Page 65 of Rooke
The bridge…
My heart is fit to explode by the time I reach my destination. Which side are they on?Which side?How far across are they? Jericho wouldn’t have ditched her body into the water. No, he knows I’m coming for her. He’s certifiably insane, but he’s also a pragmatist. If he can dispose of both Sasha and me at the same time, he’ll wait. It’s cleaner. Neater. Less mess to take care of.
The snow is falling so fast that, instead of melting instantly as it normally would on the bridge, it’s still thick on the ground. A high snow bank has even mounted up alongside the walkway. Nighttime has closed in, and a ribbon of yellow light heads in one direction across the bridge, while a banner of red flows in the other.
“SASHA!” I can’t see her. I can’t fucking see her anywhere. She has to be here. There are too many people around. Jericho would never shoot someone in public, then dump them over the railings. Too risky. Too dangerous. Too—
“Rooke!”
There they are. Just Alfonse and Jericho. In between them, leaning against the barrier, Sasha is pinned, wrestling like a wild animal, trying to get free. “Rooke, don’t! Don’t do it!”
She has to recognize the wild, frayed look in my eyes. I feel reckless, like I can’t trust myself not to make the wrong call right now. My fists have never let me down before, but this situation is different; I can’t go in there, throwing punches. Carefully. That’s how I need to approach this. Even though every fiber of my being is filled with rage, I have to proceed carefully.
“Record time, Rooke. You’re a little out of breath, no?”
“And you’re looking a little pale, boss. You need to take a knee?” I shouldn’t antagonize him. Alfonse sneers. When I look closer, I see he’s holding a knife casually against Sasha’s side, out of sight from the passing cars. Sasha’s eyes are wide. She looks so scared, but she doesn’t appear to be hurt. The gunshot I heard on the phone must have been theatrics on Jericho’s part. Her hair floats up on the wind, whipping around her face. Her jacket is dusted with snow, thick on her shoulders. They’ve been standing out here for some time.
“I’m not an unreasonable man,” Jericho says thoughtfully. “I’m a good Catholic. I believe in forgiveness, when it is sought out in earnest. What do you think, Rooke? Do you think you can convince me that you are sorry for how things played out earlier? That you truly feel bad for what happened to Michael and Mateo?”
“I doubt it.” I’m not playing games with him. He has no interest in making me beg for Sasha’s life. If I know him at all, he wants me to make him an offer—to trade my own life for hers. If that is what he wants, then he can have it. What is my life worth without her? Absolutely nothing. I’ll gladly hand myself over so long as he lets her go. He can shoot me in the gut and let me tumble into the icy water below if that’s how it has to be. I don’t trust him to let her live, though. I need to see her walk away from this.
And that means I’m probably going to have to fight.
Jericho points at all the traffic whipping by in a blur and pouts. “What do you think,hijo? Do you think any of them will stop to help you? Do you think they can even see us standing here on the bridge with all this snow in the way? It’s dark. It’s cold. Everyone wants to get home to their families, to their dinners and their warm beds.”
“Don’t you think this has gotten a little out of hand?” I sigh, shaking my head. “Let Sasha go. She hasn’t done anything. Let’s just hit the re-set button. I’ll go back to boosting cars for you. You’ll stop trying to murder the people I care about. Sound fair?”
Jericho just laughs. “No such thing as a re-set button in our world, Rooke. We all have excellent memories and suspicious minds. Every time I look at you, I’m going to be wondering if you’re betraying me. I’ll feel the burn in my chest from where you shot me. And every time I look at you, I’ll see this beautiful little treat here and I’ll be sad that I didn’t kill her. Or at least fuck her.”
“Still time, boss,” Alfonse says, sneering. “Rape the bitch. Make him watch. It’ll serve him right for killing our boys.” He’s trying to make me react, and I want to. Really fucking badly. Losing my head right now would be disastrous, though. Instead, I slowly turn my head to look at him, sending him a look laden with promises.
I am going to hurt you.
I am going to rip out your tongue.
I am going to make you bleed.
I am going to make you wish you were never born.
I am going to fuckingendyou.
Alfonse obviously isn’t taking me seriously. He laughs, pressing the knife closer to Sasha’s side, and she freezes, going absolutely still. My beautiful, precious, broken Sasha. She looks like she’s prepared for what comes next. She’s afraid, but there’s also a weary, resigned look in her eye as she stares at me. It’s as if she’s telling me it’s all right, that she’s okay with whatever comes next. It’snotall right, though. I amnotokay with whatever comes next.
I don’t make plans. Ever since my eighteenth birthday, I have refused to look beyond the next few days of my life. The unknown has always held an appeal to me, and besides…what’s the point in looking to the future when your freedom could be snatched away at any moment? Things have been different with Sasha, though. I’ve allowed myself to peek beyond next week. Next month. Next year, even. I’ve allowed myself to imagine a life with her, and it’s a good life. I won’t give it up. I fucking refuse. I’ll give up working for New York’s underground elite. I’ll give up the money. I’ll give up the thrill and the adrenaline. I’ll give it all up before I sacrifice the chance to make her happy.
Sasha locks her eyes onto me and doesn’t look away. A plan forms in my head during the brief moments we’re staring at each other. It’s a horrible plan, but it’s going to have to do. I left my gun in the Skyline. I do still have the throwing knives I took from my go-bag earlier back at the house, though. I’m just going to have to hope that my aim is good.
“Rape isn’t always the answer,” Jericho says chidingly. “And god knows where her cunt has been, anyway. This one looks a little…used.” He traces a hand down Sasha’s cheek, and she flinches, disgust written all over her face. I have napalm for blood, and it’s burning me up. I’ve never known such rage. He shouldn’t be touching her. He shouldn’t be talking about her. Still, I don’t give the bastards what they want. I breathe through the insanity my anger brings, and I form the shape with my hand. A shape I know Sasha will see, that will mean something to her.
She showed me this shape in my bed last night. She had her arms wrapped around her knees, her hair a dark, curling waterfall of chocolate and cinnamon and honey around her face, framing her sadness. Dinosaur. Elephant. Monkey. Bird. But not just bird.Duck.
I hold my index and middle fingers together, then tap them against the pad of my thumb. I don’t hold my hand up to my face. That would be too obvious. Sasha sees, though. The years of raising a son and speaking sign language with him has made her perceptive to even the slightest hand movement. She looks at me, shocked; she understands what I want her to do, but she doesn’t look happy about it. She slowly shakes her head, tears welling in her eyes. I stand firm. She’s scared, I know, but she’s braver than she realizes. She can do this.
Jericho leers at Sasha, grinning sadistically. “I could carve up her face. Maybe that would soften the blow for you, Cuervo. If she’s disfigured, maybe you won’t give a shit about her anymore.”
“I’m going to use that blade onyou,” I say darkly. “I’m going to cut your fucking dick off and tossthatin the river. Then I’m going to let Sasha drive that knife up in between your ribs, and I’m going to fucking smile as she gets to watch you die. How doesthatsound?”
“Sounds like you’re dreaming to me, my friend.”
