Page 117 of Gunslinger Girl
Siena sniffed. “Before you really do lose your mind, maybe I should point out that my job ends the moment I deliver Mr. Pryce here back to his parents. After that, no reason you two lovebirds can’t be together, so long as you don’t mind being together back east.”
“No reason?” Pity surged out of the cell, fury emanating from her so thickly that even Siena Bond moved aside. “Then maybe you should ask Mr. Pryce what happened to his last girlfriend.”
They locked the guard in an empty cell and returned to the basement tunnels. Siena brought up the rear, keeping Max in her sights as he trailed Pity. Every time he got close to her, she quickened her step, refusing to look at him.
He touched her arm. “Pity, c’mon. Talk to me.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” She stepped out of his reach. “We need to hurry.”
Max grimaced, matching his pace to hers. “I know you don’t understand, but I only want you to be safe.”
Pity stopped and shoved him away. “Safe? I was ready to do anything—anything—in order to keep you safe. And it doesn’t mean a damn thing because I’m gonna lose you anyway. That’s what I understand.”
Max’s eyes searched hers, too surprised to fight back.
“Not the time,” Siena warned.
“Time for what?”
They turned to the new voice. A few yards away, at an intersection of tunnels, stood Luster.
“Shit,” said Siena.
Pity stepped away from Max. “What are you doing down here?”
“I’ve been looking for you two!” She stalked over to them. “You never came back after Adora fetched you, and then Max disappeared, too, but neither of you were in your rooms last night!” She paused, looking nervously at the bounty hunter. “I got a bad feeling. I was checking Max’s again.”
Pity locked eyes with Siena.
“Rats on the ship,” said the bounty hunter, easing a hand into her satchel.
Pity’s pulse quickened. There was no way to know whom Sheridan had gotten to. No, not Luster. She wouldn’t believe it. Luster loved Casimir as much as anyone. She would never endanger it.
You would have said the same thing about Santino a few hours ago, she reminded herself.
The gun was out of her holster in a heartbeat. Luster shrieked as Pity threw her against the wall and pressed the barrel to her shoulder. “Whose side are you on?”
“What? Pity, why are you—”
“Whose… side… are you on?” The words boiled out. She moved the gun so that it was pointed at Luster’s temple.
“Stop!” Max lunged at them, but Siena held him back. “What are you—?”
“Quiet, Max.” This time Pity’s voice was deathly calm. Luster’s terrified face floated in her vision, tears streaking down her glittering cheeks. “Tell me whose side you’re on.”
Luster trembled. Her mouth opened to speak, but nothing came out. The silence dragged on until finally, a specter of a word escaped from between her lips: “Yours.”
Pity’s arm went limp. The gun fell to her side and she stepped back, anger smothered. A bone-deep desire to sit down right where she was blossomed, to close her eyes and pretend the last twenty-four hours had been a nightmare.
Luster raised a hand to her mouth but remained rooted in place, her eyes wide and wet.
“That doesn’t mean much,” said Siena.
“I know.” In that moment Pity didn’t think she could have raised her gun again if she tried. Luster was her friend. As foolish as it was after everything she had learned, it was a truth Pity refused to let go of. “But it means enough.”
She holstered her weapon and grabbed Luster by the shoulders. “Listen to me and don’t ask any questions. Go find Garland and Duchess, and then the three of you hole up in your room. Go fast, and don’t stop to talk to anyone. Do you hear me? Anyone!”
Luster’s face crumpled with fear. “Why, what’s—”
