Page 69 of His Queen

How is this happening right now? One minute I was playing hide and seek, and the next my world is turned upside down. Everything I thought I knew about my life got shattered into pieces. But there’s too much doubt, too much uncertainty. I can’t be here alone.

“I need to talk to Nicoli first,” I say, starting backward toward the door.

“Are you out of your goddamn mind?” His voice rises with agitation. “They’ll kill us both if we don’t leave now.”

I’m shaking my head while my pulse races with fear. “They won’t hurt me.”

“Mira, there’s no time for you to figure shit out right now. They will be back any minute, and what do you think they will do to you if they find you here, exposing their dark little secret? You’ll be as good as dead, just like me.”

“I need to know the truth first,” I say, standing firm in my decision. “At least let me go get Maximo. He’ll know what to do.”

Marco looks at me with disbelief. “You’re willing to risk my life because you’re having trouble believing me—your own flesh and blood?”

I take a deep breath and try to steady my nerves. Nicoli always says I should never make decisions when the sound of my heartbeat drowns out reason. Marco’s story is too far-fetched for me to believe fully, but at the same time, I know there’s a possibility that he’s telling the truth. The Del Rossas have always been shrouded in secrecy, and over the years, I’ve heard the rumors of them being involved in illegal activities. But the fact remains, they’ve never hurt me. Always cared for me. I have to speak to Maximo. He’ll know what to do.

“Untie me, Mira,” he grits out, jerking his hands, screeching the feet of the chair across the floor. “Untie me now!”

“I don’t know what to do.” Hot tears sting my eyes, and I take another step back.

“Untie me! Untie me! Untie me!” he yells, spit exploding from his mouth, his eyes rays of anger.

“No!” I cry back. “I can’t.”

“Sweet Jesus,” he starts before his maniacal laughter rings around the room. “My God, you’ve always been a little coward, haven’t you? Running to Mom with everything. This is all your fault, you know?”

Ice splints up my spine.

“All of it,” he continues, and he suddenly seems detached, like his mind shifted gears. “If you hadn’t lied to Mom, none of this ever would have happened.”

A giant hole opens in my chest, and for a moment, I can’t even breathe. “What are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” he spits back at me. “Or maybe you can’t remember the ramblings of a four-year-old girl who infected everyone around her.”

“I don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I’m saying that if you didn’t lie to Mom about me, they’d still be alive.”

“Lie about what?” I say, my salty tears splashing on my lips. “What did I lie about?”

Marco leans his head back, laughing again, sweat starting to drip down the sides of his face as he looks up at the ceiling. “You had it all wrong, Mira. You were a confused little girl who thought being given a little attention was…inappropriate,” he sneers. “That’s the problem with what they teach young kids these days, about how it’s your body and no one is allowed to touch you without your consent. Then stupid little children like you think that an older brother touching them is wrong when it’s nothing more than a little sibling affection.”

Air is knocked straight out of my lungs as I listen to him speak, saying things that don’t make sense, yet suddenly there are these images inside my head that are splitting my mind in two. Flashes of memories start flooding back, unbidden and unwelcome. But it’s more like scenes from a familiar movie, one I’ve watched before but have forgotten about—like it’s not my life I’m seeing.

“Mom believed me?” Those three words take all my energy as I whisper them.

“Of course, she didn’t. She saw straight through your lies. Except for Maximo, the little prick—he told Mom he saw me do it. Little fucker!” he shouts, and fright jolts right into me, causing me to stumble and fall on my ass.

“They should have killed him, too. I fucking told them to! I told them to kill him and make it hurt, but they couldn’t even do that right! Ferrero motherfuckers!” he shouts in sheer delirium, his chin covered in his spit, tears escaping from cold eyes swirling with madness. “If I can just get this rope loose.” He struggles behind his back, the chair skidding along the concrete floor.

“It was you?” I cry with my hand on my chest, inching backward. “You had them killed?”

“They were going to send me away,” he growls. “They were going to send me to some juvenile fucking hospital, saying I was sick in the fucking head. I’m not sick in the head, I told them. I’m not fucking sick in the head. But noooo one believed me. No one.”

“So you had them killed?”

More of his manic laughter poisons the air. “It was so damn easy. All I had to do was get the security guard at the gate high, switch the cameras off, and leave the back door open for them.” He shrugs. “Problem solved.”

“Them?”

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