Page 5 of The Pawn
He grins and I don’t know what comes over me, rage, desperation, a terror I haven’t felt in five years. Those days and nights I spent in that hell room. I don’t know, but I lunge at him, screaming bloody murder as I dig my fingers into the skin of his face, wanting to gouge out his eyes, scratching, clawing, a howling banshee.
Guards come barreling in, boots fit for war heavy on once-beautiful floors. I don’t know if Malek called them or if it was my screams that brought them running because all I could hear was the blood pumping through my veins and the chaos inside my own mind.
I’m dragged off, hands grabbing at me, fingers digging in painfully, but as I’m pulled away, I see that I’ve succeeded, a little at least. Malek’s face is bloody, his skin embedded beneath my nails, his blood red on my fingers.
“I’m going to kill you! I’m going to fucking murder you!” I shout.
Malek looks at his reflection in the broken, soot covered mirror against the wall before turning to me, glaring. I’m breathing hard, but when he steps toward me, I begin to fight again. But Rami has me and he’s much stronger than me, not to mention he’s a soldier. He knows how to do battle. He traps my arms and holds me tight to his iron chest.
Malek’s mouth is a hard line, his face red not only with blood, but with fury. He comes right up to me, raises his arm and strikes me so hard, my vision goes black. If Rami weren’t holding onto me, I’d be on the floor.
The room spins and it takes all I have to return my gaze back to his, fear in my heart, blood in my mouth from where I bit my lip. I spit that blood at him.
“You’re a spoiled, ungrateful little bitch just like your mother, and you need to be taught a lesson. Maybe a little time in your old room will do the trick, but if not, I have other methods.”
My ears ring, my brain registering his meaning, terror rising inside me. It’s like I’ve gone back in time five years. Five years and I’m that girl with her mother, both ofus terrified. That girl alone in a dark room in an old cellar hearing things no child should hear. No adult should hear.
“Get her out of my sight!” Malek commands and Rami carries me out kicking and screaming, dragging me down the once-grand staircase to the other stairs. The ones that lead down to the cellar. I grab hold of the railing as we go, gripping it as I’m forced down, rage having morphed into terror, the terror of a fifteen-year-old girl as I smell the damp earth air. It’s so dark down here. I had forgotten how fucking dark. I crane my neck to watch as Rami pulls the little chain on the lightbulb just outside that metal door.
“No! No. No. No. No!” I kick wildly, manage to slam my fist into the side of his head, but he is unstoppable. He drags the heavy, creaking door open and when he hurls me inside, I scramble fast to my feet and run. I want out. I want out of this house of horrors. This house of death.
But I don’t get away. Of course I don’t. He catches me easily, laughs as he shoves me hard, sending me to the ground, my head bouncing off it. The room spins, and by the time I’m able to raise my head and look to the door, to the only light just beyond it, I see his face, his wide grin and watch the slamming of the metal door, the sound echoing, haunting, carrying me back in time. Back to those nights. Back to my own personal hell.
2
CASSIAN
I’m going to murder someone.
I lean on the horn and swerve onto the shoulder, screaming at the cars to get the fuck out of my way. I refresh the screen trying to get Enzo’s location, but it just searches and searches and fucking searches.
Someone honks at me, and I curse as I swerve, narrowly avoiding crashing into the other car. I flip him off as I press the gas pedal to get off at the next exit. Behind me a lime green Porsche SUV comes into view, the SUV with the soldiers stuck farther back. It’s Jet and when the lights of another vehicle shine on it, I see his face through the windshield.
I’m just getting ready to push the button to call Enzo yet again when my phone lights up just before it rings, an unfamiliar number on the screen, a name I don’t recognize. My heart drops to my stomach. I slide to answer.
“Cassian,” Enzo’s voice comes, sounding strained and out of breath.
“Enzo?”
“Yeah. Fuck. It’s me.”
“Where are you? I’ve been trying to get hold of you?—”
“I’m sorry, I know. Shit.”
“Allegra. Is she with you?” I ask even though I know the answer. I know.
“My phone’s shot to shit. Fuck. Exit 42,” he manages.
I look up. I’m at exit 40 and traffic is bumper to fucking bumper. I swerve off to take the surface road. It’s got to be faster than this.
“Allegra?” I say again.
“She’s... Her brother?—”
“Her brother?” I ask, the car pushing its maximum, Jet behind me, the SUV following him. “I don’t care about?—”
“He’s dead, Cassian. He’s dead.”
