Page 85 of King of Ruin

I hear Lucia’s voice in the phone, but I can’t make out the words.

But by the look on Maddie’s face, pain pulling her features taut, I know my world is about to explode.

I drop down on my haunches, my elbows coming to my knees. I try to touch her calf, but she bats at my hand.

“Maddie?” I ask, my voice nearly breaking. “What’s wrong?”

“I need your address.”

Those words turn my insides cold. “My address?”

“The place that I am. I need to know where that is. I kept meaning to ask. It’s so stupid. I don’t even know you, why wouldn’t I make you give me your address?”

“You know me,” I respond, my voice low.

Lucia cuts me off and this time I hear what she says. “If he hurts you, I’ll kill him.”

Is Lucia talking about me? First of all, I would never harm Maddie. But the idea of Lucia inflicting any damage on me is laughable.

Vincent is a professional killer, and he couldn’t take me down.

“Tell me what happened,” I try again. If I could just insert some calm conversation into whatever is happening here…

“Address,” she cries, her voice breaking on a sob. “Now, Roman.”

“Eight-one-one Ash Street.”

“Did you hear that, Lucia?” More words from Lucia I can’t hear. “No. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

Lucia’s voice grows louder so that I hear it. “We’re not hanging up, Maddie. I’m worried.”

“If I’m not on the street when you pull up, call the police,” Maddie answers and then hangs up the call.

The police? Fuck me.

For several seconds we just sit there. Me balancing on the balls of my feet, so tense I’m ready to break, and her, ashen, her features contorted in pain.

I don’t want to ask again, and I’m trying to give her the time she needs to calm down.

Her fingers tremble as they slide across her forehead. “Why did a city inspector just serve foreclosure papers to my house?”

I close my eyes. “Fuck.”

“Tell me, Roman. Why?” Her voice shakes but I hear the steel in it too. “Why wouldyouforeclose on my house?” She emphasizes the word you. She knows.

“Maddie—”

“Don’t,” she cuts me off. “Try to tell me it wasn’t you.”

“It was me.” I’m not lying to her. Not now. Not ever again.

I hear the sob that escapes her lips. It echoes through me, shattering any composure I have left. My face sinks into my hands.

“So what? You brought me here? Took my phone…” She breaks on another sob. “Then what?”

“Then nothing. I brought you here to keep you safe.”

“Taking my house keeps me safe? Explain to me why you would to that?” I wanted to talk, but this is brutal. Still, I owe her the truth.

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