AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Did Andrea teach you?”
She doesn’t answer me.
“Did Vincent? Ri? Beckett?”
No answer. She gives me no clues as to who she really is. Has she known how to hold a gun this hold time? How to use one? Does she know self-defense? Was she just pretending to be a weak princess instead of the fierce woman in front of me? Was she playing me? If so, for what purpose?
“Vincent said we can kill you now.”
My eyes focus again, looking at her face. I’m waiting for the moment she uses that gun to kill me.
She’s strong enough to do it.
Maybe she’s even killed before.
“You never needed his permission to kill me.”
“That’s true. The real question is, how long should you suffer before I kill you? You don’t seem to be in nearly enough pain. How long did you let Kit suffer before you killed him?” She sniffles, sucking back a sob.
Dammit, why did I kill him? Why can’t I remember?
I open my mouth to say I’m sorry but stop. I don’t know if I’m sorry. I don’t know if I killed Kit for a good reason. My apology is empty without the truth.
I want to comfort her, though. I want to wrap my arms around her and give her the space to cry until she has nothing left inside. I want to get down on my knees and tell her how sorry I am. But most of all, I want to give her vengeance for losing the man she loved.
I know how that feels. I lost a woman I loved. And I’m losing Rialta now after only just realizing my love for her. I know how important it is to get revenge for losing the most important person to you. Even if she needs to kill me to get that retribution. Growing up a Retribution King taught me that.
“You should get revenge,” I say.
She blinks, light from the stairs reflecting off her face in the shadowy darkness of the basement.
“Revenge means you’ll be dead,” she responds.
“I’m not afraid of death; neither are you. I deserve to die, so kill me. It won’t take away all of your pain, but it will help. You’ll be able to keep living, keep breathing, if you get retribution for Kit’s death.”
I take a deep, calming breath trying to blow it out to her to give her calmness and peace with whatever she decides. If I’m to die tonight, I’d rather die by her hand. I’d rather die with just the two of us here. I’d rather die giving her peace than die fighting or getting my own revenge. If my last act on this earth can be giving the woman I love some small sort of tranquility, then I’ll die with a purpose.
She doesn’t raise her gun. She just stares at me, perplexed, trying to understand what I’m saying.
I don’t rush her. I soak every bit of her in. She’s still wearing the same dress she wore on our date. I don’t know how long it’s been—hours, days, weeks—but I wish I could go back to that date. Not to prevent myself from drinking the wine she laced but to tell her the truth faster. It might not have changed the outcome, but at least it would have given her all the facts. She would have known how I felt about her, and she would have known why I’ve done what I’ve done. She would have understood why. I probably would have even told her why I killed Kit.
It wouldn’t have mattered. I would have still ended up here, being tortured for what I did and eventually killed. And it wouldn’t change how she feels about me. She hates me. She was playing me.
Does that make me hate her?
No.
The truth is I never hated her.
Never.
I grin.
She narrows her eyes in a glare and raises her gun.
I grin wider. When I go, I’ll go looking at the most beautiful woman in the world.
She fires.
