Six
Rubin
She wasn’t going to ask.
Her usually pouty lips were shaped in a soft O of surprise, and her eyes were glassy with tears that she was too shocked or too stubborn to let fall.
When I saw her slip, I’d moved faster than I ever had in my life to catch her. We weren’t done yet, but seeing the fear in her eyes was a decent start, even if I wasn’t responsible for it.
The question—the demand—had come out without conscious thought but a deep sense of satisfaction had washed over me at the words.
Yes, the thought of her begging me to save her settled over me like a soothing balm. The raspy honey of her voice, the little flare of pride she wouldn’t be able to hold back, the exact moment that she gave in…
I’d earned that, and I would savor it. Almost as much as I would savor telling her no, watching as she realized that I’d survived her and that I’d made her pay.
But what I would savor most of all was the relief.
I hadn’t gotten where I was and stayed there by making allowances, by yielding anything.
And once I excised Simone, I’d be who I was again, free from the weakness that polluted me when she was near.
Instead I got a halfhearted “please.”
Like that was enough. Like anything ever would be.
And I knew why. Simone was nice. And not fake nice, either.
Polite to a fault, considerate. Grateful.
When she first came to work for me, I paid her a bonus, and could picture her now, clutching the bills to her chest like I was going to change my mind and take them away.
And three Christmases ago, Besnik’s wife had knitted her a scarf.
She’d been almost moved to tears by the gesture.
Just like Besnik always appreciated that Simone remembered how he took his coffee just like she did everyone else.
How none of the men, even me—especially me—had ever thanked her for that.
Or the time she’d apologized to a door she’d run into and flushed deep red under her beautiful brown skin when she saw I’d seen her.
I tried to reconcile that woman with the one who’d looked me in the eye as she buried me.
Tried to reconcile her with the woman who stared up at me now, afraid yes, but one who hated me so much she preferred those things ripping her apart to asking for my help and showing her appreciation for it.
That was how badly she wanted to deny me what she owed me.
Never.
“Ask.”
I said it one more time.
I wouldn’t say it again, so in the seconds after, I fought to accept the idea that I might have to let her go. It’d be easy enough, a model of efficiency, actually. Letting her fall to the horrors below would kill two birds with one stone.
I’d be free of the burden of trying to keep her alive while I figured out what the fuck was happening. She’d be punished with an appropriately painful death.
Easy.
Clean.
I still held her though and bent my elbow to lower her closer to the ground.
And those things.
She reached for my forearm with her other hand, clawing at my skin frantically. I smiled when she met my eyes again and her own were filled with fear, flashing with rage and defiance, and best of all, hurt.
That was what I needed. What I wanted came next.
“Please, Mr. Marku—” She screamed when I lowered her a few inches more. “Please, Rubin. Please help me. Please save me.”
Her voice wavered with the tears that slid down her cheeks. I’d never seen Simone so broken. Had never seen her begging.
Now, her eyes beseeched me like I was God descended to earth and she was the most devout believer.
It was everything I dreamed of.
And it was nothing.
I pulled her up quickly and settled her on the other side of the catwalk. She breathed heavily, her eyes flashing as she swiped away the tears. But she didn’t look away.
“Was it really so difficult to ask for my help, Simone? Or does it hurt your traitorous fucking heart to know that I saved you after what you did to me?” I stepped closer, so much so that Simone had to lift her gaze to meet mine.
“I should have let you fall, eh? Watched the show as you scurried away trying to fight for your life?”
I moved closer still, my chest brushing her breasts.
I was so close I could see the faint beat of her pulse in her neck and noticed the way her jaw clenched.
She was angry, but she didn’t respond. She probably thought she had given me enough of her words.
She was wrong. She owed me so much more, and I was going to get it.
She let out a strangled scream when I touched her cheek and then smiled and chuckled. I brushed my thumb across her lip and she trembled. “You’re embarrassed because you screamed?”
She broke my gaze momentarily. I could see the calculation in her mind.
Tell me the truth? Tell me what I want to hear?
I saw the moment she understood she didn’t know exactly what she could say that might placate me.
She was fully in the dark, and for a few moments, she panicked at the thought.
Good. Let her know what it’s like to be in the dark, caught unaware of what should have been obvious.
“Why would I be? Isn’t it normal to scream when you’re scared?”
“You’re scared of me?”
My thumb brushed her bottom lip, but she didn’t try to move away.
“You just dangled me over a pit of…whatever those are. Should I not be afraid?” Her voice was back, steady, calm.
“Is that what I did? Or did I save you from the horrific death you so richly deserve?”
“I deserve to die because I did my civic duty?”
I moved closer. Close enough to feel her breath stutter against my lips. Close enough that I saw the defiance she tried so mightily to hide.
“No, miu, you deserve to die because you betrayed me.”
There was really nowhere to go, but Simone didn’t back up an inch. Just kept her eyes on mine, assessing, studying, looking for a weakness she would no longer find.
Her shoulders sank, and I allowed myself another second to enjoy her defeat before moving away.
I needed to know what was going on. I pulled the flagpole out of the dead thing’s eye socket, and wasn’t surprised that Simone was only a step behind me when I moved.
The air got thick and foul as I moved down the hallway, and the screams got louder.
But the power was still on, so that was something. What, exactly, it was, I wasn’t sure, but I needed to find my men. After that, I’d figure it out and make sure I had time to finish with Simone.
The walk from the warden’s office had been clean, but this wing wasn’t.
Everywhere I stepped, there were pieces of bodies.
It looked like chum for sharks, but the scraps of fabric mixed in with the pieces told me it definitely wasn’t that.
Simone flinched when she looked down and saw a bodiless hand.
She ran her wrist across her forehead, then wiped it on her jeans, her nose crinkling at the scent of piss, shit, and death.
I buried my nose in my shirt, and Simone did the same.
She also copied the strides I deliberately shortened.
Not so that she could keep up but I didn’t want anything between me and her, not until I decided it should be.
And then finally, we reached the end of the corridor. On the opposite side was the outdoor area, and then the main unit that my men occupied. I rounded the corner and stopped when I heard a soft whisper.
“Krye.”