7 Chapter 7 - Victor, the baby shark

When Victor had been born, Adria had been a mess. She barely ate, barely slept, barely lived. She had been a zombie. Never showered, never smiled. She picked trouble, sometimes it found her first. Adria was unreasonable on her best days.

Her sister had two children and one on the way. Maggie could barely handle her responsibilities let alone Adria.

The kids had helped like nothing else, had put her back together, mended that broken part of her she buried under shrapnel and a foul temper. With every night that she fell asleep holding the tiny bundle to her chest it had felt like a step closer to healing. Vicky was as much hers as he was Maggie's.

Adria still could not believe that her baby had been put forth as collateral. Paul had a world of pain waiting for him. That fat disgusting pig.

"Interesting."

Adria looked down at the relaxed man, his amber eyes narrowed and focused, that devil may care smirk directed at her. Her muscles tightened around his thighs. He was dangerous, and she felt that to her core because for all that she had the cold metal digging into the soft underside of his throat he looked comfortable, as if he were taking a stroll in the park. Mother-tucker.

"Listen pretty boy, I don't give a fuck what you say but the second those bastards are back through those doors," Adria leaned back to wave at the rusted metal double doors, hissing the last part into his ear, "you keep your mouth shut. No bullshit, no swearing, no undermining my authority."

Her hostage did not flinch, or recoil, or sneer. He was blank, yet Adria could almost taste the ozone in the air. He watched her so intensely she thought, for a moment, that this was it, he would…

He ruffled his silver-grey hair – who had that kind of colouring in their 30s – and the air around him seemed to lighten. Adria could breathe again. She hadn't been sure it would work.

She shot at the ceiling, gaining the men's undivided attention.

"If any of you fuckers dare to act out, I will shoot your small cucumbers. On a side note, I've always wanted to shoot someone in the balls."

The man wheezed, his shoulders shaking, the gun shifted down to his collarbones. Adria gripped the handle harder. For fuck's sake, he was a hostage. He better start acting like one.

"How they managed to nab you is a mystery. Tell me, did you have your first client yet?"

Adria rolled her eyes.

"Yes."

He clapped exuberantly, his gaze rolled over her critically, meeting Adria's green eyes reflected in his own like a clear image on the surface of a lake.

"He must have been a difficult man to survive your encounter," he murmured.

Adria grinned, a spark of mischief igniting. She had to remind herself that he was not a good man. He was the reason she was in this hell. Still, that part of her that had gotten her in so much trouble with her dad reared its massive head. God knows how many grey hairs she'd given him.

"Who said he did."

He threw his head back, his laugh booming and echoing in the quiet room. He picked randomly one of the men gathered.

"You there, tell me how he died."

The burly bastard was one of the meaner guards. He had a nasty scar running from his cheek to his chest, skin puckered and purple, yet he wore an open vest to showcase it. That wasn't what made him special. No. It was the way he was fucked in the head – he liked to pee on the girls. Adria had retched when she caught him bullying one of the younger girls. He liked to use his mass and height to intimidate the women, even the Hag had no respite from this particular monster.

Oh, but how he trembled like a willow under his boss' cold eyes. A wet patch bloomed on the front of his trousers.

Adria patted him on the shoulder. Good man.

"She, she stabbed," he stuttered, "she stabbed him in the, the eye. Sir."

Adria snorted.

She perched her chin on her hand. She'd done a lot more than that.

"You picked the stupid one dear," conspiratorially she added, "he likes to pee on people."

The man narrowed his eyes, a sneer curling his lips downward. The stupid guard didn't get the hint. Loser. He held out his hand expectantly, but Adria rolled her eyes. He pouted; the big bad mafia boss pouted cutely... Adria gave him the gun.

Boy was she glad.

He shot the guard. In the balls.

The burly man screamed, cradling his bleeding crotch, until someone thought better and knocked him out.

Handing the gun back to her, he shot her a smug smile.

Well then.

"I ripped his ear off with my teeth, stabbed him in the eye with his fucking brooch, and then used the dammed purple tie to choke him. They dragged me away before I could finish the job."

Maybe she was a little too satisfied with the near homicide, Maggie would have a fit if she ever heard. Maggie would have a fit anyway, she liked to pick just about anything to have a fit over.

Adria met his wide-eyed stare, preening at the awe that glistened in his eyes.

"You are simply - "

The metal doors slid open. The men entered in a cluster of movement and chaos; a tiny form was hidden behind their legs. Eddie directed the men back in line and Adria could finally rove her eyes over her baby.

