Page 62 of Vulnerate

“You stupid fucking cunt!”

Viktor has finished washing his hands and he looks at the door as though he can see through it.Dickhead is scaring his own son. Going to him, I crouch down and try to ignore the sound of someone clearly being punched as Val issues threats.

“Hey,” I say softly, “it’s okay, they’re just talking.”

It’s bullshit, we both know it is and he tries not to laugh at my obvious lie. His smile forces out his dimple, the only thing he has from Carly that isn’t muted by his dads genes.He gently places both of his hands on my shoulders and tilts his head to the side, acting like I’m the child as he says, “They’re fighting. Don’t worry my dad will win.”

There’s so much pride in his declaration. He’s such a cute kid it’s easy to forget who he’s grown up around. Curses fly from both of the shitheads outside and I guide him away, not wanting to corrupt him before he’s had the chance to grow.

Sitting him on the sofa I do what I’ve seen my tia do, impart knowledge or whatever shit adults are supposed to.

“Adults say bad words sometimes, but you’re not supposed to repeat them okay?”

Do all adults feel like they’re talking shit when speaking to a child? I curse and I don’t think it’s a reflection on someone’s character, but I still attempt to teach him different.

He pinches his lips between his teeth, still trying not to laugh, but it floats around his words.

“I’m allowed to swear. Only if I use them right.” He points out random objects and demonstrates the correct way to curse. “Pass the effing salt, or effing paper isn’t right. If I was angry or hurt then it’s fine.”

I settle into a role I have no idea on how to perform and sound uncertain to my own ears as I nod, “Well, if you make a mistake or it slips out wrong I won’t shout at you.”

The laugh escapes this time, loud and folding him in half. I must be doing okay if I made my nephew laugh.His mannerisms are exactly like Val’s, his eyes are darker but the way he shakes his head and sighs after is his father’s double.

“You’re not scary, Vlad’s scary and he wouldn’t even shout at me.”

I don’t disagree with him because his uncle possesses the quality of making people piss their pants while he’s smiling. He’s not affected by their violent traits or the fact there’s a literal fight happening outside the door. Instead, he tells me all the new words he’s learnt in Portuguese. There’s never a reference to his mom but he knows his culture, both parts equally. I know whose influence it is when he dives forward and pulls a box of brigadeiro out of his bag.

Val storms back in with bloody knuckles and Viktor holds the box up in offering without batting an eye at the destruction to his dads hands. He softens his voice, and my heart, as he ruffles his son’s hair and gently says, “I’m good little man, I need to talk to Dani, eat your treats, so Tali doesn’t sniff them out.”

I stream the kids show he watches to keep him occupied and follow Val into the hallway.Nerves flood me when I haven’t done anything wrong. He’s too big and shirtless. There’s blood on his chest but it makes me feel safe because I’m a dumb fuck. The softness doesn’t stay when we’re alone and he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Who’s the dickhead?”

He’s so pretty.

I blink up at him while my mind tries to focus, and it turn my answer into a question.

“You?”

His lips quirk but he stops any further humor from showing despite how he softens as he pinches my cheek.

“Very cute, answer the question, rodnaya.” He lowers his voice with the accusation and takes half a step closer. “Why was some dumb cunt on your door asking for his things back?”

Satisfaction fills me and I look up, smiling widely at the memory. “Because I burnt them.”

I’m not a totally heartless prick and there was nothing sentimental, but it doesn’t take away from seeing it burn.

He moves his head back as he assesses me like I’m a new person and laughs. “I always thought you were good, sweet little Dani not a fire starter.”

There’s no insult but I bristle the same and straighten my shoulders. “Just because I’m a nice person doesn’t mean I’m a doormat.”

People equate manners and morals with being weak, it’s not. It takes some inner fortitude to not hurt people when all your hands want to do is inflict pain. I chose the same route with my family, sat there with them despite never actually existing to a single one of them. It would have been easy to point out every flaw, scream and shout about how unfair they were. Biting my tongue was harder but I’m an adult now, one who knows there’s a delicate balance when controlling yourself. If you keep bearing down on the muscle and never speaking it will cut off. So, I exercise restraint and only remove the pressure of my teeth to keep it attached.

Val strokes my cheek, pride in his eyes and his lips lift in a gentle smile. He doesn’t say anything as he traces my features, and his smile increases as he reaches my neck. His thumb ends up on my cheekbone and he stares into my eyes. The air thickens the longer he stares at me, and he whispers an innocent question like it’s indecent.

“Do you like horses?”

It’s a dumb question, everyone likes them, they’re majestic and powerful. I don’t trust my voice and nod, but his smile gets wider, and he kisses my cheek. “Come with us, Dani mine.”

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