dedicated to fireblossomthedragon for the banner she made concerning your favorite word in the entire universe!
* * *
"Where do we go now?" Zen asked as we gathered in front of a Starbucks in the Dublin International airport. We were waiting for Minnie, who was glaring daggers at a business man dawdling in front of her. Though she found room to squeeze past him, she remained irked when she joined us, a frown etched on her lips as a lone traveler brushed roughly against her.
Zen repeated his question again, but this time, Sophia gave a response as she asked, "Don't we wait for Flynn Darkwood?" She looked to all of us, confused. "He's picking us up, why should we go anywhere?"
Minnie snorted as Zen gave a heavy sigh. "If only Flynn were that nice," he said.
Alec Darkwood may be a sarcastic, traitorous twerp but at least he knew when to use his manners. Flynn? I don't think the words "manners" and "being nice" existed in his universe.
Sophia looked extremely alarmed. "Where would we go? It's raining!"
No matter how much I wished that wasn't true--it was. I'd been hoping for a sunshiny weekend, filled with clear skies and a radiant sun because who wants to go seek revenge and destroy their enemies in crappy weather? Definitely not me.
Alas, the clouds were dark, drenching the city in rain. And would you look at that? Lightning and thunder. This trip was going to be fantastic.
People swarmed around us as we congregated to the side, accidentally bumping against our backpacks, their attention focused on either leaving or entering the terminals. There were tour and student groups passing by, their leaders holding up signs and barking instructions to stick close together. Families shoved on by, the kids groaning about jet lag, and couples on their honeymoon giggled as they waltzed past, hand in hand.
"Are you guys messing with me?" Sophia asked. The rain was leaving thick streaks across the airport windows.
"I wish we were," I answered. "If that boy found it funny enough, he would make us walk through this weather."
"Who can be that mean?"
"Flynn," the rest of us answered in unison, and I recalled the very first time Minnie had met Flynn and he had shoved her into a body of water without a warning in order to make sure that her kidnappers didn't see her with us.
I took another look at the storm raging on and voiced my opinion to take a seat and wait until Flynn arrived. Punctuality was never a problem among the Dragons, and Flynn, though a total jerk, was never a second early nor late. He would show up exactly at the time he promised he would.
However, after we bought ourselves some coffee and relaxed by the windows, I checked the time on Zen's watch while he was arguing with Minnie and saw that it had been twenty minutes since our flight had landed. Flynn was twenty minutes late.
I didn't want to worry my friends, especially Sophia, who was completely new to this field. Occasionally, I would glance at my phone, my fingers itching to text my concern to Archer or Flynn. Then I would remember that Archer had warned me against turning on my phone, because then anyone could track us easily. Though there could be eyes on us right now on the airport, the moment we turned on our phones, it would be as though a beacon was flaring with our every move. We couldn't communicate with the B team through public means either. Darkwood knew Archer and Elijah's numbers as well--if he could tap into our conversation, then we were in deep trouble.
Four hours and four coffees later, Flynn still hadn't shown. Now Zen and I were on our fifth batch, while Minnie doodled on her empty cup, and Sophia tried not to nod off. The rain was still coming down heavy, the drops splattering loudly on the windows, and my fingers curled around the sparrow necklace I wore.
"I think we should go search for him," I suggested as Zen finished off his drink.
"I think that's a terrible idea," Minnie shot down, giving me an incredulous look.
"We won't be able to get anywhere in this weather," Sophia chimed in.
Bless their cautious souls.
"I'm with the bird," Zen shrugged, flinching as thunder cracked through the sky. "We can't just sit here."
"Let's hail a cab and book a night at a hotel. Flynn could be in trouble, and we've got a timeline to stick to," I urged. Everyone was depending on us to carry out our part of the plan. The second day was coming to an end. With or without Flynn, I was seeing this through.
