Page 55 of Our Violent Ends
“This isn’t just the blood feud,” Marshall said softly. He grimaced, then wiped at Juliette’s tears. She was letting them run. More and more gangsters on both sides were arriving, and by the sudden gunshot sounds, Juliette guessed a fight to be breaking out. “The blackmailer tricked both gangs. Your Scarlets think the White Flowers are the ones making the demands. They hurried to get the upper hand, desperate to show that they were too strong to be messed with. Tyler led the attack.”
Juliette dug her nails into her palms. Her skin throbbed with pain, but it didn’t make her feel any better.
“I’m sorry,” she managed. “I’m sorry his heart is so wicked.”
Marshall frowned. He was trying to hold back his look of distress, but Juliette still saw it in the speed with which he tried to clear her tears. Once, she might have protested, might have feared the weakness she was showing. Now she did not want to pretend that she felt nothing; she would welcome the world’s pity if it meant she could just stophurting.
“The wickedest part isn’t his heart,” Marshall said. He glanced to the end of the alley, jumping ever so slightly when a spray of gunfire came near. “It is that he is truly acting on Scarlet interests, dear Juliette. The wickedest part is that this city is so deeply divided as to allow such atrocity.”
Juliette breathed in deeply, steadying herself. Indeed, it always came back to the blood feud. It always came back to the hatred that ran through the very veins of this city, not their hearts.
“What are you doing here?” Juliette asked now, scrubbing the last of the wetness from her face. “Itoldyou to stay inside.”
“If I hadn’t come out, you would be over there getting shot by Roma,” Marshall replied. “Nor would I have heard—” He broke off, misery flashing through his expression. “I was too late. I ran faster than the other White Flowers did, but I couldn’t stop it.”
“It’s good that you didn’t try.” Juliette straightened up, forcing Marshall to look at her. “It is not worth it, do you hear me? I cannot take Tyler down if you just give him more ammunition by revealing yourself to be alive.”
But Marshall just stared at the mouth of the alley. For someone who usually could not stop talking, he was eerily silent, his eyes tracking the flashes of violence that came near.
“Mars,” Juliette said again.
“Yeah,” he replied. “Yeah, I know.”
Juliette bit down on the insides of her cheeks, flinching when the yelling got closer.
“I must run back to Scarlet territory and get backup,” Juliette said with regret. “No matter how wicked Tyler and his men are, I will not stand by and watch them be outnumbered.” She paused, then heaved an exhale. “Go help him, Marshall.”
Marshall’s eyes swiveled back. “I beg your pardon?”
“Benedikt,” Juliette clarified. “Go help Benedikt. You look like you’re ready to claw off your own skin in helplessness.”
Marshall was already tying the cloth back around his face. When he pulled the hood of his outer jacket up, he was unrecognizable, only another part of the rapidly falling night. “Be careful,” he said.
Another spray of gunfire.
“I should be telling you that,” Juliette said. “Hurry!”
Marshall ran off, joining the fray, joining yet another fight of the blood feud that was tearing this city into pieces.
And Juliette turned on her heel, retreating to bring more forces to their death.
?
Benedikt could hardly see past the sheen of red in his vision. He didn’t know if the red was from fury or actual blood, splattered along his temple and dripping into his eyes.
“Get over here,” Roma hissed from some paces away. His cousin was crouching behind a car, gun in hand. Benedikt, meanwhile, was only standing behind a streetlamp, hardly covered given the thinness of the pole. Up ahead, Scarlets were in a shoot-out with the rest of the White Flowers, and the odds were not looking good for their side. The Scarlet numbers were only growing, though this was White Flower territory. Someone within Scarlet ranks had to have gathered reinforcements the moment this started. The White Flowers were not so lucky.
“What’s the use in hiding?” Benedikt asked. From where he stood, he fired off a shot. It hit a Scarlet in the leg.
“I’m not asking you to hide.” Roma, making a frustrated sound, stood suddenly, fired a shot, then ducked back down. “I’m asking you to get over here so we canleave.This is turning into a slaughter.”
Benedikt’s vision flashed. The red cleared for blinding white. Night had fallen around them, and their surroundings would have been dark if not for the fire still raging in the safe house, consuming the walls and lives within.
“We cannot just leave the fight,” Benedikt snapped.
“You’re a damn Montagov,” Roma hissed, his words just as sharp. “Know when to concede. That’s how wesurvive.”
A Montagov.Benedikt’s stomach roiled as if he had just ingested something rotten. Being a Montagov was exactly what had gotten him here in the first place—right in the middle of a blood feud, bitter as bone, with only his cousin by his side and no one else.
