Page 62 of Roma Queen
Pasha lowers his gun. The very embodiment of a tsunami, he is the ocean pulling back from the shore, exposing the bereft, bare bones of his pain one moment. He is a furious wave the next, surging forward at breakneck speeds, obliterating everything in his path.
I don’t stop him.
Pasha brings the gun smashing down on the back of Lazlo’s head, and a burst of blood sprays into the air. The man hollers, releasing a wordless gasp of pain as he tumbles forward. On all fours, he tries to crawl away…but Pasha’s not about to allow that. He fists a handful of Lazlo’s dark hair and stops him in his tracks, then brings the weapon down again on the top of Lazlo’s skull with a sickening crack.
“You sick cunt,” he snarls. “Sick, twisted piece of shit. My grandfather,andmy father? Why? WHY HIM, TOO?” Lazlo slumps onto the floor. Pasha grabs him by the back of the shirt and spins him over, then takes hold of his collar, suspending him three inches off the ground. “Answer the fucking question!”
Lazlo’s eyes are unfocused; his teeth are stained bright red with blood. “Because I made a promise. After Calliope died, I swore… “
“You sworewhat?”
“That no Rivin king would…survive. That every…single…one of you wouldpay...”
Pasha releases his hold on the man’s shirt. He takes a moment to look over the man who has caused him so much pain, who has caused me so much pain, and all I can see is the disgust in his eyes. “That’swhy you wanted me to accept the crown? So I could tick the box and assume a role, so you could fulfil your little oath?”
“Iwasgoing to let you live. But then you stuck your nose in where it didn’t belong. You interfered in my righteous work.”
A stifled moan interrupts their exchange. Jesus…There’s someone behind me. I swing around, panicked. I’m ready to pull the trigger, seconds away from doing it, but then I see the mane of blonde hair and I come to a standstill.
Oh my god…
Holy, shit, is that…? It’s Sarah!
When the lights came back on, I saw Lazlo and everything else just fell away. I haven’t looked anywhere but at him and at Pasha, standing over him, beating him like a man possessed. My friend’s tied to a chair, slumped over, her body wedged between a cabinet and a shelf, almost entirely out of sight. I bite back a cry of relief as I run to her, momentarily forgetting the two men behind me.
“Oh, god, Sarah. Sarah, it’s okay. It’s me. It’s Zara. Don’t worry, we’re gonna have you out of here in no time, I promise, I—” My words die on my lips when she raises her head, her hair back out of her face, and I see the hideous, rough-edged mask that’s covering her face. Her closed eyes are the only part of her I can see; she opens them weakly, her eyelids shuttering, and she meets my gaze. Holy Christ. A loud sob forces its way out of my mouth. What has he done? With shaking hands, I touch my fingers to the edge of the mask, trying to carefully pull off.
Sarah screams out in pain, the sound muffled, like her mouth is full of cotton wool, and I immediately withdraw my hands. This is beyond cruelty or malice. This is an act of fucking torture. How anyone could have done this to her, I don’t understand. “Oh, Sarah…” I whisper, sweeping the rest of her hair back so that it’s not covering the mask’s eyeholes. “Don’t worry. It’s okay. We’ll fix this. We’ll fix it, I swear.”
Her eyes are shining, brimming with tears. One falls, and my heart sunders itself in two. I have to get this off her. I have to get it off herright now. Spinning around, I first take a moment to search with frantic hands through the cluttered, jumbled items on the table top, trying to find something sharp. Anything that will cut through the thick, industrial zip ties that are tying my friend to the chair. I find a box-cutter with a rusting blade and I get to work, sawing through the rigid plastic at Sarah’s wrists and her ankles until each of the ties has snapped and she’s free.
“Wait here. Don’t go anywhere,” I command. Then I turn again, back to Pasha. He’s still laying into Lazlo, the gun gone now as he rains his fists down, hitting the guy so hard it sounds like he’s breaking bone with each and every blow. His hands are soaked in blood, his knuckles split open, and his teeth are bared. He doesn’t look up until I’m standing right next to him.
Abruptly, he snaps back into himself, the brutal resolve that had turned his features to carved stone softening when he realizes where he is and what he’s doing. “Fuck, Firefly, I’m…I’m sorry.” He wipes at his face with the back of his hand, streaking his cheek with blood—his own and Lazlo’s.
Limp as a dead fish, Lazlo grins, displaying two shattered front teeth. He cackles, frothy blood bubbling at the corners of his mouth. “Careful. Don’t let her see your…true colors, Your…Highness. She puts on…a good…show, but you’re gonna…frighten her away with…your violent tendencies.”
Pasha recoils, as if Lazlo’s words have hit their mark. He drops his hold on the man, rubbing at his forehead with the tips of his fingers. “I wasn’t going to kill him,” he mutters.
Gently, I push Pasha back, and then I drop like a stone, driving my knee into Lazlo’s chest, bringing the gun I stole from Seo-Jun up and pressing the cold, unforgiving muzzle right in between the motherfucker’s eyes.
My finger hovers over the trigger. “I don’t give a shit if he has violent tendencies. I have a few of my own.” I don’t scream. I don’t lash out. I don’t even blink. My tone’s steady and calm as I cock the hammer. “Do not presume to know me, you fucking cretin. Don’t presume to think that you know where my boundaries lie. Youdon’tknow anything about me. Where is Shelta?”
Lazlo’s smile fades away. “Tied up in the dark somewhere,” he says. “I wonder if she saw it coming.”
I lean my weight onto the gun. Lazlo winces against the pain as the muzzle presses into his forehead. “Where?” I repeat.
“It wasn’t supposed to go this way, y’know. You were…s’posed to fall in love with him, sure. But…”
“But what? We weren’t supposed to be better than you? Stronger than you? We weren’t supposed tosurviveyou?”
Lazlo swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “You won’t kill me, Calliope. You don’t have it in you.”
A burst of rage flares inside me. I surprise even myself as I pull back the gun and piledrive the thing into his face. “I’m not Calliope. Believe me, Iwillkill you if you don’t tell us where Shelta is.”
“And then what? You just let…me go free?”
“The cops can have you. Don’t worry, I’m sure your lawyer will declare insanity and you’ll be packed off to some prison for the criminally insane. Those bastards have it pretty easy.”