We got to our feet and after hauling our bags over our shoulders, we exited the airport. My friends followed me as we marched down wet pavements to find a taxi that wasn't already taken. It was a long task, but finally, a cab pulled up besides us and we scrambled in, with me in the passenger seat while everyone else crammed together in the back.
"Where to?" the driver asked in a deep voice with a Cimerian-Irish lilt that had me lifting my gaze up, wondering in utter disbelief if this bastard made us wait four hours just so he could fulfill his dreams of being a faux-taxi driver.
"Flynn!" three of us snapped, and I lunged towards him from my seat with every intention of strangling him. Unlike his punctuality, Flynn maintained his cobra-like reflexes. His hands came off the wheel to wrap around my wrists like steel cuffs. The silver family ring on his finger pressed against my bone.
"Sparrow, don't you know better than to distract your driver?" He clicked his tongue in disapproval, his jade eyes flashing in the darkness of the cab. "I'd hate to tell your brother that you all died in a car accident."
The last time I had seen Flynn, his hair had been a black curtain falling into his eyes, his bones jutting out from his skin. Now, the angles and features of his body were toned, and his hair--a dark red shade--was a tousled mess upon his head, pushed back by a pair of sunglasses. His eyes were the same ghostly jade as his brother's, but there was no guarded look about him. Instead, his gaze was alive with excitement, a gleam in them as sharp as a sword made for the wars of the world.
"You're not even driving," I scoffed, wrenching my hands away. I took off my sunglasses, seeing as how it was Flynn and not a stranger. "What are you doing here?"
"I thought it was my job to pick you up," he replied.
"Sorry, I forgot you were a technical smartass. I meant, why are you finally meeting us in a taxi rather than showing up on time using a normal car? How'd you even get this taxi?"
"So many questions," he said, pretending to sound overwhelmed. "You're giving me a headache, Sparrow. I won't be able to drive you in this storm if you keep talking."
"You won't be able to do anything if you don't give me a straight answer for once in your life."
He sighed. "And here I thought your big brother was the dramatic one." The line began to move and Flynn eagerly cut off another vehicle to move ahead in the line. "I'm sorry for being late," he began, sarcasm lacing his tone. "When I was heading towards the airport, I ran into a couple of guys that were following me. So, to make sure that they didn't come close to you, I decided to turn around and have some fun--"
"Please don't tell me you committed murder in broad daylight," Minnie said.
He glanced towards the backseat, grinning. "Ever the supportive tone, Minnie Mouse. And no, I didn't do it in broad daylight. You can't call this weather broad daylight. I prefer to say 'in broad darkness.'"
"You killed somebody on the streets?" Sophia squeaked, and in the rearview mirror, I could see her staring at Flynn with blue eyes popping out of her sockets as she recoiled in her seat.
"I'm kidding," Flynn snorted. "I killed them in an alleyway to avoid being arrested for homicide."
"Flynn," I interrupted and he laughed, glancing at Sophia in the mirror, his smile never fading.
"I'm seriously joking, Sophia," he said. "Maybe I did beat them unconscious and pushed their sleeping bodies into a ditch because they pissed me off, but I swear I'm not a homicidal maniac."
"I say that's up for debate," Zen said under his breath.
"Shut it, Li," Flynn called out. "Don't want to be terrorizing the newbie here, do we?"
"That option's gone out the door," I sighed. He laughed as he cut someone off again, ignoring the yell directed his way, but Flynn didn't have a care for such words. He continued on driving, his fingers drumming on the wheel until we were on the streets.
We all tried asking Flynn questions (except for Sophia, who paled every time Flynn spoke), but he was content with crescendoing the volume of his humming so that he blocked out our voices. The only true responses he gave was when he turned up the heater after our constant pestering for warmth, and when he confessed that he had persuaded the driver to grab something inside the airport before pick pocketing his keys and driving away with the taxi.
