Page 193 of House of Cards

“How’s he supposed to beg if his throat’s slit?” Elonzo’s voice is deceptively calm, but the worried look Luis throws him makes my skin crawl, like he’s expecting more than a kick in the ribs from his boss.

“He was disrespecting me,Patrón,”?4 Luis mumbles.

Elonzo dismisses him with a flick of his fingers, turning his attention to me, Smith, and Ricky. He gives us each a lengthy once-over, his eyes lingering on me until the hair on the back of my neck is standing up.

Those eyes harden when he looks at Ricky again. “Want to tell the class why we’re all in detention,Marconi?”

That same strange stab goes through at hearing my step-father’s last name. I open my mouth to set Elonzo straight, but Ricky beats me to it.

“I told you, I’ll fix my mistake,” he grates out through teeth clenched in pain.

“Fix it?Fixit?” Elonzo slaps his leg as he lets out a sharp laugh. “Fixingit is exactly how you got here,pendejo!” ?5

Fixing what? What the hell is Elonzo talking about?

But Elonzo has the attention span of a dog in a park full of squirrels, because he lasers in on Smith before Ricky can reply.

“You,” he drawls, almost nonchalantly. “Did you really think I wouldn’t catch you, Hutch?”

Smith straightens as much as he can with his hands bound behind him. “This is between me and you. They’re just going to complicate things.”

Something dies inside me at the offhand way he speaks about me. Even Ricky throws him a confused glance.

“Counting on it.” Elonzo stares at Smith’s cheek, then his eyes slide to me, a slow, knowing smile spreading across his face. “Looks like you’re enjoying my sister’s sloppy seconds,mamacita.”

My breath catches. “Sister?” I croak. That only makes Elonzo’s smile brighten. His eyes flicker to Smith, whose face has turned to stone.

“He didn’t tell you, huh?” Elonzo grabs his gun out of his jeans and squats in front of Smith, clicking his tongue as he taps the muzzle against Smith’s temple. “Another relationship built on lies. Michelle. Zoey. Seeing a pattern here,gringo.”

The temperature in the room drops below freezing.

“You and my sister, you were made for each other. She was a lying cunt, just like you.” Elonzo clicks his tongue again, staring down at Smith with a bemused smile. “Got herself a sweetheart deal with the DEA before we sent her in.” He laughs. “Immunity, witness protection? That bitch would’ve found some fucking way.”

Smith’s eyes darken. “DEA,” he repeats woodenly.

“Las rataseverywhere!” Elonzo throws his arms up, grinning wildly. Then his voice drops to a dangerous whisper. “That fucking rat thought she could play both sides. Feeding those DEA cocksuckers a fucking buffet of intel.” He flicks his hands, lips pursing. “If it wasn’t you who put a bullet in her, it would’ve been me.”

Smith’s jaw clenches. “She was dead the moment she walked into that warehouse.”

A stab of guilt hits me.

Smith was right. Michelle was dead either way. His men were dead either way. All he could do was make sure she didn’t suffer.

But still…to make that kind of choice in a split second, and happily live out the rest of your days without a hint of guilt, is terrifying.

These men are all monsters.

For the first time, when I look at Smith, I can see him for what he truly is. Not just a sadist who gets off on other people’s pain, but a cold-blooded psychopath. A man who didn’t hesitate to kill the woman he claimed to love because it was the merciful thing to do.

…Should I have left you where the rats and cockroaches could get at you…?

If I survive this—whenI survive this—I need to get Ricky and run. Far away from Smith, from Elonzo, from all of this. I’m an idiot for thinking there was something redeemable in Smith, something worth coming back for. Like he’d change for me.

He won’t.

They never do.

But Smith doesn’t look at me. He has every right to give me ‘I told you so’ eyes. To drive home the fact that I was wrong, and he was right.