“Not your hope. Your disappointment. I don’t want it. I don’t want you.”
Viktor studied him for a moment. “Tell me something. Where are you working now?”
“I’m not.” The words tasted like failure. He hated how small they sounded. Without Viktor, he was nothing. That was the lie he’d been raised on.Why now? Why come here? What does he want?
“Come home, Adrik. I need you.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Let’s talk in the kitchen. Have a drink.”
The last thing Adrik wanted was to sit across from him like they were a normal father and son. He wanted to get away, call Hans, fly home, and crawl into the only place he felt safe. But he followed Viktor anyway.
In the kitchen, he rummaged through the cabinets until he found vodka. Adrik grabbed paper towels, wet them, and stepped closer to Viktor. The man didn’t flinch when Adrik dabbed at the blood on his cheek.
“Does it hurt?” Adrik asked.
“No.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. My ring caught you.”
“That fucking ring from your grandfather?” Viktor muttered, pouring two doubles over ice.
“Yes.”
“Christ. He’s attacking me from his grave.”
They sat at the table with their drinks like civilized men. Only they weren’t. They had never been there.
“I wish my grandfather were my father instead of you,” Adrik said.
“Nice words to hear from my son. My favorite son.”
Adrik scoffed. “Why are you here?”
“Your mother almost died. That’s why. She left over you.”
“I know why she left. It was over you.”
“Tomorrow, your brother will be here. We’ll visit your mother together as a family and convince her to return with us to New York.”
Adrik’s stomach twisted. “Why is he coming?”
“Think about it. Burian is your mother’s favorite.”
“I don’t want to be near him.”
“Too bad.”
“I’m not flying back with you.”
“You don’t have a job, Adrik. You’re not one to sit in retirement at your age. No country wants to hire a Russian criminal. No one will hire you. You’re not a citizen anywhere except America.”
“I’m working on becoming a citizen.”
“Where?”
“Germany.”