After what seemed like an eternity in the car, he pulled up to the curb and the locks clicked open. I took a quick glance outside. Flynn had parked besides an apartment building that I recognized to be his home. The last time I had been here, I had been fifteen and the weather had been a lot nicer.
"Aren't you coming with us?" I asked when I noticed that Flynn hadn't turned off the engine of the car. Instead, he pulled off the long string tucked around his neck and placed the object into my hand. Tied onto the string was a key.
"I have to find a place to ditch this cab," Flynn explained. "If you don't remember, my place is on the fifth floor, the one closest to the elevator." He folded my fingers over the string. "Don't open the door for anyone unless it's me. I'd hate to tell your brother you died because you couldn't grasp the concept of 'stranger danger.'
I nodded and got out of the car. "Bye, stranger," I sang, shutting the door.
"You can feed yourselves then," he replied without missing a beat before flooring it away from us.
We hurried into the building, drying our shoes as best as we could by the door before crowding into the elevator. I pressed the button for the fifth floor and half a minute later, the doors opened and we stepped off, stopping by the door closest to the elevator.
When I slid the key into the lock, the door opened with ease and we stepped in, feeling the warmth of his studio wash over us. A wave of memories flooded me as we headed further into the spacious apartment. Flynn was a minimalist, and three years had brought no change. There was a sleek black television facing the neat little kitchen by the door, and a black sofa was pushed against the wall by the windows of the apartment. It was a brightly lit place, but it was empty, lacking furnishing and decoration. Even the kitchen, spotless and tidy, carried only a coffee machine and a bag of chips on the counter. There were no dishes in the sink nor were there any in the black drying rack by the faucet.
Luckily for him, Flynn hadn't gone through with his plan of converting the floors to carpet, so our steps created puddles without deep stains. Our bags were tossed onto the ground and I dropped the key onto the kitchen counter while pulling off my jacket, spreading it on the only chair that was worn down by use.
"I thought Sevastian was frightening, but Flynn..." Sophia said in a small voice.
"Sevastian's straightforward," Minnie said as she opened a door that led to the bathroom. "Flynn, on the other hand, is both insane and an asshole. Dibs on the shower."
"What are you two talking about?" I said, feigning confusion. "Flynn and Sevasatian are absolutely wonderful and well-behaved people with lovely attitudes. I don't know what you're talking about."
"She sounds like she's kidding, but she can be exactly like them sometimes," Zen told Sophia, dodging the blow I attempted to throw at him.
By the time there was a knock on the door, everyone had showered and changed into something less wet. I made my way over to the entrance and made sure it was Flynn through the peephole before unlocking the door. He trailed puddles over his floor as he entered, water dripping off his clothes as though he had gone for a fully-clothed swim in the ocean.
"Get off the counter," he snapped at Zen. He glanced at Minnie, who was opening every cabinet in the kitchen. "What are you doing?"
She frowned at him. "There's no food."
"Isn't that too bad?" He stalked past us, and Sophia shrank against the wall as he brushed her shoulder while making his way towards his room. Zen, staring at the dirt and water on the floor, heaved a groan and hopped off the counter to grab the rag we had found earlier to mop up the mess.
Sophia came over to stand by me, staring at Flynn's closed door with curious eyes. "Is he really Alec's older brother? How come he doesn't seem worried about Alec? Or even upset?"
"They're half-brothers," I answered. "And deep down inside his shriveled heart, there's a speck of concern somewhere. He just doesn't like to shine a light on it."
"Half-brothers?" Sophia repeated, her eyebrows shooting up as she turned her head to stare at me. "How come I've never read about that?"
Zen made a soft shushing noise with his teeth, shaking his head at her. "You're not close enough to Flynn to bring it up around him. You may think he's mean now, but if you talk about his family, he will tear you to pieces."
