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Branson smirks. “Follow my lead. I have it figured out.”
Walking into the underground tunnel, Branson pauses at the closing door. Opening his suit jacket, he pulls out two small devices. After ripping the paper off the backs, he sticks the devices on both sides of the doors.
“What is that?”
“Bombs.”
I frown. “They’re so small, though.”
He grins. “Big things come in small packages.”
I snort. “That’s a cliché.”
He wraps an arm around me, pulling me into his side. “But fuck if it isn’t true.”
We continue down the tunnel, Branson placing bombs in the dark gaps between lights. We approach the same red door, and a shiver works its way through me. He murmurs the password, and the door opens. Once we’re on the other side, he looks both ways before sticking a device on each side of the red door. Instead of traveling the path we took the last time we were here, he leads me down several hallways and we go through so many turns I get lost, but then I see a door. “What’s that?”
He pulls four devices out, placing two on each side of the door. “Emergency exit.” I look at him confused, and he sighs. “If we make the exits collapse in on themselves, there is no way of escaping. Raiden is handling the building upstairs. When we’re done, the exits will collapse and the building will cave in on itself. No way in, no way out.”
I reach deep into myself, searching for any remorse for what I’m about to do. It must show on my face because Branson pulls me to him. “This is the perfect night. It’s butterfly night, which means only children will be brought in here this evening.” I nod, thankful for that, but there are innocents here. “Every war has casualties, Darling.”
We move back through the hallways, coming to the outside of the main room. Branson takes his jacket off and I see a flash of around twenty devices still on him. He lays his jacket down casually, and wraps an arm around me, guiding me toward the exit.
“Time to move. Get out of there!” Tucker shouts through the earpiece. Once we have passed the red door, Branson and I take off running. “Easton McKnight and Ezra just took the buses back to BurBay. It’s a bloody mess, Ezra left bodies in the open. We need to move now or we’re going to get caught.”
“Got it,” Branson murmurs just as we exit the tunnel. We begin running, when Branson pushes me down and lands on top of me. I hear the explosion before I feel heat over my body. You can hear the building groan before collapsing. My ears ring and when I try to stand, I fall back down. Looking up, I see black smoke polluting the air, a fire roaring high above where the building stood. Sirens go off in the distance and I pull on Branson, who groans as he rolls over to face me.His eyes are twinkling and a small smile is on his lips. “Look at you, wreaking havoc on The Children of Nobility’s famous establishment.
I smile, pushing his hair out of his eyes. Tires squeal behind us, then Tucker and Raiden jump out, grabbing us and putting us into the back of the SUV. The sirens get closer, and Tucker curses under his breath as he looks in the rearview mirror. The car takes a sharp turn left, my head smacking against the window. “Shit, Strawberry, my bad.”
Rubbing my head, I wince. “It’s fine, Tuck.” It isn’t. My head is throbbing from the explosion, and I doubt it needs this extra trauma.
The ride is quiet as Tucker drives. I’m sinking into myself. When I came up with this plan, it was a no-brainer, a twisted take on Robin Hood, an act of revenge for the little girl who still curls up in my brain, crying as she relives every crippling memory. But now, left in the silence of my actions, I have to wonder… innocent people died tonight by my hands. Sure, I saved a lot of kids, but I killed servers, bartenders, and hostesses. People working late in the building above. Does justice mean anything when you kill innocents? Doesn’t that defeat the purpose?
I watch the flashing lights of the city as I stare out the window, wishing I could see the stars or maybe the rain.
And the question that haunts me the most? Am I any better than any of them now?
Chapter 22
Past
Branson
At my tender age of three, just after being potty trained, I knew what I liked. I liked dinosaur chicken nuggets. Other chicken nuggets were bland, and you couldn’t pretend they were screaming when you bit their heads off.
I liked my mom, even though she was constantly in bed. Her brain was sick, and I asked why she couldn’t just take some medicine to make it better. She always smiled, patted my head, and sent me away. Grown-ups confused me and I chose not to deal with their brand of crazy.
I loved my sister. She was my other half. I was older by two minutes, and I’d never let her forget it. I also really liked my nanny. She was always playing with my sister and me. Took us for ice cream dates and generally cared about us.
I didn’t care much for my dad, the way he made my nanny scream late at night when everyone was asleep. I didn’t understand why he was always making her beg.
But the worst thing was when he called me into his office. His friend, Johnathan Ashford, was always present, bringing along Tucker. I didn’t hate that part, I hated that it was always to talk business. I could barely wash my butt; I wasn’t ready for business talk.
Today, I was summoned. The red carpets, the dark oak furniture, the smoke that was in the air. It was very dull and sad. Instead of the Ashfords, the Prescotts were here. Raiden sat next to his dad, scowling at his shoes. His mother carried a bundle in her arms. Soft pink with white flowers on the blanket. I kicked my feet back and forth in the chair as I sat, wondering if we’d get chicken nuggets today or if they’d make me eat veggies. That was another thing I could add to my ‘do not like’ list.
Matilda came closer to me. There was something about her that drew me to her. Maybe it was the loving way she cared for her son or held her tiny baby. Or the smile she gave me as she sat the baby in my arms. I went stiff, looking at my dad with a ‘what the heck’ look.
“What is this?” I asked, peering down at the baby girl. Her skin was soft-looking, cheek rosy pink, and hair a mixture of blonde and red in tight curls on her head.
