12. Vitali

TWELVE

Vitali

K risti pulls her sleeves down to cover her hands and her eyes won’t meet mine. I wait her out and move her guilty pleasures out of reach until she looks at me.

We had a deal. She was supposed to call me if things were bad. Her cunt of a mother isn’t home, evidenced by there being no drunk fuck on the sofa and the house actually containing breathable air but she’s avoiding me. My tone hardens when she stares off into the distance.

“Kristi, show me your tattoo.”

I’m not going to spill her secrets with Stasi behind me and I quickly check to make sure she can’t see before I step closer to the little shit.The tattoo is on her shoulder, but she understands what I’m asking for as she pulls up one sleeve far too fast while moving the other slowly.

One arm free, one arm fucking not.

Guilt swarms me at the sight of the little cuts. I promised her I’d be there, and I’ve even let her sit in on some of the fights when her mind is drowning. I push the donuts back towards her, hand her the coffee she lives on, and soften my voice.

“Eat up, kid, need you to grow big and strong so I have a good lawyer one day.”

It’s half a joke, considering the life I’m in I might actually need her to save my ass in the future.I’d trust the little shit at seventeen more than I would some pompous prick in a suit. She has more reason to fight, and I don’t grab her arm as much as I want to inspect it. If I make her feel ashamed, she’ll start her downward spiral and then she’ll never come to me.

Kristi opens the box of donuts and I swipe the caramel custard before she can put her sticky fingers on it. I take a bite that demolishes half of it in one go then hold it out to her as Stasi comes to my side.They both grimace but Kristi loses her bitchy attitude as she stares between Stasi and me as though we’re an equation. She fixes on my girl, I know she can act like a grade-A bitch, it’s why I’m friends with a teenager, but I straighten my shoulders as though Stasi needs me to protect her. Kristi sticks to words instead of violence as the asshole insults me when I bought her breakfast.

“Why are you with him ? Do you have low self-esteem?”

Stasi is beautiful but I’m not a pile of dog shit that it’s impossible to see us together. Checking our reflection in the mirror above the sofa, I can’t lie to myself, we look fucking amazing together. The image is only better when we’re naked, which isn’t appropriate for the dickhead teenager.

Both of them are assholes and Stasi shrugs. “I was thinking about getting a puppy, I thought I’d test it out for the day.”

I’m buying her a gag in the shape of a bone for her stupid comment.

“Have you potty trained him or does he shit inside?” Kristi asks while picking up the box to stop me taking it away from her.

They go back and forth, trading any insult they can come up with for me like I’m not here, both of them are pricks. I’m not buying Kristi another one of her shitty coffees, Stasi’s punishment will be harder and hurt us both when she’s a writhing mess.

I pull Stasi to my side to sit on the armrest and she’s so adorable, trying to get away from me. Her nipping doesn’t do shit and I load the photo I’m 70% sure is Becca. I’m stalling, not wanting to get the kid’s hopes up that I’ll bring her sister home, but I can’t keep it to myself. Whatever the price is will be worth it as long as the little shit doesn’t try acting older than her years.

Once Kristi has finished eating, she sits back, gesturing for me to begin and I slowly turn the screen. I wouldn’t have survived my childhood without my brothers and at seventeen I was still lost. The first sign of any gentleness comes over her face at the image on my phone and right now Stasi is more equipped at speaking than me.

“Do you know that girl, sweetheart?”

The endearment has the opposite effect and Kristi screws her face up, acting like a hardass.

“She’s my sister, we have the same tattoo.”

My girl finally understands why we’re here when she pulls the edge of her T-shirt away from her shoulder, showing the butterfly inked on her skin. It’s a generic butterfly, and it could have been on anyone’s shoulder with the placement being common. I’ve only met Becca once so the confirmation is necessary, and I formulate my plan to get her back.

Handing Stasi her laptop, I kiss her cheek while Kristi fake gags. I hold my middle finger up, stretching my arm so it’s in her face, and noisily kiss my girl’s cheek.

“Go wait in the car, I’m going to kick her ass.”

She rolls her eyes, knowing the kid is safe and points at the donuts before leaving.

“Don’t let him eat them all, he’ll be too excited.”

As soon as the door clicks closed, the bitchy teenager gives way to a scared kid. Softening my voice so she knows I’m not going to hurt her takes more effort than I’m used to as I ask, “Is Pete coming around?”

She shakes her head and lets out a sigh that’s older than her before giving her confession.

“I was pissed, I wanted the world to burn, and then I just wanted me to burn.”

She doesn’t look at me or say anything more, soI lightly tap my foot against hers to get her attention. I dip my head so she can see my sincerity as I remind her, “You don’t do that shit again, remember? If you need something, you call me and you have my brothers’ personal numbers in case it’s an emergency and you can’t get me.”

They can suck a dick when they find out.

She nods to herself, picks at her fingers, then turns back into being an asshole and asks, “Did you have to pay her to be your girlfriend? Or is it blackmail?”

I stand, holding my middle finger up to her face, so my knuckle is brushing her nose and say, “I’m not like you who would need to do that shit for anyone to spend time around you.”