"What do you--"
"My father liked to sleep around before he got married and he knocked a girl up without knowing he did so," answered Flynn, who was stepping out of his room, a black towel draped around his shoulders, dressed in torn jeans and a white t-shirt. "I was born out of wedlock. My father didn't want the family name to be tarnished for having a bastard nor did he want his first-born son to be shamed for being a bastard, so Fiona agreed to fake a pregnancy in order to lie to the world that I was also her first-born."
Sophia's jaw dropped as Flynn entered the kitchen and opened the fridge, taking out a bottle of orange juice. "I found out when I was twelve and I left. He tried to bring me back and used the help of the Fells to do so, but I found out from Archer that he had to reveal why I ran away in the first place to get their assistance. Naturally, the truth spread. Anything else you'd like to know?"
Flynn's words were casual, but there was a harsh edge to his tone, and when his jade eyes landed on Sophia, it was as though he was daring her to push him into a territory no one wanted to see him in.
He gave the truth with much less detail than he did when he told me. When I first learned the truth about Flynn Darkwood, it was when he had rescued me from a group of kidnappers in Belfast, Ireland. It was the third time I had been saved by him, and when I had finally asked him why he was always so ready to save me, he gave me his history, along with how much he regretted not speaking to his family one last time before the fire that supposedly ended all of them. He wanted to make sure that never happened to me.
"I'm sorry," Sophia whispered, twiddling with her fingers. "I didn't mean to pry."
"If you want to talk about me, then do it so I can hear you. I can appreciate a conversation about me, good or bad--just not when it's held behind my back," Flynn said, and the topic was quickly closed off after that. Minnie resumed her hunt for food, with Sophia joining along, while Flynn spun the bottle around on the counter, biting the inside of his cheek, so concentrated on his thoughts that he didn't say a word for ten minutes straight.
I began wondering how we would track Darkwood in this dismal weather. With the rain pouring outside, another image of Logan appeared in mind, a picture of him cold, broken, alone. Was this how he felt whenever I ran off? Were these the thoughts that kept intruding in his mind whenever he had a second to think every moment I was gone?
"Don't you think Flynn was nicer when he had black hair? It's like every time he dyes his hair, he gets ruder," Zen mused as he leaned against the spot right besides me. When I met Zen's eyes, I saw a pool of worry in them as he wrapped his hand around mine and gave it a squeeze.
"I think there's a code in the Darkwood clan that goes along the line of, 'Thou shalt not dye thine hair some ridiculous color that could potentially shame the Darkwood clan,' so Flynn's deeply rooted nationalism gets a bit injured when he breaks the code," I said.
"At least I don't look like a fire-hydrant," Flynn shot, glowering at Zen.
"I'm supposed to resemble Peter Pan, you uncultured heathen."
"Say that again, you Weasley-wannabe."
"It's like a nerd battle in here," Minnie coughed loudly. Then she got on the tip of her toes before stepping back from the cabinet, holding up an orange square packet. "In your entire apartment, there's only one packet of ramen?"
Flynn abruptly got onto the island and tried to reach across the sink to snatch the item out of Minnie's hand, but Zen was faster, seizing the packet before Flynn could. "You told me to get off the counter earlier!"
"Like Minnie so graciously stated, this is my apartment. The rules don't apply to me. Also, that ramen isn't meant for you, it's meant for me."
I took the packet from Zen and tossed it back to Minnie, gesturing towards the stove. "Do you think five people can share a packet of noodles?"
"If three of us decide not to eat it, sure."
Flynn made an irritated noise and got off his chair, making his way around the island. As he passed by Zen and me, Zen had the guts to stick his leg out just as Flynn's foot lifted, causing the older Darkwood to stumble.
Everyone fell silent and watched while Flynn sucked in a sharp breath and cocked his head at Zen, a single brow raised. Zen could only laugh nervously before saying, "I was just testing if the rules of gravity didn't apply as well. I apologize for my behavior, Flynn, I shouldn't have done that." His voice leapt a pitch with every syllable.
