“Vike, this isn’t fair. You know everything about me, all my secrets. I’m not going to think any differently of you. I love you.”
“So did they.” He takes the photo out of his wallet and hands it to me.
“Is this your family?” I ask after studying it. There’s no denying that Vike looks like the man who has his arms wrapped around a pretty, blonde-haired woman.
“I was fourteen when Mia was born. It was a shock to my parents. I don’t think she was planned, but she was a firecracker.” He rubs the back of his neck, the way he always does when he feels guilty or uncomfortable.
“Is this you?” I point to the teenage boy who’s holding the cute little girl on his lap.
“Mom had a family portrait done before I left for college. I was smart; I’d gotten a scholarship. They were so fuckin’ proud of me.” I see the sadness in his eyes multiply.
“As they should be. I always knew you were smart.” I look down at the perfect family photo and wonder what went wrong for them.
“Mia looked up to me; her face would light up every time I walked into a room. I used to have to call her every night after I left for college.”
“That’s adorable.” I smile, taking a seat, when I start feeling sore again.
“Do you still stay in touch?” I don’t recall Vike ever mentioning having a sister.
“She’s dead, just like they are, and it’s all my fault.” He rips the photo from my hand and places it back in his wallet.
“Vike, I’m so sorry. I knew you lost your parents, but a sister too? That must have been awful. How old were you?”
“I was nineteen; first year of college. Yeah, I was smart, but I was also fuckin’ naïve.”
I can feel us getting somewhere when he takes the seat beside me.
“Vike?” I take his hand in mine again and notice how it’s shaking.
“I got involved with the wrong crowd, started doing some drug running. At first, it was nothing too serious, just a little dope around campus, but then it got bigger. It got outta hand. My friends were asking for favors, taking hits, and promising topay me next time. They ran up a debt with me, which meant I ran up a debt with Lawrence.”
“And Lawrence is?”
“The guy who was in charge. His son was the first friend I made at college. I knew he was dangerous when I got involved, but I never could stay outta trouble.”
“So what happened?”
“I got into deep. All those favors I did; people never did pay back. Their debt becomes my debt. I was working more and more for him, trying to get him paid back; then one night, he called. He told me his son, Trent, had gotten into trouble and that he needed me to pick him up. I’d been drinking; I should never have gotten behind the wheel of that car, but I was scared. I had to do what Lawrence told me to.”
“So you picked him up?”
“He was at a party; he’d gotten into a fight, and the cops were on their way. I met him a few blocks away, and when he got in the car, he was even more wasted than I was,” Vike explains. “I stayed behind the wheel. I drove us home, but we never made it. I lost control of the car, crashed into a ravine, and I tried to get Trent outta the car. I tried so fuckin’ hard. He was non-responsive. He didn’t look like he was breathing, and I had to bail before the thing blew up.”
“Shit, Vike.” I comfort him as best I can.
“You can imagine how Lawrence reacted. He’d lost his son; he blamed me for everything. He wanted his money. He wanted vengeance. I thought he was gonna kill me. The only thing I could think to do was go home, grovel to my dad, and beg him for help.”
“And did he help?”
“I never got the chance to ask him,” Vike whispers. “Everyone said that Lawrence didn’t take any shit. I should have listened.I should have stopped trying to be everyone’s fuckin’ buddy. I shouldn’t have driven that car?—”
“Vike, what happened?” I grip his hands tighter.
“Police called it a home invasion, said the intruders got disturbed and reacted. But they were all in their beds; they were shot in their fuckin’ beds, Alicia.” He shakes his head.
“You think it was Lawrence?”
“Iknowit was fuckin’ Lawrence,” he answers, drawing air through his nostrils.
