Page 93 of Twisted Ties
Shit. Just when things were getting interesting. Just when we’d started to talk. Just when I’d had a glimpse of what my little rabbit is truly capable of.
I peer down at my feet, finding my gift abandoned on the floor. I scoop the boy’s teeth into my free palm and jangle them together like loose change. Then I tip them back into my pocket.
She didn’t like that gift either. I should have gone with the damn heart after all. I should have dug the knife into his ribs and cracked him open like a walnut.
The knife is still warm in my left hand, light reflecting off the blade and bouncing on the walls. I throw it through the air. Like she did when she killed the man, the memory printed clearly within the knife’s magic. It hits the far wall with a twang, the blade stabbing deep into the plaster. I stride through the front room to reclaim it, pulling it from the wall and admiring my handiwork. A deep slit marks the wall. The beginning of a letter. I grin again, sinking the blade into the plaster, adding more cuts to the one that already exists. Over and over again until I’ve carved out her name and mine.
Side by side. Together, like they should be.
It only takesme a few hours to ride to Lowsky’s compound on my bike, deep in the wastelands, far from the authorities’ reach. I could slide through time and space again. But it makes me feel nauseous and besides, I like my bike.
The compound is fiercely guarded by patrolling men, by firepower and by dogs, and hidden by complex spells Lowsky paid a fortune to obtain.
However, security’s tighter than usual. Twice as manymen, all looking twitchy as hell, eyeing me with suspicion tonight rather than the usual boredom.
I weave my way through the various booby traps – half of them I set myself – and right into the heart of the compound. There are men and trucks everywhere, people rushing from one place to another, shifting arms and shouting orders.
I watch them from my bike. Lowsky’s never told me anything beyond what I needed to know. I’ve always been content with that. I only need to know one thing. Who I’m killing next. The other stuff is boring.
But that little rabbit has burrowed her way under my skin and the killing isn’t the only thing I’m hot for now. Maybe I should do what they were always telling me to do as a kid, start paying attention.
I head to the main building, fortified to the fucking nth degree, through to the place where Lowsky likes to hold court.
It’s some fuck-off large room, with a jacuzzi at one end, a flat screen TV hanging on the wall and in the other half, Lowsky’s leather-backed armchair. I’m surprised the dude didn’t buy himself a throne.
He’s sitting on it now, his latest girl perched in his lap trying to look seductive and not terrified. Several men stand in a circle around him, regaling information and giving reports. I hover by the door, jiggling my knife in my pocket, whistling to myself. When Lowsky finally spots me, he shoves the girl off his lap and orders everyone out. The girl is so relieved she has to force herself not to sprint out of the room, her eyes trained to the floor.
The other men aren’t so intimidated; they all look at me as they pass through the doorway, although no one nods or says hello.
I don’t care.
Lowsky’s the only one who’s ever been prepared to talk to me.
“Renzo,” he says, beckoning me forward. “Tell me it’s done.”
“It’s done,” I say simply, because that’s what he wants me to say, right?
He frowns and exhales, trying to keep his patience. “Is it, though?”
I flop down on the floor, crossing my legs out in front of me and leaning back on one arm.
“No,” I say, holding his gaze.
A thunder roars across his face but his voice is quiet when he speaks again.
“Why not? She’s just a fucking girl, Renzo. Unregistered. Untrained. Or so you tell me.”
I pick at my nails, thick with dirt from the forest.
“Yeah, why exactly am I wasting my time with a girl?” I ask.
“She killed my brother,” he hisses.
“He was a little shit,” I say.
Marcus is silent again. He can’t argue with that. Joey was one hell of a little shit. Couldn’t control his temper. Threw his weight and his name around. I spent a lot of my time mopping up his messes.
“She still killed him and now she has to pay.”