“Yeah, right,” she scoffs as I do a sweep to make sure there are no blades. “When I’m older I’m going to be one of those women who has a boy toy doing everything for me.”

I pause in the kitchen and look at her. “How much older?”

“I don’t know, like old-old, probably your age, or mid-thirties.”

“What the fuck? I’m not old and mid-thirties isn’t old either you dipshit, how the fuck would you have a boy toy at that age?”

She shrugs because she’s an idiot who clearly doesn’t understand the reality of being an adult. All the bullshit about what’s old and young disappears after a while but I like the thought of her being with someone younger than her because then she’ll have more power and it’ll be easier for me to scare the shit out of them.

“Easy, it’ll be someone younger than me and I’ll be rich so they’ll have to do what I say. Is that how your arrangement works with Stasi because she definitely shouldn’t be with someone like you?”

“The fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, you know, she’s pretty and she dresses well, and you’re,” she waves her hand in the air, gesturing to my face then body, “just you.”

I look down at myself and I’m not dressed badly; I’m dressed normally in jeans and a T-shirt. Stasi always wears dresses and fuck-me heels, but that’s her uniform and this is mine. I don’t need to look at my face to know I’m perfect and my body is the same.

“You’re a bitch, Crusty,” I mutter at the teenaged dickhead as she cackles to herself like an evil witch.

“It’s blackmail, isn’t it?” I ignore her shouting at my back and walk the fuck away from her before she can hurt my ego anymore. “Tell me, I can prepare your defense.”

Fucking shithead, she’ll be a good lawyer though since her mind runs faster than her mouth and I don’t turn as I tell her to fuck off.

“I pissed in your coffee, I hope you can taste the difference.” Before I open the front door, I add, “And make sure there’s no fucking boys around you or I’ll kick the shit out of them.”

I’m about to tell her to lock up after me when I open the door to see her cunt of a mother eating her abusive boyfriend’s face.

“Do your homework, Crusty,” I say over my shoulder and close the door behind me.

The prick focused his rage on the wrong kid and my feet are light, silent, carrying me to them with a wide smile on my face. Her mom screeches as my shadow breaks them apart and my smile gets wider as I cock my arm back and he stumbles back in an attempt to avoid my fist. There’s no pain when I do it again and I laugh at the split in his cheek. Weak cunt. He can hit a kid but he always bleeds so easily.

I look up at the house to make sure Kristi has gone to her room and she stands at the window, pressing her middle finger against the glass while chuckling to herself. I regret teaching her to do it now and she’s not the angry eleven-year-old anymore; she has sarcasm to add to her anger and I ignore her mother’s screaming as I get in the car.

As soon as I’ve opened the car door, Stasi asks, “What did he do?”

There’s no searching for a justification, she’s intrigued, and I get in without starting the car. The little cunt, Pete, drags himself around his car and I watch, making sure he drives away. Her rotten excuse for a mother get in the passenger seat and I look back at Kristi’s window as I say, “He’s a prick and tried to beat the shit out of Kristi a few years ago.”

There’s one rule I live by: don’t touch kids. In any way, you don’t lust after them or harm a hair on their head. When they’re older it’s fine, go wild and let them defend themselves because 99% of the time the weak fucks won’t even try. They get off on the power imbalance, knowing their opponent is weaker because they’re still growing.

My girl is talkative as she fixes her hate on the back of Pete’s ugly-ass head as he sits in his car.

“How do you know her?”

It’s not a secret and if it was I’d still give her the information.

“That prick would lock her in the car when he’d come to the fights. He’s been fucking her mom since Kristi was seven or eight years old, but he left a crowbar on the backseat once and she broke the window to get free. I was there, and she threatened to smash my face in.”

A soft laugh fills the car and I’m awestruck. Stasi doesn’t laugh enough. Especially when it’s such a beautiful sound. Val’s call breaks through it and I decline his call, knowing it will just be a checkup to see if I’ve lost my mind.

I expect Stasi to ignore my demand to be there when she goes to the auction. But by some miracle she doesn’t act like herself and actually sends me the information without me begging for it.

Me:

What you wearing?

Stasi:

Right now? Nothing.

My thumb hits videocall and the stubborn shit declines before it can even ring. She can’t just say shit like she’s naked and then ignore me.

stasi declined video call

Let me see

stasi declined video call

I’m having withdrawals

I’m at a dress fitting with my mother and the bride from hell

I’ll see you in two days

Tonight. My room. Wear those black boots that have that lace shit at the top of your thigh

Can’t.

Engagement party.

Tell your hand to tap in for me.

There’s no one in existence more perfect than her. Anything I could possibly say is never met with silence and her dangerous mind is the biggest turn on. If I was blindfolded and had my hearing blocked, I’d still get hard from how fucking insane she is. Inessa walks into the kitchen and her brows go up, seeing me engrossed in my phone. I leave her to dawdle while I respond to my girl and she gets out all the shit she needs to make me look pretty.

Two days, Vartanov.

Wear a suit and say thank you, Stasi.

Can I say it between your legs?