Flynn only nodded in a satisfied manner at Zen's apology before resuming his stride over to the cabinet underneath the sink. He pulled out a small box and threw out three different packets of ramen before taking the one Minnie had in her grip and stuffing it back in the cabinet. Minnie grinned and began filling a large pot with water before turning on the flames at the stove.
It was soon discovered, regrettably, that even with three servings of ramen, only two of us got to eat because Zen and Flynn entered a contest of "Who Can Eat the Most Noodles Without Sharing Because We're Assholes."
After the two of them finished off the pot with ease, Flynn, avoiding my fork, pushed the topic away from how to hide his and Zen's bodies and towards the subject of finding Logan and Darkwood. As he discussed the possibilities and his plan for finding them, I noticed how he said "my brother" without a trace of anger or betrayal.
Does he still believe that Darkwood can be saved? I thought, wondering if Flynn was still holding onto the last family member he had left. Unlike the majority of us, who refused to call the younger Darkwood by his first name, Flynn persisted on calling him his brother.
It was past midnight and Flynn was planning the roles he'd have each of us in after we found Darkwood when Sophia, who had been so quiet during the discussion, fell asleep on the table, slumped over her arms.
Sophia's sleepiness had Flynn up on his feet, barking at us all to get as much rest as we could because the next few days were going to be long ones. He carried Sophia into the guest bedroom, with Minnie volunteering to take the daybed. Zen shuffled into Flynn's room, but before he closed the door, his hand brushed against my arm and he gave me a smile.
"We're almost there, Park," he said encouragingly. "We'll get Logan back soon."
After wishing me a good night's sleep, he shut the door and I began pulling out several blankets and pillows from the closet next to Flynn's room. My hand lingered on a dark red quilt with the Sparrow crest knit into the corner that I recognized to be Archer's possession, for it had been a gift from our grandfather. Three years had changed quite a bit, I realized--the guest room had become Archer's room, hadn't it?
Flynn was in the kitchen, brewing something with his back turned to me. The television was now on, a movie playing on the screen without a sound and I dumped everything onto the sofa, collapsing on top of it all as I looked up to the ceiling. The lights began to dim as Flynn moved about the apartment and when I heard water boiling in the kitchen, the apartment turned dark, leaving the movie the only source of brightness.
The same red quilt from earlier, slightly frayed at the ends, was suddenly draped over my body and my eyes trailed Flynn as he perched on the edge of the sofa. He handed me a black mug, the content of which was white tea and honey.
"When did you become so nice?" I asked after I took a slow sip.
"You know me: the best Samaritan you will ever know," he joked. Then he beckoned his head towards his bedroom. "There's a daybed in my room as well. I'll make Zen sleep on it and you can take the bed. Archer will kill me if I'm not taking care of his precious little sister. Or if you want, you can share Archer's old bed with Sophia."
"Ah, so you're just trying to impress my brother."
"He pays half the rent of this place still, of course I have to do what he wants," Flynn grumbled, but as the light flashed on his face, I saw a grin on his lips. Though Flynn had always complained whenever he rescued me, I used to think of him as an older sibling. I never pictured him as Archer's replacement, but there was something about his behavior that gave him an oddly familial vibe.
He's a brother at heart, I thought.
"I never got to say thank you," said Flynn in a soft voice. "For giving Alec a family when it should've been me doing that."
"It didn't do much," I said, my lips pressed against the mouth of the cup. "He still ended up back where he started."
"I have to hold on to hope, Park. He's all I've got left in this world. I have to protect him, even if he doesn't want me to."
I finished my tea and I cupped the mug in my lap with my , watching the movie with disinterest. Would Flynn hate me if he knew the threat I made to his brother? I thought, my finger drawing circles on the surface of the cup.
"We'll get them back, Park," Flynn said after a while, getting up, his hand gently squeezing my shoulder. "Your prodigy boy and my brother. We'll save them both."
Flynn walked to his room, closing the door softly, and I could faintly hear him chewing out Zen for taking the bed. A thud followed and I laughed knowing that Zen had most likely been pushed off the mattress.
