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Xavier breathes hard. “Two on your left.”

Chapter 41

Zayden

Iswipe a knife from the table and stand, flipping the utensil so the blade is between my forefinger and thumb before throwing it. It buries itself in the forehead of one of the men to my left, and I grab the second available weapon—a whiskey bottle. I stride forward, another man fumbling for his gun, still pale faced as he stares at his fallen colleague.

I’m in agony, my wounds bleeding, my body aching and exhausted, but I somehow find the energy to smash the bottle over his head, the glass thick enough to cave his skull, and he drops to the ground. Back at the table, Yale is up, and Ryker is somehow gone. Silence is ducked low as Yale works on her handcuffs, and Bullet is under the table, tail wagging despite the commotion.

Late last night when Xavier and I leant against each other with the bars between us, he noticed the paper in my jacket pocket. I’d been too out of it to notice, but scribbled across it was a quick note slipped in there, likely by the doctor.

Tomorrow. 6pm.

Charlie was coming for us.

Xavier and I stayed up all night talking. We knew Ryker would try to turn us against each other, so we confessed everything. Painful, angry truths, things we swore we’d never say. It was hard, but oddly cathartic, and by the end, we were vowing never to keep a goddamn secret again. If only Silence and Yale had been with us, so they knew what we’d planned. Regardless, Yale has removed her handcuffs, and he tugs her to the other side of the room where Xavier is.

I take the guns from the two men I’ve killed, and I slide one across the floor as I call out X’s name.

He picks it up, a wild grin on his face as he fires. Despite the adrenaline, I feel like I’m wading through tar, so I take down the rest of the men as quickly as I can.

A beam of light streams through the windows. I shield my eyes, the heavy beat of a helicopter throbbing against my ears.

Xavier is already guiding Silence toward me. Yale is close behind, Bullet on his heels until he gallops ahead.

“Are you okay?” I shout to Silence over the roar of the helicopter, but she mustn’t hear me, because she doesn’t respond.

We’re in the foyer when more men appear. I use the last of my bullets, and Xavier takes over. “Go!” he shouts, just as the doors burst open. A silhouette in the doorway makes it clear who it is.

Charlie loads his weapon, slamming the heel of his palm into the butt of his gun to lock his ammo in place. “I’ve arrived!”

Yale grins at me, and I’m smiling too as Charlie barrels into the room like a goddamn hurricane. Envy appears behind him, much more casual, almost bored. She strides by me, turning to face me and walking backward.

“You look like shit.”

“Thanks,” I say, and she gives me a thumbs-up as she helps Charlie.

As we step outside, we’re swallowed by Charlie’s men. The helicopter hovers over the grounds, the steady thrum of the blades pulsing above us. Silence’s hair whips about as she watches the chopper land, a second one touching down not too far away.

An explosion rocks the building, and we duck as fire bursts into the sky, illuminating the grounds.

Envy and Charlie reappear. He says, “That wasn’t us. This place is probably rigged to stop us getting anywhere. We go, now.”

I nod, and Charlie and Envy make their way to the second helicopter. As Charlie’s men leave the way they came, Yale and Xavier lead the way toward the first chopper. Bullet bounds forward happily, leaping inside like he’s done it a thousand times. Yale climbs in, followed by Xavier.

“Ready?” I say to Silence. She’s staring into the distance, her hair dancing around her. When she meets my eye, I try to smile. “Q?”

Her gaze drops to where our hands are interlocked, and she pulls away.

“What—” She turns to leave, and I grab her hand, pulling her back. “What are you doing?”

“Is it true?”

Between the thumping of the helicopter blades and the beating of my heart, I can hardly string a thought together, let alone a sentence. “What?”

“Did you kill my dad?”

The wind batters us. The sound of the engine pulses against my ears. Another explosion goes off on the East Wing, but Silence doesn’t even flinch. The moment slows between us, and for the first time in almost ten years, there’s a disconnect.