Page 54 of Desecrated Saints
“So you were just getting paid to be a ray of fucking sunshine for us all?” I point out, ready to blow this entire shitshow off. “Cry me a damn river.”
Miss White cuts me a cold look, but doesn’t refute my argument. We all know that she’s a piece of work, there’s no point denying it. She reaches into her coat pocket and places a slim thumb drive on the table.
“It’s all on there. I’m just asking for a second chance, that’s all.”
“Who says that you deserve it?” Brooklyn laughs.
“Are you really one to talk? Call me a monster if you want, I’ve probably earned it. But it takes one to know one, Miss West. Don’t forget what brought you to my institute.”
I throw an arm around Brooklyn’s shoulders, attempting to stop her from creating a bloodbath, but the next growl of anger comes from behind us.
“You knew.”
Seven rounds on Miss White. Rather than hold her in the air, he tosses her thin frame across the courtyard without a second thought. She screams and smacks into a brick wall with a crunch. Blood spreads from the back of her head as she fights to get to her feet and falls.
“Jude, please—”
“You knew. All those months, you knew exactly what Lazlo was doing. You knew about Lucia, the Z Wing, everything. Do you know what they did to me, Elizabeth?”
Judging by the look on Miss White’s face, she knows she’s in trouble.
“Please… I didn’t know what they were going to do to you. You have to believe me.”
He punches her straight between the eyes. Miss White sobs as she clutches her bleeding, swollen face. I feel zero need to intervene. The bitch deserves a good beating for all she’s enabled.
“Six years, Elizabeth. Six goddamn years. You did nothing.”
“I didn’t know you were alive…”
“Don’t lie to me!”
The fire alarm cuts off, indicating our time is running out. I pocket my gun and help Brooklyn stand, catching sight of her swiping the thumb drive. Miss White’s a fool. We could simply leave her for dead and escape with her bargaining chip right now.
Too easy, a mental voice whispers.
Raised voices coming from inside of the club have us all glued to the spot. Backing my family into the corner of the smoking area, myself and Kade train our weapons on the empty doorway. The beat of heavy footsteps approaches.
“Whatever happens, get Brooklyn out,” I instruct the group.
She fires a curse straight at me. “I’m not leaving without you, motherfucker.”
Shouting and barked orders rip through the air, with a rush of bodies entering the smoking area. Faces cloaked by thick balaclavas, the assailants carry scarily professional assault rifles. In a matter of seconds, we have six of them trained on us.
“Drop your weapons!”
None of us move, aiming straight for their heads.
“You’re outnumbered. Back down, kids.”
Surrounding us in a tightly packed circle, one figure steps forward and tears the balaclava from his face. I’m not even surprised to find Taggert, one of the less-than-friendly guards who made our lives miserable in Blackwood.
“Where’s your buddy, Jackson?” I sneer.
“Burned to ashes by you fucking psychos,” Taggert shouts.
“Don’t worry. You can join him soon enough.”
“That’s not how this is going to go. We’ve already found your little warehouse hideout. There’s no running. We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”