Scarred by Vengeance (Titanium Book 2)

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Scarred by Vengeance (Titanium Book 2) Page 8

by Valia Lind


  Leaving without saying goodbye to Calen may be dumb after what I just put him through, but maybe he'll actually sleep if I don't mention that I'm going out. Closing the door behind me, I'm so tempted to just stay, but the war inside me won't quiet down. My bike is in the outside garage, so instead of going back in, that's where I head.

  I greet my red and black beauty like an old friend. Before Calen came with me, I was going to take her out for a spin and never got the chance to do so. I love the feel of her, as we glide over hills and around curves, moving as one.

  There's something special about having control over something so powerful. I guess I can draw all kinds of parallels there, but I won't. I lead my bike out of the garage and down the street without turning it on, so the roar of her engine won’t alert Calen of the fact that I’m leaving. Once out on the road, I keep walking. The crisp air and the quietness of the night do my mind a world of good.

  Before I can lose control in my own head, I swing my leg over the bike and take it for a ride. I need the speed, the danger, the excitement.

  I also need answers and hopefully I can get them before I lose myself completely.

  * * *

  I drive around for an hour, before heading toward my destination.

  There's a pull I can't ignore when it comes to him, and I knew that I would be back the second I walked away from him earlier. I just didn't think it would be this soon. Two hours later, I park my bike down the street and head toward the hospital. Now that I don't have Calen watching my back, I'm much more careful, but it's not like I'm terrible at the whole sneaking in thing. I've been good at it since I watched my parents murdered in front of my eyes.

  Blending in.

  Finding unconventional ways to get into places.

  Seeing people as objects that can be manipulated.

  These are the things I'm good at. I failed with Foster and that's something that will sit heavily with me for the rest of my life. But I underestimated the monsters and that's not a mistake I'm likely to make again. Which is why I'm sneaking into Logan's room. There are answers with him that I need. Regardless of how he makes me feel.

  I grab an EMT jacket from one of the ambulances, slipping into the side emergency room door for employees only. If anyone sees me, I'll play it off as a dumb girlfriend. The jacket covers the knives on the side of my pant leg, and the smile on my face can only help with the charade. But thankfully, when I step inside, no one is there.

  I hurry to the closest locked locker, getting it open in under twenty seconds, eighteen to be precise. Inside is an extra uniform and that's all I'm looking for. Quickly, I put the pants and shirt over my own clothes. It's not the best fit, but my intent is to not be noticeable. If I'm wearing the right colors, no one will look twice.

  Getting into his room is way too easy. One of the guards on duty is down the hall getting coffee, while the other is flirting with the night nurse. They're different from the pair this morning, so they already had their shift change. Works better for me. If they already checked in on Logan, they might not doing it again any time soon. Even so, I know I can't stay long.

  Once inside, I don't know why I'm here. All of this, every step of me getting back here was almost automatic. It's almost like compulsion for me. I have to be near him, I have to see him, and I don't understand it. Before I knew he was alive, he plagued me.

  I felt betrayed.

  I felt guilty.

  I felt enraged.

  Now that I know he's alive, I just want to see him and it doesn't make any sense. The need to scream is pretty overpowering, but I can't exactly give in. Stalking over to his bed, I place my hands next to one of his, leaning over him.

  "I want to know what you did to me. I want to know why I'm here. I should've killed you." I hiss every word at him, almost spitting in his face. And then, that anger and confusion starts to battle inside me in a whirl of emotional combat and I have to steady myself against his bed.

  Gasping, I lean over, clutching at my stomach as the anger pours out of me. In the back of my mind, I know that I need to look at the watch on my wrist and I barely manage that before another crushing blow. I can almost see the pain surrounding me, like a mist or a glowing light, before I shut my eyes against it.

  My consciousness comes back to me as suddenly as it left. This is exactly why I shouldn't have left Calen. We don't know what's wrong with me and here I am opening myself up to more of these...episodes. I stand in place for another twelve seconds before I look down at my watch.

