The Code To A Don's Heart

t h i r t y - o n e

Viktor hadn't come down in a while but I heard him talking on his phone in Russian. Mrs. C kept sending me skeptical glances as we cooked together and I did my best to avoid her eyes. I was grateful to Viktor for keeping his tone polite upstairs but the old lady next to me wasn't convinced he was a good guy. She hand't even seen him yet.

"So... the two of you are together I'm guessing?"

"No," I hesitantly avoided Mrs. C's question. "Not really."

"But you have done something together," she pressed.

I rolled my eyes and stirred the pot with fried chicken. "It doesn't matter."

"Of course it does. The two of you have been together for what... two months? Running around, always ready to face danger. You can't tell me attraction hasn't done its job."

"You haven't even seen him," I complained.

"I don't need to. He sounds hunky enough," the old lady said and nudged me with her elbow.

"Mrs. C!" I exclaimed horrified only to have her laugh at me. I now regretted trying to give her a small rundown of things between Viktor and I.

"I'm guessing he's dangerous," she added after her giggling fit. "And high ranking in whatever illegal syndicate he's running."

She had no idea.

"He's a good guy." Mostly.

"Maybe good to you but do you know others who know him. Have you heard the whispers of him in the streets?"

I had. The Butcher had a reputation.

"Yes, I know the whispers about him," I answered Mrs. C. Apart from myself, she was the person I trusted with enough secrets that got most killed. The old lady was kind and she didn't squeal. No matter what.

"How bad are they?"

"Terrible," I answered her question, going back to cutting the lettuce for the salad we were going to eat. "Horrific."

"You want to look past the fact that he's a killer then," Mrs. C pointed out for me.

I frowned, trying to meander through my thoughts as the sound of my knife on the chopping board echoed in the kitchen. "Not really. I can't look past the fact that his hands are coated with blood but... so are mine."

Mrs. C knew I had taken a life or two before this whole issue with Viktor and his dopplegänger. Most of the lives were not good men and they had hindered my search for my brother and chance to redeem my father.

"Killing six or seven people for a good cause is not the same as killing hundreds as I'm sure your little boyfriend has done," Mrs. C argued. "There is a point where you have to draw a line."

"You and I both know at this point I've taken more than my fair share of lives," I said remembering the fight I'd gotten to in the building, trying to find Viktor and the masked faces of the men I'd shot down. "If I killed as many men as he has for my family, you wouldn't judge me. How am I supposed to judge him if at the time he was murdering people, he believed his cause was good. He was doing it for his family, his business, his people... I just want to put myself in his shoes sometimes. If there were a million people standing between me, my dad and Peirce... well I'd find myself some C-4 and make a path."

When I glanced at Mrs. C over my shoulder, she looked at me like a light bulb had gone off in her head. Like she knew more about em and Viktor than I probably did.

"He saved your life?"

"Almost a hundred times and I would save his. Always," I said adding the last part under my breath but I'm sure she heard me.