Page 90 of Viripotent

I pull my knife back because there’s no conversation that can be had with crazy. I hold it between my finger and thumb and taunt her back.

“I don’t fight weaker opponents.”

There’s something familiar about the way she bristles at the insult and tries to fight me, declaring the same. It takes a second to figure it out and my laugh bursts free. This psycho is me, she’s a dumb fuck teenager but everything down to her attitude is thesame as me.Minus her ability because she’s been caught, and I actually had the ability to back up my confidence.

The reminder comes through again with more urgency.

“Two minutes.”

Grabbing the kid by the throat, I drag her with me as she punches into my side. Whoever trained her is good. She can pack a punch and knows the correct parts to hit. It’s a shame she’s outmatched. I shake her entire body with my hold on her neck.

“Calm the fuck down, I’m helping you.”

She refuses to listen, and I lose the little patience I held and slam her into the wall as the countdown continues in my ear.

She’s angry and her glare is pure murder, but I smile back, having seen it too many times on every fucker’s features I’ve met.

“You can stop being a crazy bitch or I can leave you here. In ninety seconds, the fuckers who were using this place will turn up and you look young enough to suit their clients’ requirements.”

She punches into my elbow, and I let her go as she makes a decision to get the fuck out.

There isn’t ninety seconds with having a five minute buffer in place, but the freaky kid doesn’t need to know that. If she wants to be whored out, she can feel free to wait for her new owners. It’s her fucking choice.I’m not her fucking savior.

Rushed booted footsteps follow after me and Anastasia raises her brows, seeing the tag along as I leave the warehouse. She doesn’t say any names with the newcomer and the location being too dangerous.

“He left straight away, there were eight in total.”

Nodding as pipsqueak glares at her getaway, I kick her in the shin, trying to get her to be respectful. The glare moves to me, and I don’t remove my mask or threat in my question.

“What’s your name?”

She shows her age as she crosses her arms over her chest.

“Princess Olive Appleknees The Third.”

I kick her harder and she fists her hands, trying to stop herself from rubbing the sting away. But her outburst can’t be tempered as she climbs into the van.

“Stop fucking kicking me. What are you two years old?”

Her outburst has her accent becoming discernible.

Feeling smug that she’s slipped up, I copy her position and ask again.

“Kak vas zovut?”

Her anger comes out at the fuck up and she spits back, “Khuy tebe.”

My booted foot hits her ankle at the curse and I wait until we’re far enough not to be spotted to get our driver’s attention. She pulls to an abrupt stop, and I lift the little shit by her nape.

“Get the fuck off, you pervert!” She screeches.

She tries to fight me like a pathetic fuck as I drop her on the side of the road. There’s too much humor in my voice as I mimic her attempt at advice.

“I’ll give you a tip, don’t use teeth when you’re trying to pay for a ride home.”

I’m childish because I feel better having the upper hand and slam the door closed as we drive away.

Goingthrough the house takes longer than before and Vitali sleeps like a fucking animal. Straightening his sheets, I press my fingers to his forehead, making sure there’s no chill, and leave the pig to his sty. Each room I walk through makes me relax slightly until I get to Viktor’s room. His bed is empty, the sheets are rumpled, but he doesn’t sleep on my floor unless he knowsI’m going to be home. Going into Valentin’s room, I see them laid together. The son is more independent while his dad cuddles him in a death grip. I should have bought him a teddy and he might not choke his own kid out.

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