SPOILER WARNING: If you haven't read past unravel me don't read as this chapter might have spoilers for later books.
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When I wake up in the morning adrenaline is rushing through me. This is the first time that my father has asked me to come on any sort of trip with him, besides the obligatory work ones. I get dressed and make sure to put on the coat with a gun in it. I'm not dying today.
I'm finished getting ready by 6:30 so I have time to grab breakfast before we go. I grab two danishes and bring them to Aaron's room. I go to knock on the door but before I can Aaron opens the door.
"Morning." I say to him. He doesn't reply. "It won't be that bad I promise and we can intervene before anything happens to her."
"Ok." I pass him the danish and say;
"Come on, eat up."
We finish our danishes relatively quickly and Aaron still has a few things to get ready, so I sit and wait on his bed. When he finishes we have half an hour to get down to the loading docks. They are jammed with soldiers and workers loading things onto tanks.
"How come there are so many people working down here today?" I ask Aaron.
"Because- oh shoot. Sorry, I forgot to tell you last night."
"It's ok, tell me now."
"Our father is preparing to go to war."
"What?"
"He's trying to lure them out of their hiding spots, his words not mine. That's why we took those prisoners, He knew they were important to the organization. He wants to crush and destroy them."
"Ah, yes. Thank you for that lovely summary of my plans, Aaron." We both jump and turn around. Our father stands behind us. "Now, we really must be going. I have things to set up once we're there.
We follow him to a tank at the very head of the group. Once inside I survey my surroundings. Ian, Brenden, Winston, and Emory sit at the back tied up and pressed against each other. I look at them with pity in my eyes before anyone can see me.
"Y/n!" My father calls from behind me. I jump a little. "Come here and sit."
I sit beside Aaron. The ride takes us a little less than 30 minutes. We get to a house looking almost identical to Mom's, just more run down. I miss her, Aaron and I haven't been over to see her in a while. I touch the gun hidden in my jacket's pocket. When we enter the inside looks nothing like the outside. It's in almost perfect condition.
When one of Dad's soldiers informs us that she's here Dad tells us to go into the kitchen. I hear my father open the door and start talking.
"It's refreshing, really," he says. "To see that the youth still value things like punctuality. It's always so frustrating when people waste my time."
Aaron is on edge.
He really loves her.
"Please, come in." He invites her into the house. They begin to sit down when Dad says;
"Oh wait, just one thing."
"Wha-" She tries to start a sentence and fails. He has her pinned against the wall. I hear multiple things hit the floor and finally, he tells her to have a seat.
"Where are the hostages?" She asks, her voice dry and raspy.
"They're fine. They'll be just fine. Are you sure you won't sit down?" a soldier says.
"What- What do you want from me?"
"You know, I'm not entirely sure anymore."
"What?"
"Well, you've certainly figured out that all of this is just a distraction, right? Surely you've realized that my ultimate goal was to lure your people out into my territory? My men are waiting for just one word. One word from me and they will seek out and destroy all of your little friends waiting so patiently within this half-mile radius. If you think I don't know exactly what's going on in my own land, young lady, you are quite mistaken. I've let these freaks live too freely among us, and it was my mistake. They're causing me too much trouble, and now it's time to take them out."
"I am one of those freaks," She tells him. "Why did you bring me here if all you want is to kill us? Why me? You didn't have to single me out."
"You're right. I came here with a purpose: to clean up the mess my children made, and to finally put an end to the naive efforts of a group of idiotic aberrations. To erase the lot of you from this sorry world. But then, just as I began drafting my plans, my son came to me and begged me not to kill you. Just you. He actually begged me not to kill you. It was just as pathetic as it was surprising."
I rub Aaron's arm and look at him with sorry eyes. He knows he shouldn't have asked our father anything.
I suddenly see something move out of the corner of my eye. I let go of Aaron and walk to the window. I survey the land outside. Nothing.
"Y/n." He whispers. "Get over here." I walk back over to him. We wait for my father to continue.
"Of course then I knew I had to meet you," he continues. "'I must meet the girl who's managed to bewitch my boy!' I said to myself. This girl who's managed to make him lose sight of his pride—his dignity—long enough to beg me for a favour. Do you know, when my son, or daughter, has ever asked me for a favour?" He pauses waiting for her to answer.
"Never." He takes a breath. "Never. Not once in nineteen years has he ever asked me for anything. Hard to believe, isn't it? I take full credit, of course. I raised them well. Taught them to be entirely self-reliant, self-possessed, unencumbered by the needs and wants that break most other men. So to hear these disgraceful, pleading words come out of his mouth? Well. Naturally, I was intrigued. I had to see you for myself. I needed to understand what he'd seen, what was so special about you that it could've caused such a colossal lapse in judgment. Though, to be perfectly honest, I really didn't think you'd show up. I mean I certainly hoped you would. But I thought if you did, you'd at least come with support—some form of backup. But here you are, wearing this spandex monstrosity"—he laughs out loud—"and you're all alone. Very stupid," he says. "But brave. I like that. I can admire bravery."
