Page 78 of Dice & Dekes

I hate this. I hate that my parents are fighting about me, and about Viktor. I hate that Dad’s holding a stupid grudge… but then, so was I, until a couple of weeks ago.

Dad speaks first. “That was out of line. I’m sorry, Knova.”

I shrug one shoulder. “It was factually accurate.”

His sigh is bone deep. “You made a mistake with the pool house. I just don’t want to see you make another mistake with Viktor.”

I shift so that we’re facing each other head-on. “He’s a grown man, Dad. You’ve known him since he was little. You know his family. And it’s not like you thought I’d be here forever, right?”

“I know he had a drug problem back in middle school,” Dad growls. “Who knows what he’s into now.”

“A drug problem?” I let out an incredulous laugh. “Do you mean the time he took a confidence pill?” Once again, I can only marvel at my brother’s adolescent logic.

“Is that what they call it these days? He was taking pills as a child, Knova. His parents signed him up for community service the summer before high school. He’s always been a troublemaker. And maybe I’d let that slide—if he wasn’t dragging you into it. My only daughter deserves better than some boy who’s been skating the line since puberty and flashing that smile like it’s a hall pass.”

I can’t help but laugh. This is too absurd. “Dad, he went to the hospital for taking some sort of holistic ED supplement. He took a boner pill that Knight bought for him.”

Dad reels. “Wait, what?”

“Knight bought him an herbal supplement from the gas station. Confidence pills. These dumbass eighth-grade boys had no idea what they were for, which is the true story of how a fourteen-year-old ends up hospitalized for an erection.”

Dad stares at me as if I just told him that aliens walk among us and I was planning to invite one to dinner next time. “Did Viktor tell you that?”

I shake my head. “Knight told me.”

Dad drains his wine glass in silence. The man is visibly shooketh. “I never knew your brother was involved,” he says at last.

“He was following bro code or some shit. Viktor’s actually a really good guy, Dad.”

“Good enough to warrant attention from my only daughter?” Dad asks.

I nod, thinking back over the last few weeks. “He came to get me when I lost a patient and was too wrecked to drive. He gave me his bed and took the couch when I fled Knight’s condo after the… sexident. He makes me tea and spoils me. When I lost Mick’s dog tags, he rounded up the whole team to tear the bar apart and find them. He talked me through a PTSD episode.”

That last point in particular catches Dad’s attention. “Really? That’s something.”

The silence that follows is thick. That kind of care doesn’t come from obligation. It doesn’t come from friendship. It comes from intention. From love. From someone who shows up when it’s ugly and scary and hard.

That’s when I hit him with the kicker. “Plus, twelve years ago, Molly tried to punish him with community service time volunteering for the Special Olympics… and he’s still doing it.”

It’s dark enough that I can’t see Dad’s face clearly, but his profile is thoughtful. “I’m beginning to think you’re in love with Viktor.”

I consider what he said and how I’m feeling. What I have with Viktor isn’t as intense and thrilling as what I had with Mick, but so much of that relationship was built on surviving dangerous situations. I was younger then. I had less baggage, and less sense of self. I’ll never know if my relationship with Mick could have survived the real world, and comparing the two is pointless.

Viktor has been a part of my life for as long as I remember. I want him to continue to be part of it for as long as possible.

“Shit,” I whisper, more to myself than to him. “I think I do.”

It’s not a lightning bolt. Not fireworks. It’s steadier than that. Warmer. Like finally spotting a lighthouse you didn’t know you were searching for.

Dad rises to his feet and holds out a hand to me. “We should go in and tell your mother that I’m letting this go. I am sorry about what I said earlier, Knova. It was out of line.”

I take his hand and let him pull me up. “We all make mistakes. I forgive you.”

He snorts. “Smartass.”

“Geezer,” I retort. “But, about my feelings for Viktor… could you please not tell Mom yet? I will. Soon. When I’m ready, and she’s not mad at you.”

“My lips are sealed, kiddo,” Dad promises.

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