Page 103 of Mafia and Scars

“They were noisy,” I snap. “And they weren’t going to do shit.”

Nikolai’s eyes narrow. And then he lunges for me.

Grigory leaps between us, arm wrapping over Nikolai’s shoulder before he can throw the punch he’s geared up for. Likely for his own good than mine. “Knock it off!” he growls at us.

Nikolai tugs his shirt down, nostrils flaring. “Just keep the hell away from me if you know what’s good for you,” he hisses at me.

I roll my eyes. I don’t regret any of it. He should know fucking better.

Grigory glares at me. “Office, Viktor.Now.” It’s not a suggestion.

I make my way indoors. Once I’ve put the launcher away, I walk casually to the office. He closes the door behind us, moving around the desk to his chair. Papers clutter the surface of his desk, completely the opposite of my tidy and immaculate workspace. And at the foot of his desk lies Albert who’s resting his head on top of his fluffy paws. For a man so adamant that the dog wasn’t staying, Grigory has sure got attached to Albert pretty fast and has even started referring to himas “my dog.” Albert has also taken to following Grigory around for much of each day.

“Sit,” Grigory orders me.

I roll my eyes but drop into the chair across his desk.

“Wanna tell me what’s actually going on?”

I fold my arms over my chest. “The drones were pissing me off. He knows that stuff gets to me.”

He doesn’t say anything, just levels me with one of those looks. The kind that breaks weaker men. The kind that just makes the three of us who know him roll our eyes.

I stare him down.

Grigory leans forward, elbows on the desk. “You don’t shoot down three drones just because they’re annoying. You’re not usually the ‘shoot first and ask later’ type of guy.”

The way his expression softens a little, I’m reminded of that night we were kids, when I asked him if he thinks in color or in black and white.And it’s another reminder of how different I am from him and the others.Sinking into the chair a little more, I push my hair back and sigh.

“It kinda seems like something’s going on,” he suggests.

I don’t move. “I’m okay.”

He studies me. “Right, you’re fine. So, I’ll just tell Nikolai you blew up half a million dollars’ worth of drones because they were irritating you.”

My jaw ticks.

“Is this about Avelina?”

I don’t answer.

He nods. “Thought so. She’s creating problems?”

“No.” I rush to answer him. “She’s not creating a problem.”

Over the last few days, I’ve agonized about what to do. Sex with her—it’s explosive. Like nothing I’ve ever felt. Addictive and eye-opening.But is that all it is?Does she even want a relationship? I haven’t been able to really ask her what she might want. Maybe I’m overthinking it. Stressing out for nothing more than a casual fling.

Grigory lifts an eyebrow.

“It’s me...I think.” This is hard to talk about, hard to admit. It’s like coming to terms with ASD and knowing that the fewer people who know and can use it against me the better. “I don’t know what I’m doing. This wasn’t supposed to be... I mean, it’s casual. I’m not built for more than that.” I came to terms with that a long time ago. Relationships? With someone who doesn’t like physical touch? Who has so many idiosyncratic behaviors?Impossible.

“But?” he prompts.

But nothing. I thought I was okay with whatever the fuck Avelina and I had. Casual. An itch to scratch.But I’m not.

“You want something more, Viktor?”

My eyes snap to Grigory’s. I don’t want to lie to him. And if—and it’s a pretty fucking big if—she wants it too, she’ll be around more.