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Baran’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not going to like it, am I?”
The kid knew him all too well. “Depends on what you like. How do you feel about babysitting duty?”
***
After giving Baran his final instructions, Viking went to join Kristoff. That’s when Vicky intercepted him in the hallway. The girl was damn stealthy and he hadn’t noticed her until it was too late.
With her hands on her hips, she scowled. “Are you avoiding me?”
Yeah, he was. “Why would I do that?”
“Because I haven’t seen you since I told you who I am. It has been four days.”
He led the way into the nearest room, not wanting to have their talk out in the open.
She followed suit and settled on the couch across from him. When he saw the red-painted walls, he realized he had walked into Kristoff’s resident ‘war room.’
Funny how his feet had taken him here. Judging by Vicky’s face, she was ready for a battle. Thing was, he didn’t know how to talk to the kid. Their first encounter hadn’t gone well. No, that was an understatement. Their first meeting had been a disaster. He’d lost it, and was surprised she hadn’t run for the hills. Not that he would let her out of his sight, ever. She was in his life now, and he’d take care of her.
“We good?” he asked.
“Why wouldn’t we be?”
He sighed. “I scared you.”
“It wasn’t exactly fun seeing you lose it like that, but, well—” She stopped mid-sentence, her cheeks coloring.
“Finish your sentence.”
She looked at the door, a hint of panic on her face, and in that moment, he hated himself a bit.
“I don’t think I should.”
“Vicky. Look at me.” He grabbed her hand and was thankful she didn’t pull back. “I lost my shit. I wish I hadn’t, and I’ll try my damn best to prevent that from happening again. You don’t know me yet, but you can tell me anything without having to fear I will ever hurt you. So, what were you going to say?”
“Um, that I didn’t like seeing you freak out, but knew you wouldn’t hurt me.” She eyed him closely. “Mom said that you were like a tornado. Beautiful to look at, dangerous to the ones around you, but never to the ones closest to you, the ones that stand in the eye. She said that to you, I would always stand in the tornado’s eye.”
He wasn’t sure how to react to that. It was beautiful, and poetic, only the way Elena could be. At the same time, it only made everything worse by reminding him of what he’d lost.
“How long have you known that Lorenzo wasn’t your dad?” It couldn’t be that she’d just found out. There was no way he was the only one shellshocked.
She seemed to ponder this for a second. He could see the intelligence in her eyes. And the gentleness. The girl barely knew him and was already taking his feelings into account. He had to step up, do better. He couldn’t afford any more outbursts in front of her, or else his tornado would turn into a tsunami, hurting her.
“Um, I guess I kind of always knew,” Vicky confessed. “Lorenzo hardly spent any time with me, and we don’t exactly look alike. Then, one day, I overheard him talking to Mom. She was angry he wanted to ship me off to boarding school. He told her he had to because, every day, I looked more and more like that effing Viking, and people might notice.”
So, Morelli had known Vicky wasn’t his kid. He wondered when he’d discovered that ugly truth. He must have been so disappointed.
“Did he hurt you?” Once again, he regretted killing the bastard too quickly, too easily.
“Mom would never allow that. He mostly just ignored me.”
“When did you find out I was your dad?” He still couldn’t believe Elena had kept this secret from him. She had so much to answer for.
“Mom told me a few days before Lorenzo died. I think she knew something bad was going to happen to him.”
She eyed him curiously, and he knew what she was asking without actually asking.
“The something bad being me,” he admitted.
