Page 169 of Rome: The Ballerina

He obliterated the space between us and pulled me into his arms. My heart broke all over again. Like a baby, he held me, rocking me back and forth.

“I never wanted this for you, baby. I never wanted any of this. This isn’t you.”

Though muffled, I could hear the emotions etched in every word Chem spoke.

“This isn’t you, Rome. It'll never be you. You’re supposed to keep your hands clean. Let me get dirty for you, baby. I always have. I always will. Don’t do that again. Don’t.”

I wept in his arms. My body leaned on him for support. He’d been my rock my entire life. My savior. My stability. My security. Tonight was no different.

“A life for a life, Teddy.”

“A life for a life,” he agreed, pulling away.

“How’d yo– you–” I stuttered.

“Don’t insult me, Rome. It’s my job to know. It pains me that I didn’t know sooner. I’ve kept an eye on her since you touched down in Clarke. In the back of my mind, I always knew she’d be a problem. She’s been unstable since she was a kid.

“Instead of getting her the help she truly needed, her mother ignored all the signs that she had a fucked up daughter in this world. Not even she deserves life. My niece or nep–”

“Nephew,” I breathed out. “It was a boy. I’ve seen him too many times to think otherwise.”

“My nephew lost his life and it hadn’t even begun.”

I shook my head. “He was never going to see the light of day, Teddy.”

“It doesn’t matter, baby. It doesn’t fucking matter.”

“You’re right.”

Silence.

“How careful were you?”

“Very.”

“Elaborate,” he demanded.

“I knew that if the Vultures brought home the ring, the city would be lit up with fireworks. Gunfire. Loud music. Partying. Complete distractions. I timed myself perfectly. By the time the light show began, my mission was ending.”

“And, the gun. Where’d it come from?”

“Rugger,” I admitted, “in case of an emergency.”

He nodded.

“Fair enough. I’m going to need it.”

“Okay.”

“Go shower, baby. Meet me downstairs in ten.”

“I’ll need more t–”

“Meet me downstairs in ten minutes if you care to have a solid alibi in the event you need one.”

“Downstairs in ten,” I choked out, “I’ve got it.”

“Good.” He turned to leave. Before he crossed the threshold, he turned back to say, “And, baby?”

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