  7 minutes.

  420 seconds.

  Too long.

  That's how much time I lost standing here, gasping for breath. I thought I was doing better, I thought I had more control. But the moment I found out Logan was back, it's like the whole warfare restarted again. This time, that much worse.

  Why am I even here? I turn my attention back to the boy who played make-believe games with my head. They sure did a number on him. He's black and blue, with a few bandages still around his body. But even though I only saw him twenty-one hours ago, there's more color to his face. Calen did a check on his medical records the first time we came here so I know he's not in a coma, per se. He's in a medically induced sleep treatment. He's supposed to be off of it in three days. They’re letting his own body do the healing.

  A part of me wonders if that's true. I mean, we're still trying to figure out what kind of effects Kallos drugs have on people. The Galena community shed some light on just how much control Kallos has, but even that is only a small aspect of the whole operation. With the drugs going into mass production, the time is running out, and I'm no closer to getting any answers. Or saving Blake.

  Just like that, the solution to my point becomes clear. I want to be in charge, and the only way for me to be in charge is to be on the inside. I glance at Logan again and think maybe this is the reason for coming here. Maybe he had the right idea the whole time. It's not that "if you can't beat them, join them" mantra. It's more like "if you can't beat them from the outside, do it from the inside."

  They did something to me on that dock. There's not question about it. What? We have yet to discover. But I've put enough people in danger. This is my battle. This is my war. And I cannot allow those I'm trying to protect to be part of it any longer.

  "I shouldn't have trusted you." I whisper, keeping my eyes trained on Logan's face. "I can't explain why I did. Maybe it was the unconscious side of me, reminding me that we were once friends, that pushed me into trusting you before I was ready to. But what's done is done. I have to keep going. And—” I don't even know why I'm talking to him. Maybe because he can't talk back? Can't tell me how horrible this idea is.

  "I can't keep putting those I love in danger. So I'm leaving everyone behind and I'm going to Foster. I know what you would say. Or you would've said before you betrayed me. That this is the worst idea ever. But I don't have a choice. And you're to blame just as much as anyone. I trusted you and you broke that trust. Nothing will ever be the same. When you wake up, nothing will ever be the same for you either. I'll see you on the dark side."

  I'm not sure when I've become so melodramatic, but the words leave my mouth before I can stop them. I know that the next time I see Logan, we'll both be working for Kallos. Well, I'll probably be strapped to a table, getting blood tests and experiments done, but I'm hoping if I'm convincing enough, they'll wait on those. Once I get Blake out, I don't care what happens to me. One way or the other, I will kill Foster, and then? Well, then, it doesn't really matter. I don't see a way out of this where I'll survive.

  This won’t just end Foster’s life, it will end mine too.

  11.

  When I return to the cabin, Calen is awake.

  I've been out all night and I feel like I'm a teenager, sneaking into the house, trying not to wake the parents. Calen probably knew I was gone the moment I left. He doesn't say anything as I come in through the front door. He's sitting at his desk, chair facing me, with a cup of coffee in his hands.
We stare at each other for a minute, studying the other as if it’s the first time we’ve seen each other in years. I'm worried I'll have to be the one to break the silence, but that’s not the case.

  "Do you feel better?" Calen's question surprises me, but it shouldn't. I've already established the fact that he can read me better than anyone I've ever known. So instead of the practiced lie I was going to deliver, I settle for the truth.

  "I feel more settled."

  Calen acknowledges that with a nod. He doesn't press for details, he doesn't scold me for leaving, but I still feel like I need to defend myself to him. I have to make him see my side of things, or he won't let me go.

  "Calen, we need to talk."

  "Ah, the words every man fears to hear." He says, the bitterness in his voice evident. He's angry with me. Truthfully, he has every right to be.

  "This isn't a joke," I snap and then instantly regret it.

