Smoke and Shadows by Victoria Paige Page B

catch some bad guys after all.  
    It was then that Viktor looked up, stunning her with the raw emotion etched on his face. She didn’t know how to feel. Were those feelings for her or Nadia? No doubt, it was the latter. She had to get out of here before she lost all dignity.
    “Nadia was Carl’s younger sister,” Viktor stated flatly.
    “Carl? Your best friend? Maia’s foster father?”
    “Yes.”
    “So—what? She was a high school sweetheart? Your first love you couldn’t forget?” Marissa said with much vitriol.
    When Viktor remained silent, Marissa uttered a sound of disgust and headed for the door. Just as she reached the exit, his words stopped her cold.
    “Nadia was twelve when she died. I killed her.”

    *****
    The nightmare of thirty years ago unfolded clearly in Viktor’s mind. He’d buried that hellish day deep down inside him, but recent events dragged every detail back to the surface of his consciousness.
    “Viktor, I’m sorry,” Marissa whispered. She looked contrite, but he had to tell her the truth regardless of how ugly it was, because letting her walk away was not an option. Not over this. He couldn’t mislead her about who Nadia was to him to protect a shameful secret.  
    “I never told you about my past,” Viktor began. When she started to protest, he held up a palm and said, “Iz, it’s now or never. I won’t be able to dredge this shit up again.” He took a deep breath and continued, “My parents were Slovenian immigrants. We lived in a housing project near Baltimore. My father was a dock worker.” He paused. “But he moonlighted as a pimp.”
    Marissa turned solid. Viktor smiled grimly. “My story ain’t pretty, sweetheart. One day, my father couldn’t get a woman for his customer, so he brought him home.”  
    “Viktor—you don’t have to,” Marissa’s voice cracked, but he went on. “He let that bastard use my mother. I tried to intervene, but my father was a big man, and I was still a scrawny kid. He beat the shit out of me. Afterward, my mother assured me that it would never happen again. But I had my suspicions that she was just protecting me because I would see bruises on her every now and then.”
    Viktor seethed at the memory.
    “How old were you when it happened?”
    “Fourteen. I met Carl in school and we became fast friends. I spent so much time with his family. I dreaded going home. Nadia—Carl’s sister—was four years younger than us and she loved to tag around, tomboy that she was. She was the sister I never had.”
    He had the sudden urge to feel Marissa around him so he leaned forward and grabbed her—having her back flushed to his naked front. He ducked his head to inhale her scent, before he continued, “For two years, they were like the family I’d always wanted. Their parents became my parents. I spent time with them when I knew my father was working in the docks. I was happy with them, carefree. But I’d feel guilty, leaving my mother with no one to defend her from my worthless, piece of shit father, so I always went home.”
    “You were fourteen,” Marissa reminded him. “What could you have done?”
    “Probably nothing,” Viktor said. “I tried to talk my mother into leaving. Just the two of us. I didn’t get why she needed to stay with him. I still don’t. When I turned sixteen, I had a massive growth spurt and my body filled out. My father started avoiding me. But one day, I came home and found some man raping my mother on the couch. And my father was watching the entire time, yelling at my mother to shut up and just take it.”
    His fists clenched, the memory spiking a simmering rage
    “Oh, my God, Viktor,” Marissa gripped his arms that were wrapped around her. “You don’t have to tell me, baby.”
    “I saw nothing but red haze as I dragged that man off her. Still, I was no match for my father and both of them fucked me up real good, cracked several ribs and messed up my face. I couldn’t move for a week, so I