I settled into the couch, curling up in the blankets and pillows surrounding me, my eyes closing as I watched the television cast dancing shadows on the walls. My heart was still beating fast as I thought about what would be coming in a few days. Time was short and I needed to find Logan, but being in this apartment renewed my sense of faith in myself. All those years ago, I had worked alongside Flynn, Iris, Sevastian, Zen, and Minnie. I had done these sorts of things countless of times. I'd watched Iris pull on a pair of heels, later using them to knock out five people. I'd seen Sevastian twirl a knife in his hand before he threw it with such precision that he pinned a man against a wall. I'd seen Flynn corrupt an entire database within minutes--
I sat up, a memory flooding my mind as the triggers were set off. I had stood in Flynn's apartment, looking over his shoulder as he destroyed the system that had been set up to throw us off of Minnie's trail. I remembered him explaining to me that anyone who tried to come near his work would be told to go back, watching as he showed me the message that he created.
The same message that decorated any of Alec Darkwood's files.
I have to protect him, even if he doesn't want me to.
Was Flynn an enemy as well? Or was he just doing his best to make sure that even after all of this, his brother still had the chance to save his own skin?
* * *
The next day, Flynn decided to take me on a much needed grocery trip. My trust in him had been greatly shaken, but my trust in my own brother had won out. Archer wouldn't have left me in Flynn's care if he, for a single second, doubted Flynn's loyalty. I had also volunteered to leave with Flynn, just to make sure that if anything did happen, I could keep his attention focused on me and not on my friends.
I was in the processed foods aisle, comparing two different cans of ravioli. From what I could see, the only difference between the two were the brands--everything else was exactly the same, from the ingredients to the amount of calories. So why was one can more expensive than the other?
"Little bird. Shorty. Princess Public Area for Families and Children."
If Flynn had an 'ignore' button, I'd have slammed it so hard that he'd never be able to open his mouth again. He wasn't being much help with the food whatsoever. Instead, he was leaning against the shelves, poking my arm and whispering ridiculous nicknames at me.
"Princess Merida," he sang, now tugging on my hair.
"What?" I groaned at last, turning to him and lowering my sunglasses. "If you don't mind, I'm trying to make sure our group doesn't starve."
"Food can wait," Flynn said in a dismissive manner. His language altered over to Cimerian. "Do you see that guy behind you?"
As covertly as I could, I turned my head to the side to catch a glimpse of whoever Flynn was talking about. I saw him--a hooded figure running his fingers over the surfaces of the jars of tomato sauce. His black sweatshirt seemed damp from the drizzle outside, but as he moved his arm, one of the sleeves fell down to his elbow.
A black design was inked onto his skin, and my memory fell in place as I recognized the sharp angles and vine-like image that wrapped around his olive-toned forearm.
Sunglass Dude. We meet again.
Sure enough, when the guy turned his head, he wore shades upon his face and the image was strikingly identical to that of the man who had shot Logan all those months ago. He glanced down at his forearm before hastily pulling the sleeve up. Flynn raised a brow and his hand rested upon my shoulder before he guided me out of the aisle, a composed look about him as we left the grocery store.
The rain trickled down my cheeks as it fell gently. After walking for a long while, I became soaked by the weather while Flynn continued to push us on the unspoken journey, his grip on my shoulder unrelenting. He didn't say a single word. We then turned into an alleyway and Flynn flattened us against the brick walls.
Is this where Flynn betrays me, too? my mind thought as my body tensed for a fight. My thoughts echoed the conversation that the younger Darkwood had held with his partner in crime back in Cimeria during Christmas. They too had been in an alleyway, but this time, droplets of rain stained my jacket, not snow.
Several minutes ticked on, and finally, the hooded figure from the grocery store turned the corner. Flynn didn't waste a second lunging towards him, and before I could even blink, he had an arm around the stranger's neck, a hand clamped against the man's mouth as the guy struggled ferociously against Flynn's grip.
