Page 83 of Savage Roses
I exchange a glance with Omar and Arturo.
“Hello,” she slurs. Her lips curl into a small, ironic smile. “Here to kill me? You have discovered my deception.”
“Look,” I growl between gritted teeth, “whatever stupid fucking game you’re playing, I’ve got no patience. I warned you what would happen if you lied.”
“I am sorry… but I was telling the truth. Partially. The second VHS tapewasthere. Mr. Ernest hid the tape at that station, because it was abandoned and he thought to keep it for insurance.”
“There was no damn tape!”
“But there was… until I took it earlier today. Before I met with you. I had plans.” She rises from the chair she’s seated in and lumbers over to her kitchen that’s not really a kitchen—the sink, stove and mini fridge are a single connected unit attached to the yellow-tiled wall. She pulls open the stove and withdraws a VHS tape from inside. “I made a mistake. A very, very bad one. I called Mr. Lucius. I hung up, but he will trace it back to me. I was going to make my confession and give this to him. I was hoping he would spare me despite what I did. That maybe he would go after you instead. But… I could not do it. I could not betray Volchok.”
I stride forward, my gait fast and uncompromising with power in each step. I reach her in no time and snatch the tape out of her thin fingers.
There’s a catch. This can’t be it. Lena can’t be trusted. She’s setting us up—then again, I have the tape in my grasp, and looking down at it, it seems legit.
Its labeling matches the first tape.
I glare at her. “You still don’t get to live. You fucked up by lying and sending us to that police station. You think just ‘cuz you confess now you’ll get a pass? I’ve got some bad news for you, sweetheart.”
“Do as you wish.” She takes another swig of her vodka and wanders back over to the window.
Strangely enough, something about her reminds me of Stefania in this moment. It’s in how she lurches when she moves, slurring her words, eyes filled with deep longing and regret. I don’t give a fuck to know more of her story, but it seems clear something’s weighing on her.
“I doomed him,” she whispers a second later. “Everything that has gone wrong. And it is my fault.”
“Save the tears. Arturo.”
He slings back the hammer on his gun and levels it in her direction.
“You can kill me. But they will kill you.”
Arturo’s face screws up in confusion. “This bitch really is crazy.”
“Outside. We have company. Just as I thought. Quicker than I anticipated. They have come for me. He always gets his way.”
I move to the window, nudging her out of the way. Omar and Arturo do the same.
Sure enough, Lena’s finally telling the truth—three of Lucius’s vehicles are parked along the curb and a gang of men have gotten out and shot toward the building entrance.
We’re outnumbered twelve to three. At least.
“Shit!” I grunt, my mind racing with possible scenarios on how this’ll play out.
Omar and Arturo are no different.
“What do you want us to do?” Omar asks. “You hear that? It sounds like they’re already in the hall.”
“Stay here.”
They start to protest, but I don’t give them the opportunity to, disappearing into the one other room in Lena Burtka’s shitty studio. The bathroom is the only place where I can maybe get away with stowing it. My gaze flicks up to the ceiling tiles infested with mold.
The commotion outside intensifies. Omar and Arturo call for me. Lena slurs something about pulling the trigger.
My heart’s hammering away in my ribcage as I emerge to the sight of the studio door being blasted open. As if us kicking it in wasn’t enough, they’ve blown a hole through the door.
“Fuck!” yells Arturo. Omar’s no less panicked.
Meanwhile, I’m calm and composed, knowing there’s no way we’re escaping. Not without a lot of bloodshed and some kills. I’ve got my pistol and my knives, though the odds are stacked against us.