"Anyhow, I brought you here to teach my son a lesson. I had every intention of killing you," He says. We know what's coming. "And I preferred to do it where he would be sure to see it. War is messy," he adds. "It's easy to lose track of who's been killed and how they died and who killed whom, et cetera, et cetera. I wanted this particular death to be as clean and simple as the message it would convey. It's not good for him to form these kinds of attachments, after all. It's my duty as his father to put an end to that kind of nonsense."
"So why don't you just kill me?" She whispers voice as quiet as a mouse.
"I don't know. I had no idea you were going to be quite so lovely. I'm afraid my son never mentioned how beautiful you are. And it's always so difficult to kill a beautiful thing, besides, you surprised me. You arrived on time. Alone. You were actually willing to sacrifice yourself to save the worthless creatures stupid enough to get themselves caught."
He takes a sharp breath. "Maybe we could keep you. If you don't prove useful, you might prove entertaining, at the very least. Though if we did keep you, I suppose you'd have to come back to the capital with me, because I can't trust my son to do anything right anymore. I've given him far too many chances."
"Thanks for the offer," She says. "But I'd really rather jump off a cliff."
My jaw drops. She did not just say that. I was sure my father would shoot her for this but instead, he laughs.
"Oh my. Aaron, Y/n, would you come in here, please?"
We look between each other and I step aside so he can enter first. He stops in the doorway. I nudge him and motion for him to sit. Father is impatient though.
"Sit down," He says to us, motioning to a couch across from her. His eyes are glued to her.
"So I would like to know, how, exactly, you managed to get away. I'm suddenly curious, and my son has made it very difficult to extract these details." He asks her.
She just stares at him.
"How did you escape?" He asks again.
"The first or second time?" I bite my lip and pull away a little.
"Twice! You managed to escape twice!" He's laughing heartily now; he slaps his knee. "Incredible. Both times, then. How did you get away both times?"
"Well, the first time, I jumped out a window and I shot him the second time."
"You shot him?"
"Yes, I shot him. With his own gun."
Dad laughs quickly and then says;
What about her?" He points to me.
"Well she was going to shoot me the first time, but she wasn't there the second."
"Did she." He says.
"What's your name?" She asks. He looks at her.
"My name?" She nods.
"You may call me Supreme Commander Anderson," he says, still confused. "Why does that matter?"
"Anderson? But I thought your last name was Warner."
"Definitely not," he says to her. "My kids thought it would be a good idea to take their mother's last name because that's exactly the kind of stupid thing they'd do. The mistake, that they always make, time and time again—allowing their emotions to get in the way of their duty—it's pathetic," He says, looking in our direction. "Which is why as much as I'd like to let you live, my dear, I'm afraid you're too much of a distraction in his life. I cannot allow him to protect a person who has attempted to kill him." He shakes his head. "I can't believe I even have to have this conversation. What an embarrassment they've proven to be."
Father pulls out a gun and points it at her forehead. I jump up and back away from the couch.
"I'm sick of cleaning up after you two." He pulls Aaron up from the couch and pushes the gun into his good hand. "Shoot her, right now."
He looks at her, terror in his eyes. He wouldn't shoot her. I'm shocked when he aims it at her face. The same boy who was crying over killing her in my room yesterday is ready to do it.
"Hurry up," Father says. "The sooner you do this, the sooner you can move on. Now get this over with-"
Aaron cocks the gun and turns around. I half expected him to point it at me but he points it at our father. Juliette and I gasp. FAther pulls out another gun and points it at him.
"Point the gun in the right direction, Aaron. This is ridiculous."
"I have no interest in killing her."
"Fine. Y/n, you do it." He throws the gun at me. It lands at my feet. I pick it up and turn the safety off. I point it at her.
"Shoot her," He says through gritted teeth. "and I will put a bullet through your skull."
"Aaron!" I look at him.
"How charming." Father says. "What is it? Does she make you feel brave, boy? Does she make you feel strong? So much so you'd kill your own sister?" He lowers his voice. "I mean if you were I would've already done it." And I shoot. Not at Juliette but at my own father, who has wanted me dead for such a long time. It barely misses his head. He looks at me.
"You have both lost your minds. You," He points to Aaron. " over a stupid child who's too much of a coward to defend herself even with the barrel of a gun pointed right at her face. And you, over a boy who couldn't care if you lived or died, he ran from you and don't even try denying it. These are the people who you've fallen in love with. I don't know why I'm surprised."
I adjust the gun in my hand. I take in a breath.
"How many times," He asks. "have you two threatened to kill me? How many times have I woken up in the middle of the night to find you, even as little kids, trying to shoot me in my sleep?" He cocks his head. "Ten times? Maybe fifteen? I have to admit I've lost count. And how many times, were you able to go through with it? How many times did you succeed? How many times," he says, "did you burst into tears, apologizing, clinging to me like some demented—"
"Shut your mouth," Aaron and I say at the same time.