Flynn suddenly let out a startled cry as the guy bit down on his palm and Flynn's strength faltered. In that moment, the man threw off Flynn's arms and charged towards me. I blocked his first blow, but the second punch was a quick right hook that sent me stumbling back, pain throbbing in my jaw.
Flynn was in front of him, a look of uncontrollable rage flickering on his features before it faded and a superior gleam flashed in his cold eyes before he had our stranger on the ground with a punch to the face and a kick to the chest. The man howled in agony as he clutched his nose. When he moved his hand, I saw blood collecting at his chin.
"You don't hit the princess of Cimeria," Flynn said in a deadly tone, "especially not in front of me." He knelt down and plucked the sunglasses off of the stranger's face.
The man's features were bony, with sunken cheekbones and hollow dark eyes that leered at us with anger. I didn't recognize him, but apparently, Flynn did. The older Darkwood seized the collar of the man's sweatshirt and hauled him to his feet, shaking him violently.
"You!" Flynn snarled, his composed nature vanishing, a storm reverberating in his tone that made me take a step back. Flynn made a feral noise in the back of his throat as he tossed the man back onto the puddles of the floor, splashing dirty water everywhere.
"Who is he?" I asked Flynn, watching as the man coughed and groaned as he tried to sit up. Flynn slammed his sneaker on top of the guy's chest.
"How about you tell her?" Flynn suggested in a dark voice. "Tell her. Tell her or else you're not living to see tomorrow."
"Please don't kill me!" the man begged, scrambling away from Flynn, backing up against the wall. "Please, I'm sorry! I'm not the one you want, I'm only working for her because she promised me money!"
"Liar," Flynn seethed, surging forward but I stepped in, my palm spread out against his chest as I pushed him back.
"What's your name?" I asked the man. What kind of crime did one have to commit to invoke such a fury within Flynn Darkwood?
"It's Jonathan," the man answered, stuttering over those two short words.
"Tell her what you've done, Jonathan," Flynn sneered, and I had to push him back again to make sure that he didn't knock Jonathan out cold before we got anywhere with him.
Jonathan didn't answer at first. He simply stared at me, his hand still pressed down on his nose. Then, he drew his hand away to reveal a sickening grin. "I'm the guy your brother shot eight years ago."
I sucked in a breath, his words sinking beneath my skin. Eight years ago, he was the cause of my brother's horror for committing a sin. He was the loss of my brother's childhood, his family, his title. He was the reason I didn't have anyone telling me bedside stories on Christmas night. He took it all away from me.
My vision was red and something dark, something unspeakable coursed through my veins. My fingers were digging so deeply into my palms that I had broken the skin and I stepped back, taking in the pride within his voice, the smile that told me he didn't care that he tore my brother away from his family.
"You're here to follow me. To make sure that I'm alone. Then you're supposed to report back to wherever you cowards are hiding to tell them that I'm not by myself, right?" I guessed.
He didn't answer. It wasn't until Flynn punched him in his gut did he sputter, "Fine, fine, you're right. I'm the one who decides whether or not Logan Cross gets to live out his last four days or not."
His words were a bargain, and they were meant to strike fear. Yet all that streamed through my body was outrage at the fact that he had the gall to play with someone's life like that--again.
"Where are you keeping him?" I asked, taking a step closer.
"Like I would tell you," he spat.
Flynn's response was instantaneous. Jonathan took on the role of a pathetic punching bag as Flynn's fist sank itself into Jonathan's hollow cheeks. As though he was dragging a rag doll, he pulled Jonathan to his feet and shoved him against the brick wall.
"Have a little respect," Flynn growled. "I'm not sure you're aware of the situation you're in. The boy whose life you ruined all those years ago happens to be my best friend--and his little sister is standing right by me. Tell us where everyone is or I'll make sure that surgery won't be able to bring your pretty little face back."
