first against the wall when the revolution comes“I’m afraid.”
The long fingers worked methodically, carefully, as if he didn’t strip and clean the revolver every month, as if it were the first time. Algy lay on the bed, the sheet scratching his cheek, and watched.
The acrid glow of scotch was still in his mouth. Cheap stuff. Not even von Stalhein could get decent scotch now.
“I’m afraid that if it ever comes down to a straight choice, I might still choose him.”
It astonished him that he’d ever thought of Erich’s smiles as cold. They were so full of ice they burned.