Page 53 of The Pawn
“Look at me, babygirl.”
I shake my head, suck in a breath as tears drop to the floor.
“Allegra.”
I finally do it. I have to. I turn my gaze up to his.
His eyes search mine, a furrow between his brows. Does he see my shame?
“Pieces,” Cassian says. He watches me as I watch what drops out of the bundle he’d made of his shirt. I knew, didn’t I? I knew. It still turns my stomach to see it. See them.
I count.
Eight.
Eight fingers.
“He’s a liar,” I try again, but we both know who the liar is here.
“He didn’t lie about this though, did he?” he asks, thumb and forefinger touching the ring finger of my left hand. “Your mother’s ring. That’s why you had it.”
Tears. More tears.
“That bastard made you do it with your mother’s bloody ring.”
I drop my head lower even as I feel myself moving toward him, closer to him, wishing I could disappear in him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks.
I shake my head, tasting the salt of my tears. I look up at him. “I was too ashamed,” I manage.
Cassian wipes a tear from my face with his bloody hand then smears it down over my mouth, my throat. It’s Rami’s blood.
“Is he dead?” I ask.
“Dying.”
“Did it hurt?”
“It’s still hurting.”
I nod, my lip trembling, a strange acceptance of what is.
“I need to ask you something,” he says.
It’s hard to look at him, but I owe him this, don’t I?
“Did he have you?”
A sob.
“Allegra. Did any of them have you?”
I shake my head.
“Did Malek?”
“No.”
