Solitary

Chapter 72- Forgive and Forget You Not

"Have you talked to Nikolai?" I turn to see Victor at my open window.

The pets rushing over to greet him while Baby stays rooted in his spot on the couch, completely unbothered. Me, packing away all the things I could into bins so they could be shipped to Amsterdam sooner rather than later.

And it's been a week since I killed my father.

"Not really. Can't imagine you'd want to keep up conversation with someone who tossed a dismembered head at your feet." I say with a huff as I set the last packed bin down.

"He's been handling all of the press and people trying to find you. Handling things over seas too; It's the only reason why he hasn't been around."

Standing in the middle of my first apartment. Now barely containing a thing. All the paintings off the wall, all the LED lights stripped off, and the furniture had already been moved out.

"I don't understand how you could do it." He says setting both feet inside. Still sitting on the windowpane as he gives me a confused look.

"What ever could you mean?" I ask sarcastically as I pop a cigarette into my mouth, fishing through my pockets for a lighter.

"You really went ahead and burned your father alive like it was the Salem witch trials." He says. "Then killed Josephine. Theo told me the whole thing about you two drinking together, what I can't understand is the whiskey."

"Ok?" I look to Victor as I light the cigarette taking a deep inhale.

"Why did you drink with him?" He asks. "Is that why you stopped drinking in the first place? You were saving your last for him? I'm sorry Solus, I-I just don't understand."

I shook my head and shrugged as I let out a cloud of smoke. The cloud expanding in the middle of the room surrounding me with its toxicity. I breathe it in like cocaine.

"What is it that you're trying to understand Vic?" I ask with a sigh.

"All of it." He says with a shake of his head. "How easily you killed the person you call your father. Ruthlessly killing a Lycan of all people. This reminds me of an old story in our community, some man named Raphe,"

"Raphe Lamontagne." I say finishing it for him.

"You know Raphe's story?" He asks.

"I'm a history major, so yes. And honestly, did you really think I wouldn't go looking for people like me? How did you think I found Grits?"

Victor steps completely into the living room and sits down on a pile of stacked boxes. Looking tired in a loose green button up shirt half way open to travels a wife beater, ripped dirty jeans, and work shoes. There was dirt all over the man.

"The hell were you doing before you got here?" I ask.

"Scouting. Exercising. Really not wanting to be anywhere near the palace right now." He says.

A moment of silence between us and I look to Victor raising my eyebrow at him.

"You wanna cause a riot?"

***

For once, I was the spectator. On the opposite side of the cage as Victor was on the inside fighting all the men that tried to cripple me.

He leans against the cage bars sweating and laughing.

"I get it!" He shouts over the thunderous applause and animalistic roaring of the crowd around us. "I get it! This is fun!"

"Yeah you say that now! But the only reason you're in there is because you didn't want me in there! You know it Victor!" I shout over the noise.

"True!" He shouts back. "But I admit, this is fun. I didn't get my licks in before we left last time anyways!"