Page 83 of Reckoning

“I was,”

His laugh cuts through the air.

I scowl, firming my grip. If I have to shoot him a hundred times I will. If I have to empty the entire magazine, then I’ll do it.

“Your brother is dead.” Marsden says with more than a hint of glee. “His buddies are all dead. You thought you could play a stupid game like we wouldn’t realise. This is the consequence, Sofia.”

I gulp, trying to stop the way my body is trembling. It won’t help me shoot straight will it?

But Roman isn’t dead.

I know it. They couldn’t kill him that easily. They just couldn’t.

But then, how else did they breach our security? How else are they standing here? Attacking us?

“Are you here to kill me too?” I ask.

It feels almost poetic if that’s the case. All the Montagues killed in one final sweep. Maybe they’ll turn our house into some sort of mausoleum. Afterall, they’ll have to come up with a good story as to why we’ve all been wiped out the way we have. A vision flashes in my head; this house, blackened, burnt, like a permanent memorial.

He laughs again. “Kill you? Why would we do that?” He replies. “You’re the sole heiress, Sofia. You’re worth a fortune now. No, we won’t kill, at least, not yet. You’ve got your sins to atone for first.”

I don’t think. I don’t hesitate. I pull the trigger, aiming right for the bastard’s chest. He groans as the bullet hits him but it does little beyond that. He pulls it out, holds it up and drops it with a look of contempt. “Gotta do better than that.” He sneers.

And then a scream echoes. A scream that makes me freeze.

Lara. They have Lara.

“I’ll do you a deal.” I say quickly. “I’ll go with you. I won’t fight.”

He narrows his eyes. I doubt he got orders not to hurt me but by the sounds of it he definitely won’t be rewarded if I end up dead ahead of schedule. It’s all I have to barter with. All I have to offer. My stomach twists in disgust and a cowardly part of me is already protesting.

But I can’t not try.

I can’t not attempt to spare Lara from whatever fate is awaiting me.

“In exchange for what?” He asks.

“The girl. Let the girl go.”

He frowns, just as his men strut up behind him, just as they drag Lara into view.

She’s sobbing uncontrollably. Her face has a handprint where someone has obviously slapped her. She looks so small, so fragile in the grip of a man three times her size. His hand is wrapped around her neck like he’s about to tighten his grip and snap it in half.

Maybe this is all over.

Maybe the Montagues are fucked, I am fucked, but if I can get her out, if I can save her, it will be worth it. It has to be worth it. I can’t just give in, roll over, let them do whatever it is they plan, knowing that I’ve failed.

No, if I can save Lara at least that will take away some of the bitterness at my own failure. At least it will make the pain that tiny bit more bearable.

“Let her go.” I repeat. “She’s a nobody. A nothing. Let her go and I will walk out this door and get in that car and do whatever you want.”

His lips curl like I’ve just propositioned him. His eyes sparkle with amusement. “Who is she?”

“Like I said, she’s a nobody.” I repeat.

“If she’s so insignificant why do you care so much?” He replies.

For a second I panic. For a second my mind goes blank. Fear takes over and I can’t think. But I have to have an answer, something that explains who Lara is without putting a target on her back.

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