Page 113 of Russian Roulette
I roll my eyes when he doesn’t answer, then put the gun to his temple again. “Your odds of survival went straight downhill when I added the second bullet,” I tell him. “I’m not great at math, so I can’t give you the exact probability of surviving. If my girl was here, she could tell you exactly how likely you are to die. Because she’s a beautiful fucking genius. But she’s not here, because you and your asshole partner have her. Isn’t that right? By the way, she told us how you tried to kill her on the boat and I’m mad as hell about that, too.”
His eyes widen at that piece of information. Now I’m getting somewhere with him.
“You’re pissing me off and haven’t suffered nearly enough.” I reach into my back pocket and flick open my switchblade. It’s only fitting that the same knife that cut Jade should also cause him pain. Poetic justice or whatever that shit is called. In one smooth motion, I stab him without warning in the upper thigh. He yells when the knife blade goes all the way up to the handle. Blood spurts in huge gushes from the wound.
“I’m changing the rules of the game.” I grasp the handle of the knife, pull the blade from his leg and wipe the blood off the blade on his pants. Blood is pouring from his leg without the knife to slow the flow.
“Look at all that blood,” I say. “You might bleed to death. Probably not from that wound, but from the next one and the one after that. Because we’re going to keep playing games until you talk. I will remove your body parts one-by-one until you squeal. Where’s the girl?”
“Fuck you,” he mutters in broken English.
I burst out laughing. “You learned English in the last five minutes? I figured you understood what I was saying. Why were you at Platinum?”
When he hesitates, I hold the knife threatening over his other thigh. “Better start talking, or you won’t be able to walk out of here. The coyotes will eat you before you make it to the highway. I’m sure they already smell your blood.”
“Maybe he really doesn’t know,” Kit says, stepping to within an arm’s length of us. “He would’ve told you by now. Leroy’s right, you need to stop this before you get hurt or worse.”
Ah…fuck.
The worried expression on Kit’s face tells me he’s beginning to suspect I don’t have any tricks up my sleeve about the bullets. Which means I’m quickly running out of time to get answers. I jab the barrel of the gun against Ivan’s cheek instead of his temple.
“If I pull the trigger and the gun goes off, you might still live, even with half your face blown off,” I tell him. “Would that be worse than death? I think it might be. You’d live like a freak for the rest of your life, unable to speak or eat. Last chance, where is she?”
He shakes his head, and I count. “One…two…three.” I pull the trigger and the motherfucking gun clicks again.
“Fuck!” I yell in frustration. “This bastard is too goddamn lucky.” I put the barrel of the gun right between his eyes. “We’re going to keep playing until I have my hands on Jade. You’re not taking me seriously. I think it’s time to add another bullet for fun’s sake.” I open the cylinder and add a third bullet. “Now it’s my turn.”
I step back a few feet from Ivan so he can see me clearly and spin the cylinder down my arm again. He needs to understand I’m willing to go to any lengths to find Jade.
This game is quickly getting old, and I need to finish it.
58
KIT
I’m too terrified to breathe. The moment Vulcan mentioned he plays Russian Roulette alone at the RV tipped me off we are in deep shit. Until then, I was confident he knew by the sound of the cylinder rolling or the weight of the gun exactly where the bullet was located.
Now I’m not sure.
He’s scaring me because I recognize the emotionless, glazed expression in his eyes. I’ve only seen it a few times. Enough to realize that he’s on the verge of spiraling out of control, which will put him and everyone around him in danger.
Vulcan is ill and needs help. Just because he survived several tragedies when others weren’t so lucky, doesn’t mean he can’t die. We’ve tried countless times to talk to him and he always laughs it off. From the time he was three years old and toddled out the front door of a mobile home fire that killed his parents, he has believed he can’t die. Every terrible accident he survived since then only reaffirms his belief.
Now, Seven and I are both frozen in fear while watching a man we consider our brother play Russian Roulette with real bullets.
“Vulcan! Cut this out!” I shout. “He won’t tell us anything. We need to put him in the limo’s trunk and go back to Platinum. We’re wasting time here with this stupid game. Let’s go, okay? I’m sure she’s there. Put the gun away while I’ll load him up. This is crazy, and it’s gone on long enough!”
Vulcan shakes his head at me. “No, he’ll talk. Trust me, he will. He just doesn’t believe I’m serious. I need to make a believer out of him. He’ll talk and he’ll tell us where Jade is.”
Taking two steps closer to him, I hold out my hand. “Give me the gun. I’ll shoot him in the leg. Why should you have all the fun? That’ll make him talk. I’ll blow his kneecap off. Just stop this stupid game.”
Vulcan snorts and steps back away from me. “Have you ever shot a gun in your life? You won’t shoot him in the leg or anywhere else. You can’t even eat meat, for fuck’s sake! I realize what you’re trying to do, and it won’t work. Stop worrying, I’ll be fine.”
Vulcan is definitely not fine.
My heart is pounding so hard it’s threatening to burst out of my chest. How can I live if Vulcan kills himself right in front of me? How can I ever look Jade in the eye again? She will never forgive us if something happens to Vulcan. She cares deeply for him, and Seven, and even me.
All of our lives are ruined forever if he dies.
