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“I’m not leaving without Alix.”
Rider obliges me, turning toward my princess. “Alix.” When she doesn’t respond, he repeats her name with a hell of a lot more force. “Alix!” Her head wobbles as she turns toward him. It takes a lifetime for her to focus on his face. “Do you want to leave with Trap?”
She doesn’t speak. But she does climb to her feet.
Rider gentles his voice, like he’s talking to someone high on a ledge. “You don’t have to go with him, Alix. We’ll make sure you get somewhere safe.”
In slow motion, she shakes her head. And then, like she’s learning a new language, she says, “No. I’ll go with Trap.”
Rider frowns, but he says to the female guard, “Take her back to the greenroom. Get some salve on that wound. And get her dressed and back in the lobby.”
Alix follows the guard like a well-trained dog.
“Trap—” Rider starts to say.
“Fuck you.”
He sighs and starts to make some excuse. But I’m tired of excuses. I’m tired of assholes, all the way down. I shoulder past the guards and make my way to my own fucking greenroom.
I’ve got Charles and the Mercedes waiting by the curb for almost half an hour before Alix comes out. She’s wearing her dress. Carrying her shoes by their ankle straps. She’s ditched her mask and washed her face and she looks like maybe she just spent a wild night drinking and dancing.
I can just catch the edge of the mark left by Herzog’s cane, peeking out above her bodice. It’s red and it looks painful, but whatever ointment the guard applied seems to have made a difference.
Alix climbs into the back seat without using the hand I offer to help. I punch the button that raises the smoked glass screen between us and Charles. But I wait until we’re out of Brooklyn before I start.
“What the fuck were you thinking?”
She doesn’t answer, which only makes me angrier.
“Why did you follow me?” I demand.
Nothing.
“What the hell did you think would happen?”
Silence.
“How thefuckdid you end up in that room with those cocksucking cumstains?”
She flinches atcocksucking. But she doesn’t say a word.
“Goddammit, Alix! You killed Klaus Herzog with a steak knife, but it was too hard to ask a fucking guard to step in tonight?”
Her eyes glisten. Her lips move. I have to lean close to hear what she says. “I thought I could trust you.”
I reel back. “Youcantrust me!”
She shakes her head, just a fraction of an inch. “You weren’t there. You didn’t keep me safe.”
“I didn’t know you followed me! Jesus fuck, woman, what were you thinking?”
She blinks. “I wasn’t.”
“Wasn’t what?”
“Wasn’t thinking.” And then, like she’s just figured something out: “I’m broken.”
“The fuck you are,” I say, loud, because I want to be right.
