Dante

 

I feel like an asshole for letting myself cry, but less of an asshole with Selena than I would if I’d cried with some other woman. But more than anything I feel like an asshole for self-pitying myself after hearing Selena’s story. I don’t know what’s happened to me in this cell. It’s like she’s cast a spell on me.

 

“I want to tear this Clint bastard apart,” I say. “I’ll find him and I’ll make him pay. I’ll end him.” My anger drives my words, not logic. If logic was driving them I wouldn’t be saying any of this because most likely I’ll be dead by tomorrow.

 

“You don’t have to do that,” she says. “He’s in prison for a long time. He tried to kill me.”

 

“You don’t think I can get him in jail?”

 

“Dante!” Selena snaps. “I don’t want that. He’s gone. I’m done with him. To have you do something to him would be like admitting he’s still a part of my life, like he has some say in what I do. He doesn’t, okay? He doesn’t have any say at all. He’s a small little man and he’s never getting out.”

 

I nod. “Okay, then.”

 

As I wait for death, I sit with this woman, and we talk about nothing and everything. In this cell with Selena, I’ve already talked more than I have to most women in my life.

 

“So you’ve never read much?”

 

“I never finished school,” I say. “I was too busy.”

 

“Doing what?”

 

“Fighting. Outlawing.”

 

“At fifteen?”

 

“Hell, at twelve. Markus started me young.”

 

“Wasn’t that scary?”

 

“I guess it was. Fear is like a muscle, though.”

 

“The more you work it the bigger it gets?” she shoots.

 

“I was gonna say the more you work it, the stronger you get. I guess I was scared once, but I’m not anymore.”

 

“So nothing scares you?”

 

I trace her lips with her finger. “The idea of losing you scares the shit outta me. That’s why I’m here. Though I can’t say there’s much reason in it.”

 

“Because we only met yesterday? Or a couple of days ago? I’m not even sure exactly how long it’s been except that my belly really hurts.”

 

“Mine too,” I say. It growls for food. “But yeah, you’re right. It’s crazy to me. We met so recently and yet, I need you.” I laugh, feeling like a fool. “I couldn’t just leave you here. Everybody’s been acting all surprised by me because I won’t just let you go. I’m not usually the love-struck man. One of my friends said it was Cupid, and I’ve got half a mind to agree with him.”

 

“Cupid,” Selena muses. “And not just my winning personality?”

 

“Maybe it’s partly that.”

 

“So what did you do?” Selena asks. “When you were a kid, apart from outlawing? Because I read a lot, probably too much. I was that weird girl sitting alone in the cafeteria with my head in the clouds. I remember once, even a teacher told me I read too much. Not in so many words, but told me I was antisocial and should make more of an effort with the other students. Maybe she was right. But you should’ve seen Mom when she found out. It was like watching a tornado head for the teacher’s office.”

 

“Why reading?” I ask. “I’ve never much seen the appeal.”

 

“Because when you read, you can be anybody. Being somebody else is very appealing to a young, awkward girl. My guess is there are as many different reasons that people like reading as there are readers. But you haven’t answered my question. What did you do as a kid?”

 

“You mean kid stuff?”

 

“Yeah.” She smiles. “Kid stuff.” She touches her belly, maybe thinking about the pact that started all this.

 

“I played video games. I played quite a few video games, in fact, until Mom and Markus sold the Xbox.”

 

“They sold it?”

 

“Don’t cry over it,” I say. “They needed the cash. It was a low point in the club or some shit.” I tell her not to get upset about it, but the truth is the day they sold it I was angrier than I’d ever been as a kid, even when I was beating the shit out of the other kids at school for calling me a lowlife. The kids’ parents told them I was a dirty wretch on account of my brother, and not to bother with me.

 

“Where are you?” Selena asks. “Because you’re not here, with me. You’re up in the clouds somewhere.”

 

“I wish that door would open,” I say, staring at it as though that’ll accomplish anything. “I’m tired of waiting for something to happen. There’s nothing worse in life than waiting for something to happen.”

 

“Are you really that eager to be taken to Mexico and made into a slave?” Selena whispers. I can tell the idea terrifies her. She doesn’t want me to go. She doesn’t want me to suffer. I don’t know what she’d say if I told her what is really going to happen. But I won’t tell her. She needs to get out of here. That’s all that matters to me.

 

“What if the stress has stopped me getting pregnant?” she says, a cute smile on her lips, a wicked glint in her eyes. “Can we keep trying?”

 

I think of a gravestone with my name on it. Can a gravestone fuck? I would laugh if it wouldn’t make her ask for an explanation. I kiss her instead, tongues dancing, lips scraping, bodies pressed close. “We can keep trying,” I say, when the kiss ends, though she must know it’s impossible. There are things I want to say to her, like how I want to take things past the original agreement, about how I never wanted kids but I think having them with her would be the best damn thing ever. But if I say them then she might think they have a chance of happening, and I know they can’t. This is the end of the road for me, but it doesn’t have to be for her.

