The Girl Who Would Be King(139)

“I’m fine,” he says, pausing, confused. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. You need to get out of the house.”

“What?”

“I’m serious – get out now. Go to a friend’s house or a hotel – and call me at this number later to let me know you’re somewhere safe,” I say rushing my words as the sirens seem almost on top of me now.

“Bonnie, wait, does this have anything to do with the news-” he begins, but I cut him off.

“I’m sorry, I have to go – get out of the house, now!” I hang up the phone and scoop up Joan. Sirens are filling the street and there’s movement in the building. I open the bedroom window leading to the fire escape and put Clark’s mobile in my pocket, as I do, I realize the stone is gone. “They took the stone,” I breathe, the realization hitting me like a thousand new bullets. The sound of footsteps charging up the stairwell sends me out the window onto the fire escape and I take to the air a split second before the police break down the front door.



•

My neck is all messed up when I wake up. I feel like ass. Adrian is crouched in front of me, head cocked.

“Amazing,” he says.

“Tell me about it,” I say, leveraging myself awkwardly back into a sitting position and cracking my neck a few times. He backs off when I sit up and I realize for the first time that he’s afraid of me. He’s doing a good job of covering it up, but now that I’ve sensed it, it’s so strong I can almost swim in it.

“So, we could do this all day then,” he says, smiling. His smile is just as beautiful as ever and I’m epically pissed at myself to realize that there’s a tiny little butterfly beat in my heart at seeing his face. “Is that – what are you thinking?” he asks suspiciously. He was always good at reading my face.

“I’m thinking that I’d like to do that to you and see how long it takes you to wake back up,” I say. He smiles again and I close my eyes. “How long was I out?” I ask.

“A few hours.”

“Not too bad then,” I say, happy that he’s proving to be even stupider than I am. Just as I think it though he plunges another needle into my arm.

“Hell. Would it kill you to warn a girl?”

“In this case, I suspect it would.”

“Good point,” I say, grimacing. I don’t know what he’s giving me, but it’s powerful. Almost immediately my vision blurs slightly and my thoughts feel thicker. With the alcohol almost gone from my system though, it’s more manageable. I play it up a bit, try to keep him from thinking he needs to give me more.

“You know I loved you, right?” I say, slurring my words a little bit more than necessary. He blinks and sits down, leaning the tire iron up against the side of his chair. The sound the tire iron makes dragging against the concrete is horrible. I like it.

“Yeah, I know you loved me.”

“I mean, I still love you,” I say, not sure whether I mean it or not.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“You’re mad I killed Felice…” I let my sentence drag out. “But don’t you think she deserved it, maybe just a little bit?” He pulls back horrified and not trying to hide it.

“No. No, I don’t think she deserved it. What she did was wrong, but she didn’t deserve to be tortured and killed,” he says. I look at him in mock horror, hoping it comes off as somewhat genuine.

“I didn’t torture her.”

“What do you mean, I saw her body, she looked terrible. I dream about it every night.”

“Listen, I’m not saying it was pretty, I’m not saying she enjoyed it, I’m just saying it was fast. I didn’t torture her or anything.” This information changes nothing in him. It’s as if he’s been listening to a decades old family story his whole life and he was just offered hard evidence it’s all bullshit but he’s decided to believe the myth anyway. He shakes off my words.

“I can’t believe anything you say.”

“Sure, I understand, I’m just saying, if it eases your mind at all, I didn’t torture her. She was scared, yes, but she died fast.” He turns away from me and I look at how I’m bolted to the floor, trying to determine if there’s anything that can be done about breaking the ring that holds the mittens down. Without the drugs, I think I can snap the thick metal cable, but not slightly depowered and trussed up like this. I look up innocently just as he turns around, tossing my hair away from my face and giving him my best slightly drugged smile.

“You can say whatever you want to me, it’s not going to change things.”