My voice grows louder. “I wasn’t. This is real. I fell in love with you.”
She gazes at me in anguish, her eyes bright with tears. “Sure. Just like David did. Now get the fuck out of my house, Kazimir.”
She says my given name like a curse.
Though my stomach is sloshing, my blood is boiling, and I can hardly breathe from the pain, I keep my voice steady and hold her gaze. “You don’t want me to leave. You love me. You’re mine.”
Her inhalation is a soft, broken sob. “You’re sick! Look what you’ve done to me!Look!”
She gestures to her face. It’s red now, instead of white. Her eyes are wild. Veins stand out in her neck. Her expression is the equivalent of a building on fire, burning to the ground.
“I can make it up to you.”
“You can go to hell! Max threatened my parents! Myparents,Kage! What if he has someone there right now? What if another Viktor is in Scottsdale knocking on my parents’ door as we speak?”
“No. Viktor worked alone, like I do. He’d have planned to come here first, then go there.”
She stares at me in disbelief. “You actually think that should make me feel better, don’t you?”
When I don’t answer, she bolts.
She runs out of the living room and into the kitchen, headed for the back door. I grab her before she can get there and crush her to me, holding her tightly against my chest as she struggles to get away.
“Let me go!”
“Stop for a minute! Listen to me!”
“Fuck off!”
“I love you! I didn’t mean—”
“You didn’t mean anything, you lying son of a bitch!”
She squirms in my arms, shoving against me, desperate for release.
I won’t give it to her.
I kiss her instead.
She refuses to open her mouth for me, twisting her head away. I fist a hand into her hair and hold her head steady, then kiss her again.
This time she lets me thrust my tongue into her mouth. She lets me taste her, hold her, as we breathe hard through our noses, our bodies pressed together tight.
Then I feel the cold muzzle of my handgun pressed against my temple.
She pulled it out of the back of my waistband and stuck it against my skull.
I feel a flash of admiration for my brave, clever girl, but it’s quickly swallowed by despair.
“Back the fuck up,” she says quietly against my mouth.
When I open my eyes, she’s looking straight into them. So I can see clearly that in her own there’s no shred of warmth, love, or mercy left.
My soul is in ashes. There’s nothing inside of me. I’m a rotted, empty shell.
I slide to my knees at her feet and bow my head. “Do it, then. Without you, I’m dead anyway.”
There’s a long, tense silence. Then she whispers raggedly, “I should.”