Page 19 of Viktor

“Good Lord,” she muttered. “How did your mother survive?”

“She terrified us.” Viktor laughed. “For such a small woman, she had the power to make us feel ashamed of ourselves with just a look. We did not want to disappoint her.”

“No sisters?” This was from Ben.

Viktor studied him a moment before responding. The boy looked like Roger, but his eyes didn’t have that same slimy snake oil salesman quality. The fact he sat here having dinner with them spoke more about the person he was and the relationship he had to Sara than anything else. He only hoped he wouldn’t get in the way of taking Roger down.

“Something for which we’re all grateful. She would never have made it out of the house with a date. One or more of us would have escorted her on each and every one.”

“Your women are important to you, then?” Ben asked, his expression calculating.

“Of course. They are the most precious people in the world to us. They’re to be protected and cherished at all costs. Just ask my sister-in-law, Angel. Sometimes she gets so aggravated with us, you can tell by her expression she’s contemplating what it would feel like to strangle us.”

Ben finally cracked a smile at that. He picked up Delia’s knife and helped her cut up her porkchop when he saw her struggling with it. “I’ve already started buying guns and bullets for this one.”

Viktor nodded wisely. “Got to start early and make sure the pups know what’s waiting for them if they get a little too handsy.”

“Really?” Sara rolled her eyes at them both. “She’s only six.”

“So?” They said in unison, and Roy laughed.

“I like you, son. I really do.”

“If you have a few minutes after dinner, Mr. Grafton, I need to talk to you about security here at the farm.”

“Please, call me Roy. Gabe and I already talked about it. Do what you need to do to keep my girls safe.”

“It’ll mean installing a security system,” he warned. “Sara said you might be resistant to the idea.”

“I was,” Roy said truthfully. “I’ve lived here all my life and never needed one of them. Old Bertha was always good enough.”

“Old Bertha?”

“My shotgun,” he clarified and took a sip of his beer. “She usually gets the point across.”

“Pawpawl loves his guns.” Delia chewed her food and spoke at the same time.

“Pawpawl found your mama’s BB gun up in the attic. ’Bout time you learned to shoot too.”

“Roy, she’s a baby. She doesn’t need to be knowing a thing about guns.” The censure in his wife’s voice didn’t deter him, much to his credit.

“Sara could shoot by her age, Sue Anne. It’s time.”

“It’s good for her to learn about guns early, Mrs. Grafton.” Viktor decided to butt in before an argument broke out. “If she learns to respect them at this age, it’s something that will stick with her. My father had us all shooting pistols by the time we were her age and taught us proper gun safety. If you’re going to have guns around kids, they need to understand how to use them and to respect them. Keeps accidents from happening.”

He saw Ben and Gabe nodding in agreement as they ate. Sara’s mother’s lips thinned, but she let it drop, knowing she was outnumbered.

The issue of guns and children was something Viktor was passionate about. Seeing all the school shootings happening in the US was a severe cause for concern, and it made him sometimes rethink his position on making sure kids were exposed to guns so they could learn the dos and don’ts, but something his father said to him always made sense. There’s no such thing as an unloaded gun. If you were going to have a gun and ammunition in your home alongside children, you’d best make sure they understood the potential damage a gun could do to them or someone else.

As a society, people needed to dig in and find the root cause of what was happening in America and these school shootings. Keep the guns locked away from those who were disturbed and depressed, but don’t stop teaching kids proper gun safety. It kept tragic accidents from happening. Plain and simple. And for the love of God, keep the guns and bullets behind lock and key. So many kids got hold of guns just lying in a drawer somewhere.

“Sara and I were talking about it earlier.” Roy reached for his beer again, his eyes lidded. “We both agree that while we keep our guns locked up, Delia needs to know so she won’t hurt someone if she ever gets her hands on one of them.”

“You have a gun?” Surprised, he looked to Sara, who hadn’t really said much the entire dinner.

“No, but I’m getting one.” Her mother’s shocked gasp didn’t go undetected, but Sara ignored it. “I’m never going to be helpless again.”

“Both Gabe and I will be armed while we’re here.” He directed this at Roy. “We have carry permits in New York, and I’ve already applied for ones here in Virginia. We’re just waiting on them to come through before we strap our weapons on. I wanted to warn you all so you wouldn’t be shocked to see it.”

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