"You are weak, too pathetically sentimental. Don't want to kill your own father? Too afraid it'll break your miserable heart?"
"Shoot me," Father says, his eyes dancing, bright with amusement. "I said shoot me!" he shouts, this time reaching for Aaron's injured arm, grabbing him until his fingers are clenched tight around the wound, twisting his arm back until Aaron actually gasps from the pain, blinking too fast, trying desperately to suppress the scream building inside of him. His grip on the gun in his good hand wavers, just a little.
"Stop!" I scream. He releases him and pushes him back so hard that he stumbles. Aaron's face is chalk white. His sling is seeping with blood.
"So much talk. So much and never enough to follow through with it. You embarrass me. You make me sick." And he hits him right across the face. Aaron looks like he's about to pass out.
"Do you want to threaten me again?" Father is breathing hard as he speaks. "Do you still think you can defend your little girlfriend? Do you think I'm going to allow your stupid infatuation to get in the way of everything I've built? Everything I've worked toward?" his gun is no longer pointed at Juliette. He forgets me long enough to press the barrel of his gun into Aaron's forehead, twisting it, jabbing it against his skin as he speaks. "Have I taught you nothing?" he shouts. "Have you learned nothing from me—"
Juliette lunges for him. Grabs his throat. He sputters and gasps for air. Clawing at her hands and body trying to get away. He's turning wonderful shades of red and purple. She leans in and whispers something in his ear. He drops his gun and she grabs it, dropping him. He lays coughing on the floor trying to collect himself.
"Juliette-" Aaron starts.
"Warner, I'm going to need you to leave me alone right now."
She shifts the weight of the gun in her hand.
"You, you-" Father manages. She shoots him in the leg. He screams and she shoots him again, this time in the other leg. Blood is running down his pant legs. She aims at his chest. I back into a corner and watch the horror around me.
She's about to shoot when I hear an explosion. Glass shatters behind me. I drop into the corner I was standing in, still clutching my gun. I hear Aaron drop beside me, a syringe stuck in his back. I watch as Kenji moves away and grabs her.
"Juliette, the gun, drop the gun. We have to go. I need you to walk away, okay? Juliette? Can you understand me? I need you to back off right now. You're going to be okay—you're going to be all right—you're going to be fine, you just have to—" He starts saying to her.
"No, Kenji—" She says trying to pull away from his grip. "I have to kill him. I have to make sure he dies, I just need you to give me another second—"
"No," he says, "not yet, not right now, we can't. We can't kill him yet. It's too soon, okay?"
He pries the gun from her fingers. She's staring at my father. He notices and says;
"I think he fainted."
And she starts shaking so violently. Her whole body and I'm worried she's going to collapse. She starts to fall and Kenji catches her.
"We have to go." He says, trying to calm her down. "Are you going to be okay? I need you to walk with me, alright? We'll have to run, too."
"Warner. Where's-"
"I took care of Warner."
She suddenly realizes everything that's happening.
"Kenji, Kenji, where's Adam? What happened? Where are the hostages? Is everyone okay?"
"Adam is fine," he reassures her. "We slipped in the back door and found Ian and Emory." He looks toward the kitchen area. "They're in pretty bad shape, but Adam's hauling them out, trying to get them to wake up."
"What about the others? Brendan? A-and Winston?"
Kenji shakes his head. "I have no idea. But I have a feeling we'll be able to get them back."
"How?"
Kenji nods at Warner and me. "We're going to take these two hostage."
"What?"
"It's our best bet," he says to her. "Another trade. A real one, this time. Besides, it'll be fine. You take away his guns, and this golden boy is harmless."
He walks over to us and I"m staring up at him. He lifts my brother up and over his shoulder. He looks at me and says;
"Are you going to come or do I have to put you under too?"
I shake my head.
"Okay. Let's go. It's insanity out there and we don't have much time until they move to this street."
"What?"
"The war, princess. They're all fighting to the death out there-"
"But Anderson never made the call-He said they were waiting for a word from him-"
"No," Kenji says. "Anderson didn't make the call. Castle did."
"Juliette!" Someone comes running into the house. It's Kent. He grabs her and says; "You're okay—you're okay—"
"LET'S GO," Kenji barks for the final time. "I know this is an emotional moment or whatever, but we have to get our asses the hell out of here. I swear, Kent—"
He stops. Kent is on his knees, fear and pain run across his face.
"My father, this man is my father."
"What?" I try to say, but it barely comes out as a whisper.
"Shit, Shit shit, shit." He shifts Warner against his shoulders, wavers between being sensitive and being a soldier and says, "Adam, man, I'm sorry, but we really have to get out of here. Can one of you grab Y/n, please—"
I'm shaking.