Page 26 of Roma Queen
Archie railed against answering my questions from the get-go and made our entire exchange incredibly difficult. Then, when hedidanswer my question, he was vague at best and sent me on my way without so much as a by-your-leave. After the way Shelta then treated me that night, I haven't given much thought to Archie and his coin, or my key, but now that he's standing here fretting over the damn silver dollar like I stole it from him or something, I’m beginning to feel a little irked again.
“Don't worry,” he says, pulling at the collar of his jacket. “You don't need to leave. You and Pasha are more than welcome to stay. I'll be by later to collect a few things.”
“Wait!” A cyclone of questions are whirling around inside my head. Since we arrived at the Rivin camp, I haven't had a chance to ask anyone anything... Aside from Shireen and Shelta, Archie’s the first member of the clan I’ve engaged in conversation with since Pasha and I descended into the glen. I take a hurried step forward, calling after him again. “Archie, wait. Can I ask you something?”
His dark, sharp eyes are displeased as he meets my gaze. “You and your questions,Gadje. You're going to ask the wrong person the wrong thing one day. An inquisitive mind will only get you into trouble around here.”
I point blank ignore him. I've had enough warnings from these people to last me a lifetime, and I'm absolutely fucking sick to death of no one being straight with me. “Tell me about Lazlo,” I demand. “What kind of man was he? What kind of human being?”
I couldn't really give a shit about Lazlo, what he was like or how he interacted with the other members of the clan. Even uttering his name makes me feel dirty, but I need to understand him to figure out his motives. If I can do that then perhaps I can predict what he's going to do next.
Beneath the scruff of his beard and his wiry, steel-grey eyebrows, Archie turns a startling shade of crimson. “Lazlo was a con-man. Took what he could from whoever he could. He was toxic. Poisonous. I said it at the time, clear and loud, and I'll say it again now. That man should never have been allowed to join our clan.”
“Wait. So, Lazlo wasn't born into the clan?”
“He was not.” Archie confirms. “Neither was I, but at least I came from traveling stock. I understood the clan’s ways. Lazlo knew our traditions, but he never really understood what it meant to be a part of this Rivin clan. He had no respect, and no will to learn.”
“Where did he come from, then?”
Archie lets out a stiff, tight snarl of humorless laughter. “Lazlo was agadje. He was an outsider, just like you.”
Thirteen
ZARA
Archie’slong gone by the time Pasha arrives with our breakfast in hand. I tell him about my run-in with the old man, and Pasha nods knowingly when I mention the coin.
“He's had that thing forever. Probably lost his shit when he realized it was missing. Someone probably palmed it when he was bartering with you. It's never been easy to get information out of him. He's a great guy, heart as big as an ocean, but he's a watcher. A listener. Ask him for information and it's like trying to get blood from a stone.”
He has no idea how true that statement is. The night of the fair I was ready to launch myself at him for being so difficult. I'm not really thinking about Archie anymore though. I've moved on. Now, all I'm really concerned about is the information.
“He did tell me about Lazlo. Did you know Lazlo was an outsider?” I ask. “Archie said he was like me.”
Pasha bites into a slice of toast. He chews quickly and swallows. “Yeah, of course. Everyone knew. He was accepted into the clan, but that didn't really make much of a difference. He was weird, and people have a long memory here. You can be accepted into the clan, but some people will never forget you weren't born into it. To some, you will always be agadjeno matter what.”
No surprises there. I'm pensive, lost in my thoughts as I eat the plate of eggs and bacon Pasha brought back from Shireen’s for me. Everything tastes like ash in my mouth, and my mind is reeling. “How long do you think he'll wait?” I ask. “What if he doesn’t know the clan moved on? What if he's been calling that payphone outside my apartment for the last twenty-four hours and he's losing patience? If anything happens to Sarah, I ...”
Pasha drops his half-eaten toast onto his plate and gets to his feet, moving across the small space of thevardo. He's pulling me to him the next second, crushing me in his arms. “He knows. Don't worry. He's a fucking psycho. I can guarantee you that he's been spying on the clan ever since they arrived in Spokane. He's probably been watching them for weeks. There's not a single doubt in my mind that he knows exactly where we are and that you and I are here with the clan. He won't do anything to Sarah until we’ve done what he asked me to and we’re back in Spokane. He's waited three years to exact his revenge. Three years, drawing this out when he could have undoubtedly hurt me the moment the clan left Washington. He didn't,though. He's been waiting, savoring this moment. The very last thing he's going to do is lose his cool in the space of twenty-four hours and throw away his only leverage.”
I think back to Lazlo’s last phone call, and I can’t help but shiver. Pasha caught him trying to assault Leo. Pasha was the one who took a knife to Lazlo's gut and nearly killed him, so it makes sense that he’d be angry with him, but Lazlo insinuated that he’d been watching me for some time, too. That he’d been pulling strings in my life, for reasons unknown. I’ve lost hours since that call trying to figure out what he could possibly have meant.
What I could possibly have done to upset him or earn myself his attention? None of it makes any sense. I've never had any interactions with the Roma people before. Aside from having really shitty, useless parents, my life has been fairly ordinary up to now.
If I’d been in Pasha's shoes when he stumbled into thatvardoand found Lazlo attacking Leo, I would have done exactly the same thing he did. I would have picked up whatever weapon I could find at the time, and I would have used it on him, no doubt about it. I wouldn't have hesitated. I wouldn't have flinched. I don't for one second think that Pasha did the wrong thing. The truth is, I wasn't there that night. I didn't pick up a weapon and use it against Lazlo. I've never done anything that might make someone seek revenge against me.
So, why then, would this man be so invested in connecting my life with Pasha's? The sheer depth to this mystery is mind-boggling to me. I will find no peace until I’ve discovered the truth and we have taken Lazlo down. I've done my best to avoid thinking about how we’ll accomplish that.
First, we need to track Lazlo down and stop him from hurting Sarah, but then what? What happens when we have him disarmed and secured, unable to inflict any more damage upon the people of Spokane?
Pasha and I are so different in so many ways. He's a fighter, a brawler. He is infinitely gentle and careful with me, but there is an undeniably dangerous edge to him. He won't hesitate to hurt Lazlo again if he thinks the man poses a threat to anyone he cares about. Will I be able to stomach that? To witness Pasha hurting someone out of rage, or anger, or in the name of justice?
There’s a part of me that I don’t even want to acknowledge right now. A frightening, dark, menacing shadow that seems to have fallen over me, preoccupying my thoughts day and night. What ifIwant to hurt Lazlo? What ifIwant to punish him for what he’s done?
Working as a dispatcher for so long, I have always had complete faith in the police department. I've always respected their authority and the need for law and order, but this monster killed a little boy, and heinvolvedme. If I hadn't been the one to take Corey Petrov's call then perhaps I’d feel differently, butIheard the fear in Corey's voice.Ifelt his sheer terror as if it were my own, and there’s no denying that now.
I return Pasha's hug, digging my fingers into his back as he holds onto me. I can't help but think it. If Lazlo was on his knees in front of me, and I had a gun in my hand, would I be able to stop myself from pulling the trigger? Would I be able to show him mercy, or would the fire in my blood demand that I take action?
Fourteen
