Chapter 39 #2
Lupe and Amalia are there, along with Aleksandr and one of his men. The soldier at his side spots us, gun coming up fast.
Aleksandr turns, surprise flickering across his face when he realizes his little camera trick didn’t work. He spins to Lupe, shouting, “See! I told you they’d never let us be together! They both hate me!”
It takes a second for the words to sink in. When my eyes meet Lupe’s, I’m already shaking my head. No. Not her. Not my wild little sister who used to sing at the top of her lungs in the bathtub.
But all I see in her eyes is love and it’s aimed at a viper who’s swallowed too many souls like hers.
“Julia?” Amalia’s voice trembles from the corner.
I turn to her, forcing a small smile. How am I supposed to explain any of this? How do I tell them I’m not the enemy, that the real monster is the man in front of them? How do I do that with a gun pointed at someone right in front of them?
“Let them go, Aleksandr.” Maksim’s voice is ice, all soldier.
“Let them go?” Aleksandr almost laughs. “I’m not keeping them here by force. They came with me willingly.”
I look at my sisters, but I see no fear, no panic. They’re really here by choice. The only thing in their eyes is pain and curiosity directed at me.
How did I miss this? When did they even meet Aleksandr?
“Aleksandr is Lupe’s boyfriend. They're in love,” Amalia whispers, as if she can feel the storm of questions swirling inside me.
She was always the rational one. More mature. I hope she can somehow sense that I don’t want to hurt them, I just need to get them out of this house.
Jeremy’s voice crackles in my earpiece: they haven’t taken out all the guards. Any second now, more could burst in.
Amalia’s words hit me so hard I have to physically steady myself, grounding my feet on the floor so my knees don’t give out.
In love? In love with a monster who’s ruined thousands of girls like her?
“Please, you need to come with me. ? Ahora!” My voice is firm because I know bullets could start flying through this room at any moment.
The sounds of fighting echo from the side of the building.
I just hope our guys can hold them off long enough to keep this from turning into a bloodbath in front of my sisters.
I’m not letting them leave with Aleksandr, and I pray my eyes are saying what my words can’t.
For a few seconds, the twins just look at each other. Amalia’s eyes fill with tears as she takes a step toward me.
My grip tightens on the gun. If Aleksandr’s soldier so much as glances her way, I’ll put a bullet through his skull.
“Amalia.” Lupe’s whisper is thick with emotion, but the strongest note is betrayal and it breaks my heart.
“It’s Julia, Lupe! Julia, who got us out of that house when they came for Dad. Julia, who washed us, who made bubble baths, who sang every Patito Feo song with you in front of the TV.”
“Where have you been all this time?” Lupe’s gaze swings to me, and I swear I see nothing but anger and disappointment.
Her hazel-green eyes are glassy with tears, and for a second, it’s like looking at our father.
Even their hair is the same as his, straight and dark brown, though Amalia's is long and Lupe's is cropped to her shoulders.
I open my mouth, but how can I explain everything right now?
“She’ll explain everything once we’re out of here,” Maksim says, stepping closer to Amalia.
I see the doubt in her eyes, and all I want is to tell them what I feel.
“I’ve loved you from the moment you opened your eyes in this world, and I’ll love you until my last breath. But please, I’m begging you, come with me. Por favor.”
Amalia grabs Maksim’s hand. He looks at me and knows exactly what I want: get her out .
The tension in the room is a ticking bomb, and I won’t risk her life.
For a split second, I see something flicker in his eyes, a warning, a plea not to make him leave me behind, but I need them safe, no matter what.
“Juls…I’m not leaving you here with them.”
“Por favor, amor.”
It’s the first time I’ve called him that, and I know he hears the desperation in my voice. I could never forgive myself if something happened to Amalia when I could have gotten her out.
It’s selfish, I know. If the situation were reversed, I’d see it as a betrayal too, being asked to leave him behind, in danger. But my sisters are all I have left. If I have to die so they can breathe free, I’ll take that deal even if he never understands.
He must sense what I’m thinking because he finally leads Amalia toward the exit. Before they disappear, his voice brushes my ear.
“Don’t do anything reckless.”
I almost laugh. He knows me too well, but if it comes down to it, I won’t back down from this fight.
Amalia glances at me, so many questions in her eyes, but all I see is our father’s gaze.
“He’d be proud of the women you’ve become,” I whisper, and her lip trembles. “Go with Maksim, Amalia. He’ll keep you safe.”
I feel it the moment they leave the room, like a piece of my heart goes with them. What’s left of me faces Aleksandr, who’s wearing nothing but a smug smile on his face.
“How did you find us?” he sneers, stalking around Lupe with the cold precision of a serpent about to crush its prey.
