Page 38 of Vulnerate

“Dad, tell him to make his own.”

Before I can tell Tali to fuck off, he scoffs and leans back. “What’s your dad going to do?” He drops his voice to a stage whisper as I kiss the top of my son’s head. “Your dad’s a little bitch.”

My arm cocks back and my fingers slap the back of Tali’s head with enough force to make my fingers sting, but he shuts the fuck up.It makes Viktor laugh too so it’s served a dual purpose.

I’m not telling him about Dani, he’ll get all happy and bring her around. She threw herself at me, literally flew through the air and wrapped herself around me like she didn’t say my son was cursed. The fucking bitch. Even if she was hurt, got fucking tortured and felt like her heart was ripped out she proved she isn’t the Dani I loved by spewing her shit. My Dani was sweet, good, and pure hearted.

I sit beside my kid and pull him into my side as Tali gets up to make his own food. Viktor looks up at me with his brows together and whispers, “You okay?”

He doesn’t relax as I nod and holds his spoon out in offering. Ruffling his hair, I give him a smile and push my anger aside. “I’m good little man, eat your food before the pig sniffs it out.”

Tali slumps in his seat across the table with a bowl of ice cream. “Fuck you, I’m not a fucking pig.”

The house is different with my sister-in-law and her bark could rival Vlad’s as she seethes, “Language!”

She’s not even in the room for fuck’s sake. Her obsession with wrapping Viktor in cotton wool is funny as fuck. He’s a good kid, despite the influences he has, he knows that if he wants to curse, he can but he chooses not to. I was a dumbass kid raising him, I’m lucky he knows his own name when I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing.

Her heels click against the floor, and she takes a seat opposite Tali, crossing her arms over her chest. Unwilling to take any shit, her tone hardens further as she looks between me and my brother and asks, “Who is Dani?”

My heart rate speeds up. She couldn’t have saw us. I fucked up and didn’t think but no one came out.Why do I care? It’s not on me, but the thought of anyone seeing Dani fucks with my head because she’s mine even if I hate her.

Tali shows her importance by not stuffing his face for once and drops his spoon with a dopey ass smile.

“Dani’s my best friend.” He sounds like a kid, there’s never been a change in her title. He doesn’t speak of her in the past tense and my anger increases when he continues, “Basically, my other half, why?”

She’s not his other half. She’s mine.Wasmine.

Inessa opens her mouth and gives Tali everything he has ever wanted. “Vlad was talking to her today at the gallery, were they friendly?”

She’s barely finished speaking and he’s already standing, the change in his behavior has Viktor’s attention and my kid stares wide eyed at the plate Tali has left on the table.

“Whoa, he stopped eating.”

It’s not an insignificant observation, I’ve seen him wash one hand in the warehouse so he can have a snack between torture. Even Vlad keeps treats in his pocket for the puppy and Dima has been forced to feed him by hand in between relays when Tali’s wraps are covered in sweat and blood.

Tali’s limp is more pronounced as he rushes out of the house, and I follow after him. He’s already in the car and I grab the edge before it can close. “Where are you going?”

He sighs at me inconveniencing him, then speaks slow like I’m an idiot. “To see Dani.” He softens and lowers his voice so none of the guards overhear. “I get that you’re still pissed about Carly. You’d be heartbroken every time you came back from seeing her but that’s got nothing to do with her. Or me. I’m not letting your heartbroken ass stop me getting my girl back.”

It has everything to do with the liar and I’m not heartbroken. I’ve never corrected my brothers’ assumptions that I felt anything for Carly. I don’t, I never will, but it was easier than telling them that I have only ever loved one woman and she ruined me. Tali would be distraught with the knowledge of everything the Carvalho sisters had planned, especially if he knew that his little fucking friend is a bitter cunt who said my son was better off dead than with us.

Every fucking visit to Carly broke me because of Dani. Her lies being revealed were the final straw of what wrecked me because my Dani wouldn’t have done that shit. It all comes back, the comments, her messages showing what she really thought about me, all because she wanted to get my brothers attention. That’s who Dani really wanted, my brother who has never viewed her as anything romantic.

I step back and let him go. I hope he fucks her, sees my cum already marking her as mine. It’s dumb as fuck, I know he doesn’t see her like that. Their friendship never crossed lines into more, but I hate that they’re going to be together. That all of her little feelings will come out for him when they should only be directed at me. I hate that she still isn’t mine, but she let me fuck her.

Most of all, I hate myself for still wanting her.

The only thing that can distract me and stop the need to turn into some stalker is sat in the house, so I go back to Viktor. He’s finished eating his ice cream, and he has his sketchpad on the table as he watches his show. Without looking up from whatever he’s drawing, he asks, “Can I watch you do the new tattoo?” Grabbing the tablet, I pick him up and he holds his drawing while whining, “I’m not a baby.”

My kid is going to hit double digits soon and I wish he was still in diapers, but he’s wrong. He’ll always be my little baby and I hug him tighter as I kiss the top of his head.

“I know, little man. Which one did you pick?” I ask to distract us both.

He doesn’t try to be put down when he knows I won’t do it, and he rattles through the different designs he’s thought of as I walk to our floor. Ever since his eyes settled on a color and he’d trace my tattoos he’s been obsessed with them. My body is made up of my rankings and whatever images he wants to put on me. It’s the only reason I know how to do them because I didn’t want him to be in the tattoo shop around the other fuckers.

He only wriggles to be on his feet once we enter the room I have set up as a tattoo studio and he drops his sketchpad on the side table. “I’ll do the stencil.”

My kid is grown up, more grown up than me, and he washes his hands like I taught him before putting on his gloves. Once he’s ready, he turns to me and smiles. “Can you do it on your face?”

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