Page 55 of The Pawn
“I’ve got it in a safe place.”
“I want it.”
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
That makes her pause. “It was her ring. It’s a part of her. I want it.”
“Not now. Let a little time pass.”
“No, Cassian, I?—”
“Allegra,” I start, rubbing her arms. “Just give it a little time. Please.”
For a moment I’m not sure she will, but when she says what she says next, I know she’s choosing her battles. “I want to see Rami.”
“You don’t have to see him. Not ever.”
“I think I need to, Cassian.”
I consider her words. Did he lie when he said he raped her mother? Or did he tell the truth, and she knows? Either way, looking at her right now, I think she does need to see him. As much as I want to protect her from him, I think she needs this.
“I’ll take you down.”
We walk out of the bedroom. Neither of us looks at the bloody mess of Rami’s fingers on the floor and I ask Enzo to clean up, to flush them down the toilet for all I care.
Itake Allegra to see him. Holding hands, fingers intertwined, we walk down the stairs together into that crypt and she doesn’t flinch at the sight of the first dead man. She steps over him, her eyes on Rami.
Rami who is still bleeding out. Who is almost gone.
I keep hold of her hand. Is it subconscious that I’m rubbing her ring finger? The rings I bought for us are upstairs, in my desk. This was all supposed to go so differently.
Allegra glances at the butcher’s block, the knife. If she feels anything at all at seeing them, I don’t see it on her face. Something has shifted for her. It’s as if that brokenness, that damage, she’s no longer fighting it. The opposite. She may be a little unhinged even. Just this side of wild.
When we get to the cell, I let go of her hand and follow her in. She’s barefoot. We both are. When she steps in the blood oozing out of Rami, I reach to stop her thinking she hasn’t seen it, but I realize she knows full well. She sees the blood and presses her bare feet in the puddle. It shows her strength. Her overcoming one of the many monsters in her life.
She nudges him with her foot, pressing into his stomach. He whimpers. Good. He’s not dead yet.
She crouches down, blood staining the hem of her white dress. Did she choose it with this in mind? She grips him by his hair, and I don’t want her to touch him. I don’t want her anywhere near him. I want to carry her out of here. Away from all this blood. This violence. This death.
But this is us. This is the making of us. Better than the breaking.
Rami looks up at her, pain clear in his face.
Allegra looks straight back and, in her eyes, I see her hate.
“Did you wait for me to come to watch you die, bastard?” she asks him. He moves his mouth, trying to say something, but she doesn’t wait to hear it. She stands, rolls him onto his back and presses her foot into his stomach.
“Please,” he croaks.
She doesn’t react. Doesn’t even blink. Instead, she watches as the last of his life slips painfully from him.
When he’s gone, she turns to me. I watch her, studying her closely. My violent little Allegra. All that damage, doesn’t she know how fierce it makes her? How fucking beautiful?
“I need some air,” she says.
I nod. I am her servant. I will do anything for her. I walk her outside, out into the cemetery, past it through the woods toward the sound of the ocean crashing against the cliffs.
Once we get there, we stand watching the ocean for long, silent minutes before she finally turns to me. “The marriage… It wasn’t consummated. It’s not real.”