His brown waves were matted, the curls that usually made him look like a fluffy puddle flat and oily, his emerald eyes dull. Her baby had lost weight too; he was too skinny, a gauntness to his small face, a tremble in his fragile hands. Vicky was only two.

Victor looked around the room warily, thin shoulders hunched.

Adria stood up, chest swelling with giddiness.

"Baby shark!"

His head snapped to the side; eyes lighting up when they caught sight of her. Victor seemed to transform before her eyes, the haunted image long gone replaced by a sprite blessed by the sun.

"Adi! Adi! Adi! Where were you?"

Victor launched himself into her arms. Adria stumbled, the heels wobbling under the added weight, almost giving in, but there was an arm around her waist and a hand on her forearm, gentle and warm, keeping her steady.

She looked up.

He loomed over them, face cast in shadow. Adria blinked, flinching back as a coat was suddenly draped over her shoulders. When did mob bosses become gentlemen?

Adria smoothed back Victor's curls, nuzzling his cheek softly. She inhaled the scent of new-born baby that still clung to her toddler, the baby shampoo they used faint under the musk of sweat and salt. Barely there. Peppering kisses along his forehead, she whispered inane words meant for comfort into the hallow of his throat. Adria tightened her arms, imprinting the memory of his weight in her mind. Victor made little snuffling sounds. Adria may have melted.

"Hey baby, liked our adventure?"

"Mihm, I want to go home. Can we go home Adi?"

Adria smiled, tugging on his ear gently, he leaned into her palm like a kitten. She'd get a toothache before the end of the day.

"Yeah, we're going home baby, but there's one last quest before we can go," she said in a low voice.

"But I'm tired!"

He groaned, whining loudly in her ear. She kind of missed that too.

"Don't worry baby, this quest is for Adi! This man here is going to take you in his nice truck. We're going to have a race; I'll be right behind you."

His little fist pumped up, and he jumped down to insistently tug at the hem of the coat; Adria was glad for it. She hadn't wanted her baby to see her dressed like a floozy. Adria pinched his cheek. Mindlessly, she offered him one of her hands to play with as she beckoned Eddie closer.

"I need two phones."

He spluttered, the protest on his lips died when she pointedly stared at the gun, shoved under the open blazer, away from the eyes of the child. Eddie bit his lip, eyes roving over the room, foot tapping incessantly.

"Eddie, do I look like the type to call the police?"

His gaze jumped back to her, he looked like a deer caught in headlights with his wide watery eyes and trembling hands. Honestly, she'd thought better of him.

"Oh Eddie, no, no, no. I don't need them, don't be stupid."

She kept her voice mellow. Adria patted his shoulder, resting her hand on his elbow, nails piercing his tanned flesh. He nodded meekly, wincing but otherwise calm. Better.

"You're going to start a live feed, then you're going to take my nephew home."

"Yes, ma'am," he said.

He hung his head low, eyes never meeting hers. Clever bastard.

"If you happen to accidently hang up, attempt to contact someone else or do anything that is out of my range of command I will string every single man within this facility by their entrails from the rafters. Then, I will hand over all the evidence needed to condemn whoever entitled snob is behind this to a life sentence. Of course, only after I release the people in the basement."

The last word elicited a response, he looked up instantaneously, the abject horror on his face visible to the naked eye. Adria never did find what they hid in the basement, but she assumed whatever it was, it was the kind of messy business that only sick twisted assholes indulged in. They carried carts of food and supplies down to the basement regularly, that wouldn't be necessarily suspicious if they didn't already have a storage room on the second floor. No matter how much she bribed the Hag, she never opened her mouth.

"What's in the basement?"

Adria glared at the annoying man again, wishing her eyes had laser beams.

"Not now."

He pouted but settled down to watch them quietly.

"Come on baby, time to go home to mommy."

She turned to Victor, picked him up on her hip and swayed back and forth, suddenly grateful for the hand on the small of her back. Victor protested, hiding his face against her chest. She didn't want to part with him either, but Adria couldn't think of a better way to use her useless life than exchanging it for his.

"Hey, don't be like that. Mm. Whoever gets home first will get all the chocolate. I'm so going to win."

Victor lifted his head puffing his cheeks at her. He slid down, stomped his foot, and shook his tiny fist at her before marching through the double doors. Eddie scrambled after him. A second later, he peeked his head through the gap, sticking his tongue out at her. Adria mirrored him, laughing heartily as he scrunched his nose and huffily pretended to flip his hair.

She may have been a bad influence.

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