 

But then she does it for me.

 

“I want more than our agreement,” she says. “I know they’re going to take you away, but you’ll escape. You’ll escape and you’ll find me and then we’ll run away together. I know how mad that sounds but we can do it, Dante. We’ll go somewhere far away just like your brother was going to. We’ll start a new life. We’ll take Mom with us and get her into a hospital wherever we end up. We’ll fight for a new life. We’ll have a family.” She pauses. “Or am I coming across like the most forward overbearing person in the history of forward overbearing people?”

 

“Not even slightly,” I say. “I want all that too.”

 

“But it doesn’t—”

 

“Make sense,” I finish. “No, it doesn’t. But I’m starting to think that making sense isn’t so important when it comes to us. If we want each other, we want each other. It’s as simple as that.”

 

She’s about to reply, when a knock comes from the door. I go to it, limping and ignoring the stabbing pain in my leg. “Yeah?”

 

“I just want to say one final goodbye,” Brose says, unable to contain his excitement. “I regret that I can’t be here when they finally put you out of your misery, but unfortunately business calls me away. I will visit the grave, though. I swear to you, my good friend, I will do that much.” He taps his cane against the door.

 

“And Selena?” I snap. “What about her? We had a deal …”

 

“Oh, they’ll let her go.”

 

“You have to let me see it before they kill me,” I say. “Otherwise I’ll fight, Brose. I swear I’ll fight.”

 

He sighs, and then says, “Yes, you can see her escape. I’ll give the orders. You’ll watch your little dove fly to safety and then wait for the executioner’s blade. If that seems like a good deal to you, I suppose you are stupider than even I guessed. And I guessed you were incredibly stupid!”

 

He walks down the hallway, tapping his cane, tittering.

 

When I turn to Selena her face has dropped. “Mexico,” she says, on her feet with her fists at her sides. “Mexico, you said.” Her cheeks quiver violently, her eyes full of rage. “Mexico, Dante? Mexico? They’re going to kill you!” She marches across the room, standing on her tiptoes so that she’s in my face. “They’re going to kill you!” she snarls. “You lied to me! You asshole! You lying fucking asshole! Do you really think I’m going to let them kill you? Do you seriously think that’s going to happen?”

 

“What other choice is there?” I wave a hand around the cell. “I tried to rescue you. I failed. I tried to make it so my men could rescue you. I failed. We’re fucked. Either I die or you do. That doesn’t seem like a complicated choice to me.”

 

She turns her back to me. “It’s not happening,” she says. “I won’t let it. So you can believe anything you want. But I’m telling you right now that it’s not happening. When they come through that door, I’m killing them. I don’t care how many. Do you think I’m some soft flower because I blossomed for you? Is that your idea? I spent years being made strong by an evil worm of a man until even when he cut me, I didn’t feel it! Do you think I’m some soft flower? I fought for my life and I won! And now I’m going to fight for your life. Don’t say anything. You can’t change my mind.”

 

I wait for a few minutes, and then approach her. Her back rises and falls, her fists clenched so hard her knuckles are white. I place my hand on her shoulders. “This is the only way,” I tell her. “And if you try and get involved I’ll have to stop you.”

 

“What, you’re on their side now?” She turns on me. A tear slides down her cheek.

 

“I’m on your side, only yours. I don’t care about anybody else. I just want you to be okay.”

 

“And you think I’ll be okay if I live the rest of my life knowing it was my fault you’re dead?”

 

“How is it your fault? Explain that to me, Selena. Because the last time I checked, you were abducted outside my apartment building. I never should’ve brought you home. It was a mistake.”

 

“So now all of this is a mistake?” she snaps. “So what you were saying five minutes ago about us being close and how it doesn’t have to make sense. It’s as simple as that … But it’s not as simple as that, is it, because on some level you regret meeting me in that bar.”

 

“I’m giving my life for you!” I roar, taking a step back. “They’re going to take me into the desert and put a bullet in me and all for you, and you’re gonna accuse me of not giving a damn? Are you mad? Is that it? Have you gone fuckin’ crazy?”

 

“Maybe I am!” she hisses. “Maybe I’m crazy. Maybe I’m crazy because I love you, Dante! Do you understand? I love you, and I don’t care if that makes me crazy! I love you, and I’m not letting them kill you!”

 

I put my hand over her mouth. “Quiet,” I say. “If they hear you …”

 

She bites my hand. “I don’t care,” she says, when I pull my hand away. “I’m not letting them hurt you and that’s that. Conversation over. Now leave me alone. Get away from me so I can get ready to save your life.”

 

I have no other choice but to retreat to the other side of the room, head low, feeling dejected.

 

The whole thing is a confusing mess, but I know one thing for sure: I can’t let her risk her life for mine.