The Girl Who Would Be King(137)

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I wake up bolted to a cement floor, my hands bound behind me with some kind of customized metal mittens that look and feel like something from a sci-fi movie. Something’s wrong with my hands as I can’t really feel them inside the mittens, which bothers me, but I figure they must still be in there or I wouldn’t be attached to the floor. Blood is seeping rapidly from me via a hole in my stomach, and I can’t seem to concentrate on the wound to heal it. The alcohol thinning my blood isn’t helping any, but I also see several puncture wounds in my bare arm and I remember being drugged. I don’t remember about seeing Adrian’s face until I hear his voice.

He’s in the room with me and I’m shocked that I didn’t sense it. The drugs and the drink, I guess. This must be how Delia felt all the time. No wonder she didn’t ever want to play with me. His voice comes from a corner behind my left shoulder, at least fifteen feet away, maybe twenty.

“Lola,” he says again.

“Yeah,” I say, clearing my throat, trying to hide any feelings I have about his voice in the raggedness of the word.

“So, how ya been mi niña?”

“Honestly? Been better, and I’m not even talking about this sci-fi-bolted-to-the-floor-shit you’ve got going on here,” I say.

“It took me forever to find you. Gave me plenty of time to come up with a decent plan.”

“I’m sure you needed it.”

“What, like I’m stupid? Like you’re a rocket scientist?”

“No, no, we’re both stupid as rocks, but at least I’ve got super-powers. I suspect this will not end well for you and I’ll probably just continue being stupid.”

“Not end well for me? Hmmm, like it didn’t end well for Felice, is that the kind of thing we’re talking about?”

“I mean if you’re into that it can be arranged. You got a tire iron on ya?”

“You bitch,” he says, a little spittle hits me on my left shoulder.

“She took my bike,” I say.

“Your bike!?! Are you kidding me?”

“No Adrian, I’m not kidding you. After setting me up to get caught, maybe killed, and then killing me and dumping me in the desert, she stole my bike. It was the last straw. Something broke in my mind and I fucking broke her. I don’t think you’re on any kind of high moral ground here.”

“She was my sister. What else could I do?”

“Yeah, real damn heroic. You deserve some kind of shiny medal.”

“You shot me.”

“And yet, you deserved so much more.”

“I couldn’t have saved you. I tried to save you the first time. I was destroyed that they left you there, especially after what you did, throwing me over that fence. But there was nothing I could do. And the second time, you were going to kill my sister. What was I supposed to do?”

“Uh-huh. Sounds like a lot of excuses, is there a point in our future, or can you just get a move on with trying to kill me?”

“Trying? Oh, I’m gonna kill you. The difference between Melvin and me is that I know there’s something wrong with you. I’d never figured out exactly what, but watching you lately has made it pretty damn easy. So I’m not taking any chances. I spent a long time looking for you, preparing myself for this. And then I had to sit and wait, which was even more excruciating,” he spits. I look up from the floor.

“Waiting? What do you mean waiting?”

“I’ve been watching you for weeks, I had to wait until you were vulnerable.”

“So, you were on the inside all along?” I ask, genuinely shocked. Adrian smiles proudly.

“One of the boys for a while now,” he says, beaming at me.

“Sonofabitch,” I say to myself, feeling betrayed again, but not sure who I can blame.

“Yeah, I should have made a move after you killed Liz, you freaking lost your shit after that,” he says, almost to himself. I level my eyes at him sharply.

“You don’t talk about her.”

“Sore spot, huh?” he says gleefully, almost laughing. “Yeah, once you took her ear I knew you were gonna crack. Lots of talk amongst the boys after that.”

“SHUT UP! JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!” I scream, feeling like I can almost tear the flesh from his bones with the power of my screams. “You don’t talk about her, you don’t talk about her ear!” I shout. Adrian smiles again, happy that he has gotten to me this easily.

“Oh, that’s right, you don’t talk about her ear, you talk to it,” he chuckles.

“Shut up,” I say quietly, imagining ways to shut him up myself.

“At first I was pissed you killed her, because I wanted to do it, but I’ve seen that it’s much better you did it yourself.”