What about whispering it in your ear from behind?

The first one is fine.

I won’t have to hear you then.

Even better. I’ll pick you up

What color tie should I wear to match your dress?

I’m sorry, you have used all available credits trying to reach [ANASTASIA] for the day. Please try again in 48 hours.

Alternatively, dial 1-800-GOFUCK-YOURSELF to purchase more.

When she doesn’t respond, I let my phone drop and drag my ass up, going to my sister-in-law turned beautician and slap my hands together to get the ducklings’ attention. “Ready to get even more beautiful? You’ll all look like me once we’re finished.”

Viktor snorts and tries to walk past me with ice cream, but I swipe it out of his hands as he says, “No one wants to look like the ugliest Vartanov.”

“Your dad’s the ugliest one out of all of us. Vlad found him outside a zoo and brought him home to be our pet.”

He rears back at the insult when it isn’t even against him. He’s spent too much time around Vlad because he drops his voice and perfects the cold violent stare as he says, “Don’t talk about my dad, and I look like him.”

My teeth freeze as I bite into the cone just to piss him off. I move away from Inessa so I’m out of slapping distance as I continue arguing with a teenager.

“Vik,” I say, exasperated, “I’ve taken shits that look better than you.”

Mother just shakes her head, fed up with our bullshit while he tries to win the insulting game by using logic.

“Why do you look at your shit?” he asks with a smirk that shows he’s one of us. “Are you searching for more food?”

I ignore him as she laughs and hand him his ice cream back.

It’s our routine of spreading whatever face masks Inessa is obsessed with on our skin and watching people pop volcanic pimples. Now there’s a full brood lined around us with children’s face cream on their cheeks. Inessa is the sister-in-law from heaven but she’s too perceptive and waits until I’m sitting beside her with my face stuck in place to interrogate me.

“Who were you talking to?”

My voice isn’t as stilted as hers with the bottom half of my face free to move and I don’t think about my answer.

“The woman of my dreams.”

Viktor has to be a shithead and he doesn’t even move forward as he asks, “How much does she charge?”

Little pieces of clay crumble and Dani’s laugh is right behind me, joining Inessa’s. The traitor, she’s my best friend, my first girl and she doesn’t even come to my defense.

Taking the seat beside me, she shakes while applying her mask and takes too long to speak as she decides to drop me in more shit.

“Is it the one who ran out of your room before you could even give her clothes the other day?”

She didn’t run though, Stasi was hiding behind the door, and I hate my family when Viktor pushes his head forward and opens his mouth.

“Was that the night Stasi stayed over?”

He knows what he’s doing, the little shit. Both Inessa and Dani fill with questions and turn to face me, each of them grabbing one of my arms so I can’t leave.If I ever needed evidence that having kids young is a bad choice it’s in the little fucker sitting back with his hands under his head proudly crossing his ankles on the edge of the table. The first person he brings home is being woken up to a singing telegram and I’ll make Val cuddle them to death or lay at the end of their bed like an old dog warming their feet.

I stare him out and ask, “How’s Grace doing? Did she hold your hand again?”

His face falls and he slowly stares between my smug grin and his mom’s face as she softly asks, “Who’s Grace?”

His dad picks up on the tail end of the conversation and if there’s one thing Val can do it’s smother his son in protectiveness. My nephew knows he’s fucked up as his dad rounds the sofa and starts his questioning him.

“Why were you holding her hand?”

The face mask hasn’t fully set and the wet patches at Viktor’s jaw have little cracks in them.

“I wasn’t,” he tries to lie, and I sit up, eager to make his life harder.

“Yeah he wasn’t just holding her hand. He had one arm over her shoulders too. You should have seen them both with hearts in their eyes and he?—”

I’m cut off as the little fucking shithead forces his arm over Inessa’s thighs and fucking punches me in the dick. He doesn’t do it with enough force to knock the wind out of me and Inessa hugs him with one arm while Dani elbows me before I can hit him back.

“What the fuck?!” I snap as I hold my hands over my crotch. “He just assaulted me and you’re both protecting him?”

I’m ignored as Val sits on the edge of the coffee table and folds his arms over his chest. My brother has classic middle-child syndrome; it’s why he’s always moaning about something and thinks no one likes him, but he’s more mature as he asks his son, “Who’s Grace?”

I lean back, resting my head on the edge of the sofa, and hum, “Yeah, Viktor, tell your dad all about you and little Gracey.” I crack open one eye to see him glaring at me and the face mask is setting, making me aware of how fucking smug I am as I stage-whisper, “That’s what he calls her. Gracey and Viktor, how adorable.”

“Aww,” Dani coos. “That’s sweet.”

Val whips his head to her and spits out, “It’s not fucking sweet. They’re kids.”

My nephew is two seconds away from killing me by the look in his eyes and I attempt to take the heat off him as I ask Val, “Are you jealous he was hugging someone else?”

Dani joins in and her chest shakes as she laughs. “Don’t say that’s why you’re having a tantrum?”

“I’m not having a fucking tantrum,” he seethes.

“Dad?” Viktor whispers. “You are a little bit.”