Page 9 of Redeem Me

“Do you want my advice?” he asks, and I nod immediately.

Viktor leisurely eats his sandwich before wiping his mouth and admiring me.

“You should rest. Take advantage of the nannies. Heal from your injuries. Catch up with your sister and friends. Think of yourself as being on vacation.”

I force myself to keep eating the sandwich despite my stomach rebelling out of stress. Holding Viktor’s gaze, I nod.

“When this,” he says and gestures at my bruised face, “has healed, things might be different. Leaving like you did was very embarrassing for the family. Your return will draw attention to our failure. The situation you face will likely no longer feel like a vacation. Do you understand?”

Nodding, I force down my last bite and swallow hard to keep my stomach from upchucking. Viktor hands me a napkin and pours sparking water for me.

His every gesture feels like a nail in my coffin. I don’t know how I avoid crying and begging. I saw a man far more powerful than me break down and plead for his life when faced with Viktor’s anger.

However, I keep my mouth shut and obey. Whatever the cost, I can’t break. Two little people need me to be strong, even if that means acting weak.

“Thank you,” I say after I’ve finished the offered drink.

Viktor watches me the entire time like a predator toying with its prey. He finally brushes his fingers across my bruised cheek.

“No one hides from death, Natasha,” he says in his native tongue. “Some are lucky enough to live to ninety like your great-aunt Viv. Others barely take a breath like your brother Michal.”

I recall my mother’s reaction to my youngest brother’s death. She barely showed any reaction in front of us kids. I almost thought she didn’t care. Except I heard her once, in her room, hiding from the world, sobbing as if her heart had been ripped out.

I can’t be that strong. I’ll never be able to hide my pain like she does. Even now, my eyes burn with stubborn tears.

“The father of those children,” Viktor continues, “was always going to die. Even if you never met him, his life would have ended. You only changed the time and reason. But you took nothing from him, not already owed to the universe. Choose to shed no tears over breaking your pacifist oath.”

My father smiles at my scowling face. He taps my nose and wraps an arm around me to offer a quick side hug.

“You always were stubborn,” Viktor says, taking the plate and glass to the sink. “Your great-aunt Viv is, too. Possibly, that’s why she’s still alive.”

Viktor gestures for me to follow him. “Of course, your great-aunt married the man chosen for her and never embarrassed her family. That also might be why she lived so long.”

“I’m sorry,” I say as we reach the foyer.

“Are you truly?” he asks, staring into my eyes and stealing my ability to lie.

“No.”

Smirking appreciatively at my honesty, Viktor nods. “No more running, Natasha. Do you understand?”

“Yes.

“Truly?”

“Yes.”

Viktor strokes the back of my head and gestures for me to go upstairs. I hurry away from him and toward my babies. I find them still snuggled in bed. Hector stirs when I climb in between them.

“Mommy,” he whispers before returning to sleep.

As I try to relax, I think back to something Bear O’Malley once asked me.

“What’s the point of being a pacifist in a violent world?”

I hadn’t answered him, assuming he was mocking me. I understood why he was a violent man. His life wasn’t easy before he found the O’Malley family and the Backcountry Kings Motorcycle Club. The man had seen the world’s ugliness in very stark terms.

Nonviolence was another word for weakness in his mind. I didn’t think his brutal world view made him a bad man. I even hoped Bear was hiding bleeding-heart sentimentalities under his growling, rough exterior.

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