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“And you believed her?” I snarl, bursting with ripples of hot frustration. How can I keep Galina safe when she keeps details like this from me?
Galina draws herself up like I’ve offended her. “I didn’t think?—”
“Exactly! You didn’t think.” I turn back to Madison, looming over her with new, deep-rooted rage. “Keep talking!”
She recoils as quickly as if I’d slapped her. “I was brought to a place called the Winter Palace. There were other girls there like me, all of us forced to undergo training.”
The Winter Palace. That familiar name hits me like a truck. If she’s trying to make me feel bad for her, it’s a waste of effort. I won’t allow any room in my heart to forgive someone who attacked me. And someone who tricked not just me ... but ... I glance at Galina.
I’m furious on her behalf.
Madison keeps talking. “After a few days, I met him.” She peers up at me, then back at her feet. “Yevgeniy. He promised me my freedom if I did something for him. I don’t know why he bothered with a reward though, since he also threatened to murder my parents if I didn’t do it. I’d have done anything he wanted at that point.”
Typical Yevgeniy.
“Let me guess. He wanted you to slip close to me with this story about escaping his clutches?” I ask coldly. “Then kill me with that syringe?”
“Yes,” she admits.
I walk right, then left, my mind turning. “Show me the tattoo.”
Madison licks her lips anxiously, but she has no fight left in her. She turns away from me and lifts her flannel pajama shirt—the one Ulyana let her borrow, which rankles me after her betrayal—and exposes her naked skin.
Crouching, I examine the oblong shape carved into her left shoulder.
“It looked like a baton to me,” Galina whispers.
“It’s not.” Shaking my head, I rise to my full height. “It’s a dagger hilt. The blade would have been added once she made her first kill.”
It was meant to be me.
Galina goes as pale as Madison. “I had no idea,” she says regretfully. “I’m sorry.”
“If you hadn’t stopped me from searching her myself, I would have seen this. I would have also found the syringe.”
Her posture is infected by enough shame that she sinks closer to the floor. I loathe seeing her beaten down like this. She’s too naive! She should have listened to me! Perhaps I’m being harsh, but that’s the way the world—my world—is.
Galina needs to understand what’s at risk.
But God, look at her ... cowering in front of me like this.
I know that I’m not in the right. But I can’t say that right now.
I turn those negative feelings toward the source of this mess. Towering over Madison, where she shakes in a useless pile of limbs, I snarl, “I should kill you for this.”
“Arsen!” Galina cries. “No!”
“Not because you tried to kill me,” I seethe, my arm snaking down, gripping her by the collar of her shirt. The red and black plaid starts to rip when I haul her to her feet. “But because you betrayed her trust.”
Galina freezes, realizing I’m talking about her.
“She believed in you,” I go on, shaking the girl until her teeth rattle in her skull. “How dare you steal that away? How fucking dare you make her fight for you when you’re no better than the scum on the bottom of my shoe?”
Madison grabs at my wrists, trying to get purchase. Her nails scrape, raising pink lines, but I ignore the hot pain. I keep shaking her.
“Arsen, stop it!” Galina cries, launching at me, tugging at my forearm. “This is insane! How can you be so consumed by revenge that you’d kill a child?”
Her accusation pierces me as deep as the syringe would have if Madison had attacked quicker. Wrinkling my nose, I glare down at Galina while Madison hangs limply in my grip.
