“I did what I had to,” I say to the marble floor.
“And what is that exactly?” he asks in that bored-out-of-his-mind tone.
I lift my head so I know he can see the conviction I feel. “Saving the lives of your daughter and the son of one of the most influential families in this city from a psychopath intent on killing both of them.”
The eyes of Star’s father widen a fraction. One of my guards mistakes the honesty in my voice for insolence and quickly rewards it with a blow to the side of my head. It sends me toppling to my side, ears ringing, vision blurring.
I’m not allowed the chance to recover when I’m yanked back to my kneeling position. My head is spinning, like my brain’s been placed into a food processor. I shut my eyes to stave off the rising nausea.
“I don’t believe that is the best tact to use in this room, RC,” the boss responds. “I’m grateful that my daughter is still alive. And I’m sure Bedlam’s father feels the same way. But as a father myself, I can say I understand what Horacio is going through.”
“Thank you, sir.” The underboss’s reply is strained. He’s really trying hard to keep it together.
“I would be beside myself if something happened to Zamara,” the boss continues. “To lose an heir is devastation personified.”
A pause.
I open my eyes and tilt my head toward Brody just in time to see him nod at the boss. He must have been given the signal to speak. I have no doubt what he’s about to say has nothing to do with defending me. This is not a trial. There are no such things in a mobocracy. The men in this room already know what will become of me. In fact, having me here is a formality, a way to maintain the honor between the families affected. The boss may be grateful that I saved Zamara’s life, but the price is too steep. Reparations must be made. Tension between the families of the boss and the underboss isn’t what is best for Terra One. In fact, the underboss is the only individual who can take down the Bitterblade family without help from the other families. He has enough forces and support to wrestle control of the city. But why go there when there is an infinitely more favorable solution?
Brody catches my full attention when he begins to speak. “We have obtained a full confession from Viper. He has admitted to being an accomplice to Star’s actions and recounted when and how she conducted the killings. He’s also confirmed the reason for Star’s actions.” His gaze narrows at me. I feel no shame. Star’s obsession is her business. Besides existing for her to fixate on, I did nothing to earn it.
“But that doesn’t excuse the fact that this piece of trash killed my daughter.” The underboss points at me. I can see in the hard lines of his face that he’s wishing he had some sort of weapon in his hand, a gun maybe. Killing me now would certainly give him that kind of satisfaction. It’s what I felt when the knife went into Star’s chest.
This is the thought that propels me to ask, “What about Hubcap and Whiplash and Chicane and Wrench and….” A lump keeps me from saying the last name as tears finally flood my vision. “What about those who have died under the hand of that psychopath?”
The underboss lunges at me. It takes four of his men to restrain him. No one lifts a muscle to protect me. The fact that the underboss is even being held back by his men is a miracle. Then one of them whispers into his ear, and the mountain of a man settles down. The sinister smile that stretches across his face reminds me so much of his daughter’s when she threatened to burn Bedlam and Zamara alive.
“RC….” The boss breathes out my name as if I’m some petulant child who can’t keep my mouth shut. “Regardless of the deaths caused by Star, there were a number of ways to avoid taking her life in your misguided attempt at justice, despite the danger to my daughter and Bedlam. She knows what she’s gotten herself into, and Bedlam can certainly take care of himself.”
What justice? Death is the only form of justice in Terra One. I snort, proud of myself for having enough fortitude not to share my opinion. I’m pretty sure it would earn me another blow to the side of the head from my loyal guards. The bullshit keeps on coming. Despite his concern for Zamara’s welfare, the fact that he allowed her to participate in the Impulse Cup even while knowing there was a killer out there targeting drivers shows he can care less whether his “heir” survives or not. Zamara is a means to an end for him, someone he indulges until the time comes when she has to take over. And the award for father of the year goes to….
“Like I said,” I say after gathering my courage, “I did what I had to do.”
“Then you will understand that right now, for the good of Terra One, I’m doing what I have to do,” he retorts, then shifts so he and the underboss are looking at each other. They share a nod. The boss returns his focus on me. “It’s a shame to lose such a promising driver. Here I thought this was the year we’d win the Impulse Cup.”
His words are a blow to my chest. Precious breath escapes me. It’s true. Considering what I’ve done, this year’s IC is my last. The sense of loss that assails me is crippling. Whatever punishment they throw at me, I don’t have any strength to refuse. For a momentary lapse of common sense—letting grief and anger take over—I lose everything. The boss is right. There were
