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Valkyrie gasps in horror and I take out the gun, pull the trigger and fire. The bullet hits him straight in the face, blood and brains splashing everywhere, covering the walls and Valkyrie lets out a choked cry.
Silence spreads over the room. In the distance a baby weakly cries upstairs and a muscle ticks in my jaw.
“Who they fuck are you calling weak?” I rasp, tempted to fire another shot just to get an even number. Next to me, Valkyrie’s having a silent meltdown, whimpering and cowering in her seat and I know what she’s thinking.
I just killed a made man in front of everyone. As a soldier I’d need to have permission but I don’t give a shit. He deserved it. And I’m prepared to take my punishment.
Everyone silently turn their heads to boss to get his reaction and he’s sitting at the end of the table with his wife in his lap and a frown on his face.Fuck ,this doesn’t look good...but then he shrugs, slamming his fist on the table until it trembles and he raises his glass.
“To death,” he thunders, and we all raise our glasses.
“To death...”
We sip on our drinks and Valkyrie watches me over the rim of her glass, her eyes shiny, her cheeks trembling but she sneaks her hand in mine and gives me a squeeze.
“I’m yours,” she whispers, reaching to brush off some blood splatter on my face with a napkin. “Always only yours.”
My heart shatters at her care. I’m the only lover she’ll ever know. She had nobody before me and there will be nobody after. I came, I kissed, I conquered.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Valkyrie
“What do you mean he bailed?” I ask, staring at my father. I’m in his office and for a moment everything sways and it’s like the floor’s about to open and swallow me alive. “It can’t be t...true.”
A muscle ticks in dad’s jaw and he leans back in his seat. Picking up his dagger, he starts tracing the blade with his fingertips and he looks just as infuriated as I feel. “I’m not happy about this either, Valkyrie but the soldier had his chance.” Dad’s expression darkens. “And he didn’t take it.”
He didn’t takeme.
That’s what he means. Iversen didn’t takeme.
My father’s just told me that Iversen talked to him after dinner last night. He asked for my hand. Dad didn’t say yes or no. He said he’d had to think about it and that he’d give Iversen his answer in the morning.
And its noon now. Its noon!
Clenching my fists, I whisper, “Something must’ve happened. Maybe he’s out buying a ring as we speak or maybe he’s thinking up p...poetry he’d like to recite when he proposes...” I trail off under my father’s gaze and I know what he thinks. He thinks I’m being pathetic.
“Valley,” he murmurs, using a nickname I haven’t heard in years. “Maybe its best you take that dress off. You’ve worn it for two days straight now.”
Clutching the dress Iversen gave me, I shake my head. “I’m never taking it off.” Iversen liked me in it and the first time I wore it, I could for the first time somewhat understand what he sees in me.
Hugging myself, I shiver when dad says in a suddenly gentle tone.
“When a male wants a female he does everything to have her. He’ll kill for her, die for her...hell not even death should keep him from her.” Dad brushes a hand over his face. “Accept this, Valkyrie for your sake. And there are better sharks in the sea.”
“This has to be a lie,” I whimper. “Iversen wouldn’t do this. Helovesme.”
“Loves you?” Fury floods dad’s face. Grabbing his dagger he stabs it into the desk. “Loves you?” he bellows. “If he loved you he wouldn’t have left you!”
“In that case mom never loved you!” I shout, regretting it the instant dad turns white and he sits back in his chair, mutely staring straight ahead and I flood with guilt. “I’m so s...sorry...,” I sob, bursting into tears and I run out of the office, out of the compound and into the park. Tears blur my sight but I know where I’m going, my hands searching for the hidden opening I’ve made in the fence and I crawl through.
Running down the deserted road, my legs carry me on their own. They know where I’m going.
The cemetery.
Through my blurry gaze, I search for my mother’s name and fall to my knees in front of her tombstone. “Mádir...,” I sob, “he’s gone. He’s really gone.” Pouring my heart out, I bury my face in my hands as I cry out my grief. I sit there on the ground until the air turns chilly and a crow mockingly caws in the trees. Drying my cheeks, I take a couple of deep breaths and lick my lips. Telling myself that I’m strong and that mob princesses don’t cry over males, I get up on unsteady knees and I feel so incredibly fragile I’m no match to even the wind.
Slowly and silently crisscrossing through the tombstones, I struggle to not burst into tears again but then anger takes over and I tear at my dress.
