Page 79 of Vulnerate

She wanted more money

Vlad:

Did you deal with it?

I couldn’t, Dani was there and she was upset

He looks up from his phone, then narrows his eyes at me, making the paste flake off his face. His thumbs rapidly slap off the screen without looking away from me and I hold my middle finger up.

Tali:

Why were you with her?

She’s not part of any of this shit

Is she okay?

Did cunt face do anything to her?

Are you in love with her or some shit?

I was there, she’s fine.

Tali:

We’re not all like you and need to fuck someone to want them around

Vlad:

How are you having a tantrum when you’re typing?

I’M NOT HAVING A FUCKING TANTRUM

The bastard smirks and raises one brow before verbalizing his dickish ways.

Vlad:

Go have one of your bubble baths and come to the office when you’re done.

It’s going to be the same cryptic ass conversation, but I agree and stand. Viktor’s head is already dropping, so I take him with me. They must have ran out of the gentle face mask shit because he has moisturizer all over his face and it soaks through my shirt as I take him to his bedroom. He’s always tired now that he’s started going to school and he's not sat on his ass bored all day. Getting him ready for bed, I wipe it away and try not to wake him as I change his clothes. It doesn’t work and his eyes droop, but that little smile is enough to kill for as he looks at me without fear.

“Do you need cuddles?” he asks.

I nod and kiss his head. “Yeah, little man.”

He wraps his little arms that are bigger each day around me and stops being so independent for once as he yawns. “I miss watching movies in your bed.”

Today must be the day everyone decides to wreck me because he turns sad and asks, “Why don’t I have a mom?”

Because she’s a cunt.

Stroking his hair back, I sit at the end of his bed, hoping he falls asleep so I don’t have to answer. Schools are meant to educate, not point out differences. I’ve seen the way he looks at other people when I pick him up, watches the other kids with their mothers, but there’s no longing when he does it, just confusion.

I keep my voice low when he stares at me, waiting for an answer I can’t give him. So, I deflect. “Want to talk about it in the morning when you’re not half asleep?”

And I’ve had enough time to come up with some bullshit.

He’s never been clingy, even as a baby he was too independent, but he hugs me tighter without getting off my lap. His little arms cling to me, his fingers gripping the back of my shirt, and he whispers, “Promise?”

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