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“It was implied. That’s the whole thing about that damn word. Look it up or join the twins in their fucking word quest.”
“They don’t let me in on that,” Yuri complained. “Like they own the damn dictionary or something. Those two are so competitive. You should have seen them trying to outdo each other when they had to use hippocampus in a sentence. I tried to join in and they threatened to feed me to their gorilla, as if.”
“Let it go, Yuri. Let it the fuck go, or I’m gonna have a bullet with your name on it.”
Ever the survivalist, Yuri shut up after that. Viking got to take a fifteen-minute nap before they arrived back at Flux. He hadn’t gotten much sleep last night after he’d left Elena in their bed. It was either go back to work or turn back and fuck her senseless. He wouldn’t be gentle about it, either. Which she would like. Which, in its own way, was just fucked up. Sleeping with her gave him more pleasure than with any other woman. But doing so would reward her, and he didn’t marry her to make her feel better. Except now, he was caught in this entangled mess of a marriage that had started out as a means to both protect and hurt her, and he didn’t know how to deal with it. All he knew was, it was driving him crazy. He was already volatile on a sane day. How was he supposed to go at this without picking a fight, which would piss Kristoff off? Turns out, being married wasn’t for the faint-hearted. Those vows tied you to another human being for life, without any chance at parole. Then that person consumed all your thoughts, both the sane and insane ones.
Kristoff was already waiting in the back of the club, his desk filled with the club’s ledgers. It looked like he’d been crunching the numbers for some time now. When Viking sat across from him, Kristoff sent their accountant away, leaving only the two of them.
“You look like death out for a kill,” his friend greeted him.
The bastard could always read him like a book. It was one of his most annoying traits.
“Did the new girls stop by yet?” Viking asked, trying to change the subject. Two new potential strippers had applied last night and should be coming in for an audition today.
“Don’t know. I’m sure someone will send them over to you.” Kristoff’s eyes narrowed. “Married life doesn’t seem to suit you.”
“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” He was like a damn pit bull when he got into this mode.
Kristoff leaned back and put his feet on the table. “I see you struggling with your prickly bride, so I’m going to help you out. See, life is actually very simple. You make choices and they have consequences. For example, my mother chose to sleep with her boss; a married, American politician. The result was that when she got pregnant, he kicked her out of his life. Action, consequence. You locked up the woman you claim to hate.”
Viking gave him an acid look. “There’s no ‘claim.’ She betrayed me, so yeah, I do hate her.” He didn’t forgive or forget. Not that his body gave a damn. If possible, he wanted her more now than he did sixteen years ago. He had all the pussy in the world to choose from yet all his dick wanted was his treacherous wife, and wasn’t that just a little sad?
“You kidnapped her,” Kristoff continued, ignoring his rant. “And kept her under lock and key. You could have killed her. Could have handed her over to Vasili when he asked for her blood, but you didn’t. Instead, you made her your wife. You would have rather put a bullet into your brain than give her up. That’s how much you wanted to keep her. Now, you look like a man slighted. Like a man stuck in the past, though he wants to keep going forward.”
Viking looked at his watch. “You done?”
“Ever thought about why people find the Joker so fascinating?”
“Can’t say I have.” He was reminded once again that Kristoff was a bit cracked in the head. They all were, but no one hid their dark and twisted the way Kristoff could.
“Because he’s insane, absolutely certifiable, yet cunning, and he makes no excuses about it. People want to be him, even if only a little, even if they would never admit it out loud. Just imagine the life you’d have. Doing what you want, whenever you want, and not giving a fuck about the consequences. That’s freedom. That’s power. If he were real, we’d either be mortal enemies or great friends.”
Viking had no doubts about that. Then again, Kristoff was a morbid man. He could be friends with the Grim Reaper himself.
“Is there a point to this story?”
Kristoff cocked a brow. “Isn’t it obvious? Sometimes you need a bad guy to make a good story. Maybe Elena is your bad guy.”
He thought he knew where he was going with this. “So you’re saying it’s up to me how my story ends.”
“I’m saying, I think you’re keeping her in your life ‘cause she’s not boring. If you wanted predictable, you should’ve married an accountant or something. So, stop whining about it and take it like a man.”
Viking’s phone rang and he grabbed it out of his pocket. “I can’t wait until the day you get hitched.”
“I’m like Teflon when it comes to marriage.”
Viking was about to tell his friend what he could go do with himself when Baran’s words stopped him in his tracks.
“What the hell do you mean, she ran?”
“Bring Kristoff with you,” Baran said on the other end of the line. He sounded grim.
Viking eyed the man in question. “What do you need him for?”
“Trust me. He’ll want to be here.”
***