  "No one said it was," Calen replies, just as hotly. He spins around in his chair, slamming his coffee down on the table, splashing some of it on the papers scattered across the surface. I take two steps closer, stopping with enough space between us to give us both breathing room. He's back to watching me, waiting for me to say whatever I came back to say. I think he knows I'm not staying.

  "I went to see Logan." This isn't what Calen expected to hear. I see the surprise on his face.

  "Did you—"

  "No. I didn't kill him." His eyebrows rise at those words, and I'm just as shocked at myself as he is. A part of me wanted to finish him when I stepped foot in that hospital. But a bigger part can't allow myself to do it. This may make me weak, but it's the last shred of humanity I have, and I'm holding on to it.

  "So what happened?" Calen asks, when I don't continue.

  "Nothing. I just—I guess I needed to see him. Again." I hurry on to continue before he points out that I just saw him that morning. "I think—I think many of my episodes," what a nice word that is for what's happening to my body, "are linked to him. I needed to know if that was true."

  "You went there specifically so you could have an ‘episode’?" Calen roars, but I don't flinch. I was expecting that. I was expecting his anger because I'm just as angry with myself. I cross my arms, neither one of us backing down. When I don't say anything yet again, he has to prompt me. "Well, did you?"

  "Yes." The word sends him to his feet, as he begins to pace in front of me. I've hurt him yet again. There's anger and confusion in his eyes when he turns to face me, and I try to not react. Because there's also desperation. I can't react to that. I can't allow it to derail me from my mission.

  "How long?" he barely can get the question out.

  "Seven minutes. I made sure to look. And I pulled myself back, Calen. I'm fine."

  "This time!" He yells, as I take a step back. His anger is deserved, but it's also like a knife to my gut. He's scared, so scared.

  And I'm about to make it worse.

  "Yes, this time." I say calmly, trying to keep the steel out of my voice. I have to be a monster, but I also have to make him see my side of things. "And next time, it'll be even better."

  "You're not going back there."

  It's as if with my statement, he realizes what I'm about to say and panic sets in. His feet carry him towards me, before he places his hands on my shoulders, peering down at me. "You're not going back there."

  "I am." I shrug out of his hold, taking a step back. "I'm going back, Calen... And I'm going to let Foster find me."

  This time, instead of anger, all I see on Calen's face is hopelessness. There’s nothing in his gaze but pain and worry, for myself and for his sister. He can see my determination and there's nothing he can say to make me change my mind. He knows that.

  "Why?" Is all he can manage.

  "Because I won't ever win from the outside. Logan had that idea and you see how far he got. That's what I have to do, Calen."

  "Logan knew what he was doing."

  "So do I. They did something to me," I say quickly, begging for him to understand. "I can use that to my advantage. Ihave to use it to my advantage."

  "And what if they use it for theirs? What then, Tasia? How are you to get out of the hornet’s nest then?"

  "It's not your decision to make, Calen." I stop him with a wave of my hand before he can start his rant. "It's not. It's my choice to put myself in the 'hornet’s nest' and to save Blake, to keep you safe, I will do what it takes. You can't change my mind. Because I will do whatever I need to do to save you."

  My voice is tired and barely above a whisper when I speak the last words. Calen seems to deflate at the finality of what I just said and it takes everything in me not to take it back. Instead, I step forward, wrapping my arms around his tall frame. Even though he's much bigger than I am, he feels smaller. When he speaks, I almost don't hear him.

  "I'm going to lose you both."

  "No!" I say, squeezing him tighter, until his own arms wind around my shoulders. "I'm going to bring her back."

  And then, I'll let you both go. The promise to save Blake has been made over and over again, and now I'm finally acting on it.

  Calen nods against my shoulder and I know he's resigned to the fate I've handed him.

  "First, you need to talk to Uncle Freddie."

  * * *

  "Are you sure about this?" Uncle Freddie asks for what seems like the millionth time. He got here about an hour ago and hasn't really asked me anything else. I still haven't really told them what I was going to do. Mostly, I just said I was going back to the community and pretend to be part of it. Foster would find me from there.

