4. Katy
4
Katy
M y alarm rings, and without opening my eyes, I can feel his presence gone. The void that he leaves behind when he exits a room is palpable. I know he comes in here when I have bad nights; I feel him more than he probably knows.
Rolling over, I silence the alarm and glance at the monitor to see if Owen is still asleep, but I don’t immediately see a lump or a head of dark hair. I sit up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, and search the monitor again. The crib is empty, and I stare at the screen in disbelief because there’s no way he crawled out of it.
Panicking, I jump out of bed and rush out of my room, only to come to a halting stop. Standing at the kitchen counter, still shirtless, Viktor sways with Owen on his hip, making pancakes on the griddle.
I take a moment to catch my breath, but also to calm my mind because it immediately went to the worst-case scenario. I know the security in the pool house and the main house is as good as it can get, but until I know that Shane no longer walks this earth, there will always be that nagging suspicion in the back of my mind.
Shane told me the night of the attack that Owen belonged to him. It wasn’t until after the fact, when I really thought about the words he said, that I realized he was my rapist.
Shane, Spencer’s ex-fiancé, raped me in the alley across from my high school when I was sixteen.
I can say that now. The words are still hard, but I can do it. It took me a long time to admit that to myself but it’s another thing I can thank Viktor for. I knew I needed help the night he found me hysterical in the corner of my room with Owen crying just as loudly in his crib. We were still in the big house, and Owen was only a few months old the night it happened.
It’s three a.m., and Owen’s crying wakes me up. I groggily walk over to his crib, but when I reach down to pick him up, I freeze.
The shadow cast from the moon outside drapes the lower half of his tiny body in darkness, and my mind registers it as a stain. A stain like the one I watched spread over Viktor’s stomach as he bled out in the front seat of my car from a bullet wound.
“Katy?” Viktor barges into my room after hearing me scream. A sound I wasn’t aware I was making until he arrived.
Viktor’s eyes frantically bobbing between Owen and me, not sure who he should go to first. With a shaky hand, I point at the crib, and Viktor scoops up Owen, looking over every inch of him for the source of my current state.
When he’s confident there’s nothing visibly wrong with the baby, he comes to me and crouches down, giving me a once-over.
“What’s wrong, Pepper?” His voice is soothing but laced with concern.
“I…blood…you.” I struggle to get words out through my hyperventilation, and the ones I am managing are just making him look more worried.
“There’s no blood. Owen is fine. I checked him over. Do you want to look?” Viktor pulls Owen away from his chest to hand him to me, and I shake my head. The image of both of them covered in blood is too much for me to handle at the moment.
“Okay, Katy, I’ll hold him. What can I do?”
I have no idea. I just need to get this image out of my head before it snowballs like it’s done in the past.
“Sh-shower.”
“You want to take a shower? Okay. Let me get Spencer. Will you be okay until I get back?”
His words send me deeper into a flashback of the day I was raped, and Spencer helped me shower.
“No Spencer. I-no. I don’t want her.” He looks torn with what to do, and I don’t exactly know what I’m asking of him either, but I know I don’t want Spencer.
“Okay. Can I bring Owen to them so I can help you?”
I close my eyes and dig the heels of my hands into the sockets until I see stars. I just want to forget that night. Why can’t I just forget?
“Katy?” Viktor’s hand pulls at one of my wrists. “You’re going to hurt yourself, Pepper. Please let me help you. I’ll be right back, okay?”
I allow him to pull my hands away, and seeing his silver-blue eyes, very much alive and staring at me, calms my nerves. I nod, and he stands with Owen and leaves the room.
It feels like he just walked out when he returns. Without a word, he scoops me in his arms and carries me to the bathroom. Viktor doesn’t let go as he turns the water on and adjusts the temperature. He cradles me in his arms while I cling to him like a koala. Once again, I’m reminded of being in a similar position and feeling with Lincoln. The thought of Viktor putting me down so I can undress and get into the shower is terrifying.
He must sense how I’m feeling because he opens the shower door and steps inside, clothing and all. If I had any protest in me, I would have used it, but I don’t.
Viktor angles us so the hot stream of water beats on my back, and his body keeps my front warm. Neither of us speaks. He holds me without effort, and our clothes cling to our bodies.
“Katy.”
“Not yet.”
“Pepper, I’m not letting you go, but I’d like you to listen. Can you do that for me?” Burying my head deeper into his chest, I nod. “I think you need to talk to someone. You’re an amazing mother, and Owen deserves you to be as healthy as possible, both physically and mentally.”
Therapy has been mentioned more times than I can count. I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to remember it at all.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine.” His previously soft tone has turned firm. “Katy, you’ve been through more in your seventeen years than most people go through in a lifetime. Talk. That’s all I’m asking. Your strength in the past few years is stronger than any man I’ve ever known, but admitting to yourself you need help isn’t a weakness. It’s the most strength you can possibly have. Strength for yourself and strength for Owen.”
After that conversation, I reached out to Justin. While our traumas are completely different, I knew he was the best one to point me in the direction I needed. Viktor gave me the initial push, and Justin held my hand.
I lean against my door frame in awe at the ease my Viking Viktor cares for my son.
Not mine.
My bodyguard, my babysitter, my pain in the ass protector, even my nightmare chaser, but not mine.
Owen’s arm reaches up, and I think he’s going to grab at Viktor’s ear, but he goes a little higher and pulls at his hair. He yanks hard enough that a big chunk comes out of Viktor’s bun. Rather than complaining about what my son just did, he tugs at the hair tie and lets all his hair cascade down to his shoulders.
I must have made a noise because Viktor’s head turns over his shoulder, and a sweet smile forms on his lips, but then suddenly freezes. He must have remembered that the sun is up, and he isn’t allowed to be nice to me unless we’re under the cloak of darkness.
My attitude sours at the whiplash he gives me.
“Pepper—”
“Don’t Pepper me. I still think it’s the stupidest nickname, but whatever. I get it. You’re on the job. Can’t be nice to me. I don’t understand why you do nice things, like obviously waking up with my toddler, but you treat me like I’m nothing to you. After close to three years, Viktor, you’d think we could at least be friends?”
“Katy.” My name is a little firmer.
“What?”
“You’re shirt—”
“Yeah, yeah. It’s morning. I know I look like shit. I’m sorry I didn’t have time to put on a full face of makeup when I looked at the baby monitor and saw my kid was missing from his crib.”
He looks at Owen and then back…past me? He can’t even look at me now? Great. Awesome.
I charge toward him, and he turns his body as I approach so Owen’s frame is in my line of sight. I take him off Viktor’s hip, and he still looks in the opposite direction.
“What the hell is your problem?” I wipe at my cheeks. “Do I have drool crusted on my face or something? I’m sorry I’m not as cute and vulnerable by the light of day.”
“Katy.” My name is clipped from his mouth.
“What?” I bark out. “I can match your energy if you want me to.”
“You’re shirt—”
“Jesus Christ, Viktor. What is your obsession with my pajamas this morning? It’s just a tank to—”
“Look. Down,” he growls.
I growl back in frustration as I look and immediately turn my back to him.
Rule number one of having big boobs. Tank tops at night are just small torture chambers your boobs will escape from at all costs. I’ve never been a part of the Big Titty Committee before having Owen. Breastfeeding has almost tripled my bra size, and there are some new things I’ve never had to deal with before.
Exhibit A- My left tit is flapping in the wind. How did I not notice? I just flashed Viktor, and by the look on his face and the way he reacted, he’s not happy about it.