Page 63 of Roma Queen
Lazlo laughs. “I’m not going to prison, silly girl.”
I lift the gun again. “Then you’re going in the ground.”
Lazlo lifts his chin, staring at me. He’s prepared. Ready. Daring me to follow through. I’ve never been one to disappoint…
I pull the trigger, and the raucouscrack!of the gunshot nearly deafens me. The recoil kicks up my arm, throwing it into the air, but it doesn’t matter—I was true to my aim. Not right between Lazlo’s eyes, as I threatened, but in his right shoulder. Trembling, Lazlo looks at the smoking hole the bullet created as it tore through his flesh and bone and buried itself in the concrete beneath him. His eyes are wide, watering, for the first time filled with fear.
Pasha’s behind me. He’s saying something, cursing with fervor, but I don’t really hear him. All I can hear is the ringing from the gunshot, and my own heart beating steadily, evenly, like a tribal drum.
“Crazy bitch,” Lazlo whimpers, trying to reach across himself to press a hand to the wound. I grab him by the wrist and slam his arm to the ground. My finger’s on the trigger, then it’s pulling the trigger. The gun kicks back in the air again, and low and behold, there’s another smoking hole right through the center of Lazlo’s palm.
His scream is loud enough to wake the dead. It echoes around the bunker, up the hatch, and out into the tunnel, fleeing this place, just as I imagine Lazlo would like to flee.
“Firefly.” Pasha’s hand rests on my shoulder. “No more. Give me the gun,” he says quietly.
I could argue with him. He can’tmakeme hand over the weapon, but…his tone’s firm. He won’t take no for an answer. When I look up at him, his jaw is set and his nostrils are flared, but his eyes are rife with concern. He’s worried about me. Worried for me, actually. There’s a difference. He knows I won’t be the same if I pull the trigger a third time, because I’ll be unloading bullets into Lazlo’s chest or his head, and that’s a veryfinalthing to do. Iwasready to do it. I was. Iwouldhave been strong enough.
Slowly, I hand over the gun.
“See. You’re not a murderer,” Lazlo pants.
“Maybe not.” I turn my attention back to him. “But you’re gonna wish I was in a moment. You’re gonna beg for death by the time I’m done with you.” I shove my thumb into the hole in his shoulder, mildly surprised that I don’t freak out from the feel of the blood, the sinew, the shredded meat of him giving way and making room for my thumb as I press it in deeper. Yeah, the wet heat of the wound doesn’t feel great, but I can handle it for a moment if it means I get to cause this motherfucker pain.
Lazlo’s piercing scream adds itself to the cacophony of horrors cycling around in my head.
“Zara, go easy,” Pasha warns.
“You were knocking him senseless a moment ago,” I growl.
“Yeah. And you saw I was losing my shit, and you stopped me. Now, I’m returning the favor.”
I dig my thumb in even harder, and Lazlo’s back arches off the concrete as he howls. “I’mnotlosing my shit,” I grind out.
“Look at yourself. Is this something you’d normally be doing?”
That’s all it takes. Suddenly, I realize I’m kneeling on top of a guy, covered in blood, and I have my thumb buried up to the knuckle inside the gunshot wound that I fucking gave him. Reeling away from Lazlo, I sink back, falling onto my ass, my throat swelling, aching, closing up, making it difficult to breathe. “He shouldn’t have put that mask on her,” I pant.
Pasha’s there, next to me, guiding an errant strand of hair back behind my ear. He’s so pale, even his lips are washed out, devoid of any real color. His hands are steady, though. He’s in complete control. “I know. I know. Don’t worry. We’ll get her out of that thing in a second.” He pushes away from me, moving to Lazlo, crouching down next to the croaking, bleeding sack of shit. “I killed you once. I drove a knife into your gut. I left you to bleed out in the grass, and I didn’t lose a single night’s sleep over it. I won’t have any problem with a repeat performance. Tell me where my mother is, and I’ll let you live. Refuse, and the crows will be feasting on your fucking eyeballs by dawn. Your call. You have three seconds to make your decision. I wouldn’t recommend testing my patience.”
Lazlo’s bravado is gone. His eyes burn with hate as he cranes his neck, lifting his head from the ground. “The Motel 6 on Drover. Room fourteen.”
“And she’s not in any danger of dying?”
Lazlo chokes on his own blood, spitting it out onto the concrete beside him. “She’s waiting there for me to bring her your fucking head.”
Pasha blows out a long, tired, weary sigh. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you lied. And I suppose my mother’s gonna have to be disappointed. She won’t be getting my head today. But maybe I’ll bring her yours.”
Thirty
ZARA
The world seemsto be spinning in reverse as we make our way back up to the surface. Lazlo’s unsteady on his feet, but he can walk. Pasha practically drags him up the ladder out of the bunker, and then shoves him down the tunnel at gunpoint, growling and cursing through his teeth every time the old man stumbles. Sarah’s weak and unsteady and leans on me heavily as I guide her back the way Garrett brought me earlier, toward the electrical substation and the ladder that leads up to the van.
The second ladder is difficult for everyone concerned. It's hard to tell if it's an act or not, Lazlo having been shot twice, but he screams in agony as Pasha drives him upward. It takes a series of threats and a promise of even more pain to coerce him up the rungs toward street level.
I come up behind Sarah, letting her lean her bodyweight against mine as she struggles and fights to ascend. By the time I heave myself back into the dirty, stinking alleyway, Pasha's already dumped Lazlo in the back of the Sprinter and is helping Sarah into the passenger seat.
It all happens quickly from there. I scoot in with Sarah on the bench seat, my body pressed against hers as she sobs softly underneath the steel mask that's still strapped to her face. Pasha drives the Sprinter around the block into a parking structure. He locates the Mustang and unloads Lazlo into the trunk of his car, daring him with fierce eyes to try anything stupid as he shuts him inside.
