Page 79 of Viripotent

“What did you say?”

I’ve never been good at backing down and I don’t deny the shit I say or do. She becomes the queen again and rages when I repeat myself.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? When your neurotic behavior comes out, it’s fine because you’re a man. But I can’t act however I want without it being down to my uterus?”

The privacy screen can’t be trusted, neither can the driver, and I hold my hand over her mouth before she spews more shit. Inessa does something she’s never done before. She freezes in pure fear. Her eyes go wide, and she hyperventilates instead of trying to bite me. Falling limp, tears line her lashes, and she doesn’t blink in terror of me.Her breathing turns ragged, and she shrinks inside of herself.

That look usually bolsters me. On my wife’s features it has the opposite effect and I slowly let her go. I’ve never been a choir boy or remotely good, but I don’t want her fear. She’s family now, the same as my brothers and nephew. They are the only people who I will protect, even from myself.

I focus back on the details Dima has found and allow the person- sized gap between us. All my anger will be released on the sick fuckers who can’t help themselves watching what they shouldn’t. We slowly roll to a stop, and I don’t look at her as I get out of the car. Going to her side, I take a step back and open the door for her to get out without having to pass me. The iceprincess is back as she straightens her shoulders and steps out with her head held high. It’s cold and her legs are bare, but I don’t offer her any warmth as we take the steps into the jet.

She takes the seat opposite me rather than going into the back to get away and I’ve given up trying to understand the woman. When she only knew my reputation she wasn’t afraid, but now she keeps flinching and is unable to meet my eyes. It can’t be because of her failed attempt at fucking when I haven’t touched her since. Fuck it, she can sit in her weird-ass thoughts and I plan the gruesome end I’ll give the new opponents for the entire flight. The relay matches began as a way for me to weed out the weak within my group. Pairing up two teams of three in death matches was also entertaining, but now it’s too easy to add the sick fucks into trios, knowing they’ll get demolished while I sit back and watch.

When we land, I look up and Inessa is curled up on her seat, scrolling on her phone. I don’t make the mistake of attempting to talk to her and take the steps two at a time, eager to get to Vanya as everything goes blank. It’s strange not being here while there’s snow on every surface and I make it to her in half the time without the car skidding. The ground is alive, pointing out how the people under it aren’t and the old bitch who used to live next door to us crosses the street with a rosary gripped in her fist. The stupid cunt never gave her prayers when my brothers were bruised and bloody, she never uttered a fucking word at that shit, but she’s all fucking religious now, the hypocrite.She spits when she sees that I’ve noticed her, and I leave that particular cunt to die for another day.

My mind quietens as I take my usual seat and the stone is warm against my lips as I greet the only one who deserves it. She’s the best part of my life, the best part of me, and I hold her headstone, needing any connection I can get. I still remember the first day I saw her, held her. Black raven hair and huge eyesas she blinked awake, staring up at me. From that moment on, Vanya became everything. Introducing her to Valya and Vitya when they were too young to remember. Seeing them hug her and kiss her cheek, trying to be gentle while I snuck her in their room and our parents were getting drunk or laid.

Apology fills my tone as I rest my temple on the edge of her headstone. “They still love you, solnyshkuh, I promise. They were too young to remember, but we all still love you.”

A low hum begins in my throat matching her favorite song, she’d always laugh when I sung bayu bayushki. She’d put her hands on my face and laugh with her eyes sparkling. I wish I could hold her once more, just once, and kiss her cheek while she was still warm. My palm goes to the back of the headstone, and I make circles as if it’s her back, exactly how she liked.

I sit up and feel the need to explain my sudden visit. My voice is low and my eyes alert in case any fucker approaches.

“Inessa is on the plane and waiting for me, I can’t sit for long.”

It’s irrational when she can’t reply or hear me, but I need to do it. If I don’t she doesn’t exist, and her life means too much for it to be forgotten.

“You’d like her, you would probably be friends and laugh at the stupid things she says. She’d make you join in her pampering sessions.”

The alert goes off telling me it’s time to leave. I don’t move and emotion chokes me.

“Soon, solnyshkuh, then no one can take you from me again.”

Straightening my cuffs, I stand, and my feet are filled with lead. My heart is heavier than the last with each step I take awar from her, and I pick my sins back up. I want this fucking place to burn to ash, for every fucker who refused to help, to feel what it’s like to choke. The memories of laying by her grave for months,an hour at a time, before going back to that fucking house, fuel the need for destruction.

But I would give it all up for one hour of having her back.

THIRTY-ONE

Inessa

Watching Vlad literally kick the shit out of a poor woman has me jumping at sounds even though he’s nowhere to be seen. I don’t even give a fuck about whose bed the devil is slipping into. As long as he doesn’t touch me with that same brutality he used on Galya, I’ll survive.

Calling a private car to leave five minutes after him, I quicken my steps and stay hidden as the driver follows Vlad. Whatever he’s doing here isn’t business, but it’s important enough to lie and I need as much leverage as I can get to get out of this shit alive.

We stay three cars back. When he pulls up outside a church, I nearly laugh. He’s not some secret religious person and intrigue needles at me when he turns through large gates into the adjoining cemetery. The same fear in Moscow thickens the air and a woman clutches at a rosary as she crosses the road, not wanting to pass the devil.

He walks deeper into the dead and goes out of view. I can’t see anything with a large weeping willow tree covering his destination. The woman spits over her shoulder, not wanting to catch an evil spirit and nearly walks into me as she glares towards Vlad. She’s old enough to be my grandmother and her face softens as I move out of the way.

Testing my luck, I keep my voice low like the devil will know of my presence.

“Do you know him?”

She spits over her shoulder again, and whispers, “Dyavol, horrible man.”

There’s so much disgust in her voice, I tuck my hands into my coat pockets, so she doesn’t see the V branded on my finger and become aware of my association.

I’m sinking to lows I’d never had dreamed of and coax information out of her as I take the bag from her arms and carry it for her. The woman doesn’t stop cursing under her breath and her house is only three doors down, ensuring I’ll make a quick escape. She holds on to my arm as she walks, allowing me to hear her mumbling.

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