I want to scream at her, to make her see that I’m not the enemy. I’m not the one she should fear. But when her eyes meet mine, it feels like a fist tightens around my heart, squeezing the air from my lungs.
?Por qué él, Lupe?
“My uncle, the man you shot in that kitchen, left us a message. The car’s license plate.”
I lock eyes with Lupe as I say every word. I want her to see the truth in my words. I want her to feel the pain that cuts through my heart every time I remember our uncle’s empty eyes.
“What?” she whispers.
“Stop lying, Julia! Their uncle was alive when I left, and you know it, rybka.”
The Russian pet name makes my skin crawl. Every one of his victims got a nickname: bunny, kitten, darling, butterfly. It’s always the same game.
Aleksandr’s soldier glances at him, and if I hadn’t spent years training with Akim and Maksim, I would have missed the subtle nod, the signal “go.” The snake’s silent command.
Before the soldier can react, I pull the trigger. Lupe’s scream echoes through the house as the man collapses, his gun clattering to the floor. For one awful second, I look at my sister, and that brief moment is all Aleksandr needs.
He lunges. He’s not as solid as Maksim, but he’s got at least sixty pounds on me, and that’s enough to knock me off balance. He knows I can’t match him for strength, but I have speed. I fight back, twisting, scrambling, until my gun slips from my grip and skids under the dusty couch.
“Lupe, get the gun!” I shout, knowing Maksim must be close.
I manage to flip Aleksandr, locking his head between my thighs. I’ve never killed anyone like this, but there’s something poetic about a snake dying from suffocation.
He struggles, pushing at me, but he’s never been good at hand-to-hand combat, and I’m running on pure fury: every time he called me a whore, every time he made me feel dirty just for being in the same room, every scream I’ve stored away now fueling me.
His eyes bulge, blood rushing to his face, and I hope he feels every ounce of what he’s done.
Every girl he’s raped, every child he’s hurt, every drop of blood he’s spilled.
“Let him go, Julia! You’re killing him!”
I look up. Lupe’s eyes are filled with tears, her whole body shaking.
“You don’t know what type of monster he is, Lupe.
How many girls he’s raped. How many lives he’s shattered.
How many times I had to close my ears to not hear their pleas.
How many nights I had to pray for them to forgive me because I couldn’t save them all,” My voice cracks, but I try to hold it together.
She shakes her head, denial etched on her face. She can’t accept that the man she loves is just a monster in disguise. Guilt twists inside me for hurting her like this, for the pain radiating from every inch of her.
Just a little longer… He deserves worse, so much worse…
I memorize his face, desperate to remember every detail for Andrea, for all the nights I feared he’d come after me. I want to remember him like this: helpless, gasping, almost gone.
“Get off him, Julia!”
I look up, and that heart that I thought was broken breaks all over again. Because there stands Lupe. With my gun in her hands. Trained on me.
“Lupe,” I whisper, praying to any god who’ll listen that she understands what a mistake she’s making. But her face is set, determined and I know that look; I wore it myself the night I shot Vlad’s man to save Maksim. That’s why I let go, giving Aleksandr his first gasp of air.
He coughs, rolling toward her.
I step back, trying to collect myself. To Lupe, I’m a stranger now, someone who disappeared from her life too many years ago. It’s been so long that she can’t remember I would have died for her, every single day, no matter what.
“She tried to kill me,” Aleksandr croaks, and I don’t even bother to deny it. It’s not a lie. I want him dead, for Andrea, for Vera, for Zoya, for every soul he’s destroyed.
Lupe still has the gun up, her shoulders relaxing just a little as Aleksandr steps behind her. She can’t see his smile, his look of triumph. And there’s nothing I can do. I’m out of moves. My own sister is choosing him over me, and it hurts like hell.
His hand slips over hers, finger curling around the trigger.
For a moment, I see her stormy eyes soften because she thinks he’s just going to take the gun and they’ll leave together.
She’s naive, and it’s my fault. I never warned her that not every prince has a pure soul—some are rotten to the core.
She doesn’t even realize when his finger finds the trigger with hers, but I don’t look away.
Think, Lupe.
“I love you, coneja,” I say softly, and I know she hears me.
I look into the eyes I prayed every night I’d never forget and watch as she points the gun at my chest.
“Your friend came back to the house after we left...didn't he,” Lupe says to Aleksandr, her voice trembling.
But Aleksandr squeezes her finger, and the gunshot is the last thing I hear.
Everything blurs into searing gray, heat ripping through my stomach like a wildfire.
Agony blooms, raw and all-consuming, and the world tilts out from under me.
My knees buckle. My sister’s face, her eyes, are the last thing I see as darkness crashes in.
My final thought is a desperate, silent plea to whatever god might be listening.
Tell Max I never meant to leave him.