Chapter Forty-Eight - KATYA
The first thing I notice is that the Smilde original is no longer hanging on the wall. The second thing I notice is beeping next to my ear. I turn to look for the source and see nothing but red lights on a ShrikeSafe Security panel.
Disarmed. The red lights mean it’s disarmed.
I don’t know what to make of that.
“Lily?” I ask again, but a little less confident this time.
A shadow moves off to my right in the kitchen. And it takes every ounce of self-control not to take my weapon out of my pocket.
“Hello?” I ask, moving forward. “Lily?”
The smack of a door closing in the back of the house is all the answer I get.
I have to close my eyes for a minute to gather my strength. Because I have only one option. I need to go outside and face my past.
This is it. This is where I make my stand against Lucio Gori.
I walk through the kitchen and open the door, looking out at the back yard. The off-white tents are still there, flaps waving in the cold autumn wind.
Which one is he hiding in? There are so many.
“Lily?” I call out. But I get nothing but the sound of falling leaves. I’m going to have to look in each one of them if he doesn’t make a move.
I take a deep breath and slowly walk down the stairs that lead to the brown grass. My feet crunch on it, the dew from last night frozen on the dormant blades. The flap of the closest tent is blown open, and there is no one inside. Not even the tables or chairs that were there yesterday. It’s like the caterers came and took everything but the tents.
I move on to the next tent. This flap isn’t blown open, and I really want to pull out the weapon in my pocket. But I don’t want him to know I came ready. I can’t. The surprise is all I have left.
“Miss Kalashova.”
I whirl around and face him. The man I have hated for more than half my life. Lucio Gori Senior is sitting in a chair in the largest tent like he is a king.
“Come sit on my lap, sweetheart.”
That motherfucker. How many times has me made me sit on his lap since that night he cut my throat? How many times did I get that sick feeling in my gut when his hands would find their way to my legs, or my belly, or my neck?
“Come here,” he says again. “Don’t you want your reward? Let me give it to you for being such a good little girl.”
I hesitate, looking back at the house. Who else is here?
“Don’t worry about her,” Gori says. “Play first, baby. Then we’ll sort out the business end of this, OK?”
His sweet voice is laced with poison. But who is he talking about? Who else is here?
I fight the urge to look again, and instead concentrate on walking towards the tent.
He smiles bigger. Even laughs a little. “You like it, don’t you?”
I smile a little too. Even make myself blush the way I’ve practiced over the years. Being underestimated is a survival skill in my line of work. “I do like it,” I say, slowly walking towards him.
“Don’t move,” a woman calls just as the back door of the house slams closed. I’m already inside the tent, so I have to lean out and peek, just to see who that is.
“Mrs. Conrad?” I ask in my most innocent voice.
“Don’t touch her,” Mrs. Conrad calls. “It’s a trap, Lucio.”
“Nonsense. Get over here, girl.”
I don’t wait for another invitation. I practically scurry towards him. His arms are outstretched as I come closer. Mrs. Conrad appears in the open flap just as he wraps them around my body and pulls me on to his lap.
“Stop!” she calls. “Don’t let her—”
But I have the scalpel out. I have it against his throat. I have it pressing against his jugular. And by the time the last of her warning is out of her mouth, I have opened him up. The sick smell of blood floods my nose. The hot sticky mess covers my hand and washes away every minute of torture I’ve endured to get to this moment.
Mrs. Conrad is clawing me off him, screaming and yelling. Her fists pound my face and her fingernails claw at my eyes.
But I don’t care. I just laugh, and laugh, and laugh as I fight back, kicking her and getting a punch or two as I wallow in her rage.
Nothing else matters now.
In this moment, nothing matters but what I’ve done and how I feel about it.
Because now, we are even.
And Lucio Gori will never get his hands on my sister, or anyone else, ever again.