Page 141 of Dance of Madness

Five motherfuckers with guns—mercenaries, I learned later—barged in on them. They beat my father. They made him watch while they did unspeakable things to my mother.

Then they executed them both.

After that night, I broke a little. Gabby was safe, thank God, but everything else was gone.

My parents. My family as I knew it.

Her.

I knew that night didn’thaveto be the end of it. I could have easily found her again.

But sometimes, the way back is blocked and the wounds are so deep that you have to leave it all behind.

So that’s why after I made one last trip to the library and found our book, I took it with me and locked that particular door behind me.

After that, I lost a part of myself. It took a while, but after the dust settled, and I was crowned king, and I made sure Gabby wassafe and taken care of, I found myself with a gun to my head in the dead of night.

That’s the night Kir found me.

“Life is pain.”

My eyes squeeze shut. I don’t want to hear his words. He’s already said so much in the three minutes he’s been here that I don’t know how to process it.

How to feel about it.

Where to go from here.

Actually, I already know that last one.

The metal presses to my temple. My finger teases the trigger.

“And sometimes,” he continues, “you can’t escape it.”

He stops right in front of me, his dark eyes fixed on mine.

“But you don’t always have to play by life’s rules.”

He reaches for the gun. I tense, gripping it harder.

“I’ll give it back,” he says quietly. “I promise.”

I don’t know why I believe him, but I do. I watch numbly as he takes the revolver from my hands, opens the cylinder, and taps all six bullets out into his palm.

His eyes slide back to mine.

“You still get to play,” he murmurs. “You still get a chance to square off with death. But not with bullshit odds.”

He holds up a single bullet, then slips it into the cylinder. He snaps it shut and spins it violently.

“You get one bullet, Nero,” he growls. “Just one.”

The gun is in my hand again. My palm is slick as I look away from Kir, toward the framed photo of my parents as well as the book I stole from the library, and the memories of her that come with it.

I press the barrel to my temple. My eyes close as I draw back the hammer.

“Life is pain, Nero,” Kir murmurs. “Sometimes you can’t escape it?—”

It happens so fast I don’t have time to second-guess myself.

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