"You can't make me give anything up!" Jonathan proclaimed. "I'd rather die than betray my cause!"
"That can be easily arranged," Flynn said. Jonathan paled, his bulging eyes widening some more as Flynn leaned in, his smile growing with a viciousness behind it.
"You wouldn't," Jonathan stuttered, though the confidence was quickly draining from his voice. "I'm not afraid of you. You guys are weak. You don't have the conviction to hurt me, why should I tell you anything when you're all--"
Flynn let out a long and loud sigh, seeming exasperated--bored, even--with Jonathan. "Listen here, amigo," he began. "I'm an impatient guy with a violent streak. Lots of things make me snap. I've been standing in the rain for over ten minutes, I'm sopping wet because of it, and I'm currently talking to the guy that's been evading Archer Sparrow and me for years. Do you honestly think you have a chance to bluff your way out of this? You will tell us where they are is or I swear to the gods, I will end your life right here and now and I'll toss your broken body into the river."
Yeah, somehow, I don't think the possibility of Flynn being a traitor even existed at this point.
"You're not going to talk?" pressed Flynn after no words fell from Jonathan's mouth. He proceeded to fish a switchblade from his jeans, and with a flick of his wrist, the knife winked underneath the rain. "I'll make you talk."
"No, no, please, I'll tell you!" Jonathan panicked, squirming against the wall. Gone was his bravado and arrogance, and in their place was outright fear.
"They're in an abandoned mansion in Easkey. It's by a river, that's all I know!" he whimpered, his eyes bouncing from Flynn to me with dread clear in his gaze.
"I knew there was a reason I carried this around," Flynn grinned. "Why do I repress my violent urges?"
"Because sanity and control, Flynn, are some things you really need to work on," I said to him. Then I turned to Jonathan. "What's your full name?"
"I already told you," he snapped, though he thrashed against the wall when Flynn's smirk transformed into a monstrous smile and he lowered the knife again.
"Tell her your name, lad, or else your injuries might be grave enough that you'll never remember it again."
"J-Jonathan Oliver Fi-Fields," he stammered, his eyes crossing as Flynn pressed the blade against the base of Jonathan's neck.
"Let's throw this trash into a cell," I said, something different, stronger than ever before pulsing through me. "So what if they know I have help? I doubt this woman you all follow won't have the guts to kill Logan if she never had the guts to kill me. Isn't that right? She had to hire others to get the job done because she couldn't stand getting her hands dirty."
My voice grew more confident. "Call the Dragons, Flynn. We've got a location."
Flynn nodded, grinning ear to ear now, and he pulled Jonathan forwards while I took out my phone and turned it on, preparing to call XYZ and alert them of a target that I needed to be brought into base.
"You have no idea what you're getting yourself into," Jonathan snarled as my phone turned on.
I looked at him. These people had done everything they could to ruin my life, and each time I managed to thwart them. I was ready to end this once and for all, and as the rain dripped down my face, I knew that I was ready to fight whoever it was in my way. I would protect my family, the crowd, my friends, Logan. The fear and doubt that I had built over the past few months began to ebb away with the rainfall.
"I'm Park Sparrow," I said. "You have no idea the trouble I'm about to bring down upon everyone who's ever made a move against me."
* * *
I am literally pushing back homework and a study session for a calc test to release this chapter--I am a terrible student, damn.
anyway--I will be entering this story in the watty awards because for once in my life, IPY has made the deadline for such a thing! wish me luck guys, and if you all could help me out with this one thing--
if you have heard of the people's choice awards for the watty awards--fantastic--if you haven't, it's where you all head on twitter and tweet a link to your favorite story on wattpad with the hashtag #MyWattysChoice from August 24th to August 31st. If you'd like to participate, please do so and if not, eh, it's okay, just wish me luck then.
Thank you all so much for still helping this story move forward in 2k15--thank you thank you, knee!