  I took an hour nap, it's all my overhyped brain would give me, and I've been in the process of packing the essentials since Uncle Freddie got here. It's not as if I can take all my weapons with me, I have to be careful about what I bring into the neighborhood. The knives that I carry on me at all times must stay behind and it makes me a tad bit sad pulling them out of my boots and placing them on the bed.

  Calen hasn't really said anything, and it's starting to worry me. He's been pacing in the computer room since I made my announcement, seething. But he's also sad. And a sad Calen, is a dangerous Calen. I don't want him to do something he can't come back from when I'm not here to supervise. We sure are quite the pair.

  "Uncle Freddie, you know this is a solid plan."

  "It's also a plan that will blow up in your face. Hummingbird, think it through first."

  "I have thought it through. Uncle, nothing happened until I stepped into that gala and started this downward spiral. I have to see where it leads."

  "Even if it leads to your death?" Calen shouts, surprising all of us. Spinning around, I stare at where he's sitting on the bottom step, eyes on the floor.

  "Calen—"

  "You don't even care, is that it?" He asks, looking up, and meeting my eye with a heavy glare. He continues before I can find a way to answer that and make him believe it. "You don't care that when you walk in there, you may never walk out. You don't—"

  "What I care about," I snap, turning back to my bag. "Is getting Blake out. Nothing else matters right now. Nothing."

  I know Calen wants to say something else, but I turn to glare back at him and he doesn't open his mouth, just sits back down on the stair, eyes fixed on the floor. Maybe if he's mad at me, it'll be easier to say goodbye.

  "Hummingbird, can't you at least wait until your blood results come back? We need to know what's going on with you."

  "Uncle, there's not more time left to wait. The longer we do, the more danger Blake is in." I pull out all the tools in my tool belt, knowing exactly what to say to get them to let me go. They can't chose me over Blake.

  They can't.

  Doing one last check of items in my bag, I make sure my belt with a built in knife sheath is there as well as my holster. The other sheath is already strapped to the inside of my leg, and I have two more knives in my boots. I’m only taking one gun with me. I won't be going straight to the neighbo
rhood or to Foster, I need a little protection for the time being.

  Right now, I just need to put some distance between myself and those I care about.

  Once I'm done double checking the bag, there's not much more I can do. Turning around, I look at the two men who have always been there for me. Calen is still sitting on the step, while Uncle Freddie stands to my right, hands in his pockets.

  "It has to be done." I say, just as much for their benefit as for my own. I don't want this to be a goodbye, but it's hard not to think about it as one. If the worst does happen, I'll never see them again.

  Shockingly, the thought doesn't bring on any kind of emotional outburst and I'm hoping that means the drug, or whatever is in my system, is finally being flushed out. Just hopefully, not before I can use it to my advantage against Foster.

  Uncle Freddie steps up first, wrapping his arms around me. He doesn't hold me long, he's always been an awkward hugger, but he hangs on long enough to show me that he loves me. Just like he's been doing since the day I came to live with him. It just reaffirms what I already think, what I already know must be done.

  Calen doesn't move from his spot as I let Uncle Freddie go. I close the distance between us in three steps, coming to stand right in front of him. It seems like forever before he looks up to meet my gaze. I push all thoughts of reservation out of my mind as I look back at him.

  He can't see me waver.

  He can't notice that I'm scared.

  Being scared is not an option.

  Maybe it's seconds, maybe it's minutes, before Calen finally stands and reaches for me. His hug is strong, reassuring, and all the things he can't say right now. Because we both know, I'm far too close to staying and I have to go.

  12.

  It's been four days since I left Calen and Uncle Freddie at the cabin. In that time we've spoken twice. Well, Calen is still refusing to speak to me. It's a lot harder for me to let them go than I thought it would be, but my mind is too full to be worried about that right now.

 

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