Page 50 of Roma Queen
God, he cannotbe allowed anywhere near Zara. No fucking way. There has to be a way to get that gun from him. If I slip around him, making it around the back of him…
As if she can hear my thoughts, Kezia’s eyes meet mine over Lazlo’s shoulder and she shakes her head. Just one, frightened shake, followed by a whimper. Lazlo slowly turns around. “I wouldn’t, Superhero. I’m in a terrible fucking mood. You do anything rash, and I might be tempted to put an end to our conversation a little earlier than planned.”
“What makes you think you’d be able to stop me, old man? You’re alone down here. You wouldn’t stand a fucking chance against me in a fair fight.”
Lazlo laughs, turning to face me as he stands. Holding out his hands, gun waving in the air, he gestures to the maintenance room and the woman beside him tied to the chair. “What about any of this screamsfairto you?”
“Fine. Fight dirty, you fuck. Makes no difference to me. Don’t you remember the last time we went toe-to-toe?”
Lazlo smirks—such an infuriating motherfucker. I really am looking forward to caving his fucking face in. He crosses his arms. “Distinctly. That really wasn’t fun. The idea of being disemboweled never appealed to me before that day. Definitely doesn’t appeal to me now. Stomach wounds are so messy. Painful, too. I would have preferred if you’d stabbed me in the shoulder, or even in the—”
“I wasn’t taking requests, asshole. I was trying to stop you from raping a teenaged boy.” That stops him dead in his tracks. The smirk slowly slides off his face, leaving a sour expression behind.
“Rape is such an ugly word. I don’t like to use it.”
“No one likes using it, you fucking psycho. It’s an ugly term, that describes an ugly act.”
Lazlo casually shrugs one shoulder. “I prefer to call it…penance. It wasn’t about me. It never is, Pasha. It’s always aboutthem. If they behave, they don’t get punished. If they act up…” A flicker of a frown draws his eyebrows together. For a second, the man looks like he’s in an enormous amount of pain. “…you get punished.”
It doesn’t escape me that Lazlo started his sentence with ‘Iftheydon’t,’ but finished it with, ‘youget punished.’ Wherever his mind went when he paused just now, it wasn’t a nice place. And it washewho was being punished. “It’s the only way to make sure boys become real men. If they don’t respect you, if they don’t obey you…then youmakethem do it. Children are mollycoddled today. Too much pandering. They think everything’s just supposed to go their way, no matter what. Sometimes…they need a rude awakening. I appear to be the only person willing to teach them a lesson.”
Holy fucking shit. He…hebelievesthis. It’s there, plain as day, on his face. He’s not making excuses for himself. He truly believes that assaulting kids is his duty, and only he is strong enough to carry it out. “Jesus Christ, Lazlo. You’re sick in the fucking head if you think hurting a child like that is the best way to teach them about respect. You’re fuckingevil.”
A furious fire has kindled in his eyes. He stabs his index finger at me, spitting as he speaks. “Don’t! Don’t youdaresay that!”
“What? You don’t want me to call you evil? If you can think of a be—”
“No. Jesus. Ju—just don’t fucking—don’t fucking use his name like that.”
“Jesus?”
Lazlo closes his eyes, face going blank, like he’s trying to talk himself down from a ledge. When he opens his eyes again, jabbing the gun at me, he seems to have regained his composure. “There’s no need to say Jesus Christ like it…like it means nothing. It does. It means something.”
“Since when have you been religious? You find God after I stabbed you in the stomach?”
Lazlo bares his teeth—an animalistic, threatening display. “I didn’tfindanything. I’ve always believed. I was trying to tell you before you started smashing the speakers off the walls. You weren’t listening.”
“How could I not? You were ranting and raving like a fucking lunatic. Your mother died on the side of a railway line. My grandfather fucked over the woman who took you in and cared for you. She died because of him.”
“Before that! Before she died! She knew she was dying, so she took me somewhere safe. She took me to achurch. Somewhere I would be taken care of. Somewhere I would learn right from wrong!”
“Shame the lesson didn’t stick.” Lazlo’s head tilts to one side. He looks like he doesn’t catch my meaning. The fucking gall of the guy. “The church. I doubt they taught youthiswas right from wrong, did they, Lazlo?”
Sarah hangs her head. She’s crying. Her blonde waves tumble into her face, obscuring the iron mask, but I can hear her stifled sobs.
Lazlo doesn’t react. Doesn’t defend himself. He just looks at me, as if he’s looking straight through me…and there it is, like a fist to the gut, winding me in one devious sucker punch.
I was wrong.
They did.
Theydidteach him that this was right from wrong. That’s where he was taught about discipline and respect. Where it was drilled intohim.
The church.
Fuck.
Blinking rapidly, Lazlo inhales, still making sure to keep the gun aimed at me as he steps away from Sarah. In four strides, he’s standing in front of a bank of screens that are mounted on the wall to the left. I see the room filled with cots first. There are numerous other feeds, displaying a number of other rooms.
