It had been difficult to face initially, but after time, and after Chapter One, he accepted who and what he was– a selfish, emotionally disconnected asshole like his mother and a heartless motherfucker like his father. The small part of him that was good, the part that Elsa claimed held his inner light, wasn’t near enough to overcome all the other fucked-up parts of him.
But that benevolent part, the one that was begging to come out, was growing a set of balls. He could feel it. That suppressed inner voice had been quiet for many years. Until Chapter Eight. And now, as he sat there, finalizing her birthday party, that voice had legs. Determination. Power.
And Mr. Black didn’t like it.
Glancing at his case file and the correspondence Anthony had received the past week, his gut clenched with one of his intuitions that foreshadowed something bad. Or something really good - like a big break in a case. After all his years of being an FBI Agent, he had never quite figured out how to hone in on that feeling and decipher it. He just knew it meant something and to keep his eyes open.
He made one last phone call regarding his birthday plans for Elsa, when his father popped into his head. That seemed to be happening a lot lately. Undoubtedly, because of what she was putting him through. After the foreboding feeling he had just experienced, he couldn’t help but wonder if it had something to do with him.
From everything he learned about his father, and seen firsthand, there were similarities in personality traits, most especially his tendency toward sadism. However, he wasn’t his father and he knew that deep down. Not in the same context as being a murderer, anyway. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why he had chosen criminal psychology as his field of study. He wanted to keep people like himself and his parents off the streets, and to make a difference in the world.
He laughed under his breath, a derisive, self-loathing sort of chuckle. He sure as hell had made a difference in the world of his Chapters. And not a good one.
*
Victor’s nerves prickled with excited energy as he looked at his watch. Elsa was meeting him in a few minutes and by the people gathering at Grace Street Brewery, everything was falling into place. When he saw Nathan enter the establishment, he ducked out of sight. His plan was to just hang back and watch the festivities from afar. Like he always did.
Right on time, she pulled into a parking space and exited her vehicle. When she approached him with a wary smile, a pang of longing shot through him.
“Happy birthday,” he tugged her close and into a darkened area.
Her body shivered from the cold wind and she tucked herself into him for heat.
“Thanks for reminding me,” she wrinkled her nose.
His mouth touched hers in the darkness. “You age well, Peach.”
Guiding her to the entrance of the pub, he gently pushed her inside where the small group was waiting, and then backed away before anyone could see him.
He heard the loud voices all wishing her a happy birthday and could hear the surprise in her voice. He moved across the bar to get a better look at her face as she mingled around. As he watched her interact with her friends, just for once he wanted to be a normal person, to have normal problems and live a normal life. Normalcy. Something so simple, but seemingly so far out of reach…
When he saw her glance over her shoulder several times, he knew what she was looking for. Him. He had seen her do it hundreds of times. Or was it thousands? He had lost track. He just knew that she was looking for him. And he liked it.
Yes, he was there, prowling and lurking the way he had done so many times before, but this time it was different. Maybe not for her, but it was for him. He wasn’t there to make her feel uncomfortable, although unquestionably she was since Nate was in such close proximity.
Whatever.
It wasn’t about that insignificant prick tonight. It wasn’t about Mr. Black either. It was about Elsa and seeing a genuine smile on her face for a change.
He had just settled in and ordered a drink when he heard an angry, voice next to him.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
Victor spun on his barstool to face a man several inches shorter than himself who looked vaguely familiar.
“I don’t care who you are and what you do for a living, if you hurt my sister again, I’ll kill you.”
Nick Cassidy. He had sent him an email invite under the pretense of being Nathan. But how the hell did Nick know who he was?
He took a cleansing breath in and tried his best to look poised and relaxed. “Threatening a federal agent? I thought you were a bright man.”
“I am bright and I’m not threatening – I’m stating a fact. Get the fuck out of here and leave. Elsa. Alone.
Victor took another deep breath as his equanimity wavered. If it was that easy, he would’ve done it. Fucking hell, he had already tried and failed miserably. As they silently stared at one another, his statement came unbidden. “I care about her.”
The impact of the words that came out of his mouth stunned him. Why the hell did he feel the need to explain himself to her family? His mother had the same Goddamn affect on him the night his world came crashing down.
A vein throbbed in Nick’s forehead and he became flushed with fury. “Bullshit. The only thing you care about is the game.”
He winced and felt the blood drain from his face. “She told you about that?”
“Not directly,” he narrowed his eyes. “She wasn’t exactly lucid when she mentioned it. She had to be sedated more than once because of what you did to her.”
He pinched his brows together. “Didn’t you know that? Didn’t you know that you sent her into a mental break down? I thought you knew everything Agent Laurenzo. Or is it Agent Black?”
Victor’s throat clenched tight and for a split second he saw spots in his vision. Of course she hadn’t told him. To admit weakness to him would put her at risk of being debased by Mr. Black. But Victor wouldn’t allow it. Not this time. And he would never tell her that he knew of her breakdown. He would simply wait for her to tell him herself.
Abruptly he turned to walk away, unable to look into the eyes of another man who clearly cared about Elsa.
A hand on his upper arm whirled him around. “If you truly care about her, then leave her alone. She doesn’t have the common sense to know when something or someone is going to hurt her. She never has. Despite her tough girl image, she’s fragile.”
Nick wasn’t telling him anything he didn’t already know. But Nick was wrong. She was strong and fragile. A devastating combination.
Nick’s body swayed as he waited for Victor’s response and he no longer looked angry, but war torn as he pleaded for his sister’s sanity. Mr. Black wanted to pummel him for putting his hands on him, but Victor felt every word Nick spoke, every raw emotion. It was a jolt to his system to see what a family member should be – protective, loving and unconditionally accepting.
“I can’t,” Victor croaked out.
“Why the fuck am I even trying to reason with you, you son-of-a-bitch,” Nick shoved against his chest.
“Yes, I am a son-of-a-bitch, but I need her and I don’t give a shit about what you think of me,” he finally found the nerve to speak at a normal volume. Straightening up and puffing his chest out, he took a step toward Nick as Mr. Black fought his way to the forefront. “You need to back the fuck off. The decision isn’t yours. It’s hers. And she chooses to be with me.”
Nick huffed in disbelief. “I’m not buying that for one fucking second.”