between the third and fourth floors, they both stayed still for a moment, the shock of the fall knocking the air right out of their lungs.

  He recovered first and sat up. She noticed then he had on a black ski mask that completely covered his face, all except for his eyes. They were a clear green and looked ready to murder her. She tried to draw air into her lungs, but they didn’t want to work just yet.

  “You’re going to pay for that,” he promised and stood. He reached down and grabbed her ankles and started to tow her down the stairs, making sure her back came into contact with each step.

  Sara kicked, fighting to breathe and trying to get loose all at the same time. She barely registered the bellow, but her would-be kidnapper did. He snarled but let go. “Next time.”

  Then he ran down the stairs, leaving her lying there feeling half dead. She felt the vibrations on the stairs as feet pounded down, and then Viktor was there, his face a mottled mix of rage and concern.

  She raised her hand and pointed down the stairs, wanting him to go after the man, but he didn’t so much as look that way. His entire focus was on her.

  She wheezed and tried to sit up, but he pushed her back down. “Don’t move.” His hands ran over her body, checking for injuries. When his fingers met her wrist, she hissed. He made a noise she couldn’t quite put a name to.

  “Viktor,” she managed to say as the air started to return to her oxygen-starved lungs. “He’s getting away.”

  “I’ll deal with him later, moye sokrovishche. Right now, I
need to make sure you’re okay.”

  His hands were gentle as they checked her, and she felt the first prick of tears. No one had ever been this gentle with her, and it made her feel vulnerable.

  “Did I hurt you?” He stilled, his face alarmed.

  She shook her head and tried to stop the tears, but the damn things welled up, and she started crying in earnest.

  “Moye sokrovishche?” When she didn’t answer him, he picked her up, cradled her to his chest, and ran. His back hit the door, and then the bright lights of Mason’s hospital floor met her. The headache that had been threatening rolled forward with a vengeance, and she winced.

  “Mommy!”

  “Shh, malyshka. I’ve got her. She’s going to be fine.” He turned to the nurse. “Call security and the police. Now.”

  Nurses rushed her, and she was pulled away from Viktor, who picked up Delia and followed. She was hustled into a wheelchair and taken to the ER. The next half hour flew by in a blur as she was poked and prodded and asked what happened. X-ray was an even worse nightmare. Not only was she prodded again, it caused her wrist and her back to scream in outrage. By the time she was taken back to her room in the ER, she wanted nothing more than her own bed and some Icy Hot patches.

  Such was not the case, though. The police showed up. The officer was Carl Dillinger. His brother worked with Roger at the garage, so she held no hope he’d do more than a cursory look into this.

  “Sara Jane.” He came over and inspected her injuries. “You look like you tangled with a wildcat and lost.”

  “I feel like it.” She grimaced when she accidently leaned on her left side, which was purpling up nicely.

  “Want to tell me what happened?”

  “I’d like to know that myself.” Up until now, Viktor had been quiet, letting the doctors and nurses work. He looked fit to be tied. At least he was keeping Delia calm. The little girl kept trying to climb on her, but he deftly distracted her each time.

  Carl eyeballed Viktor up and down, his brow furrowing. “Who are you?”

 

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