Chapter 39
Deacon staggers backwards, clutching his jaw.
"What the fuck?!" I scream, abandoning Tane and running towards them, my feet stumbling over the broken concrete scattered.
Vera has a satisfied smirk on her face as Hollis shakes out her hand. Deacon meets my eyes, confusion written on his face as he retreats from Hollis.
"Someone better explain to me what is going on right now! Why are you here? Why are any of you here?!" I'm yelling, waving around my arm with the gun, like a maniac.
"I followed your sister and brother out here," Hollis mutters, and then she lunges towards Deacon again; like she'd love nothing more than to rip him apart.
I stand in front of him protectively, as Vera wraps her arm around Hollis' middle, pulling her backwards.
Vera nuzzles into Hollis' neck, placing a chaste kiss there, and whispering something before turning back to me.
My eyebrows nearly fly into my hairline, and Vera chuckles.
"Hollis....? How do you...?" I stammer, my brain misfiring.
Hollis sighs, and straightens herself.
"She's my girlfriend," she answers, throwing a casual thumb in Vera's direction, "and I'm one of the legion."
She points back at Tane, who gripes something like, "Told you I wasn't Vera's type," under his breath, his arms folded now as he leans against the concrete building. Content to let Hollis tell her story.
"I was placed in Strayton to keep defectors in check, and keep to an eye on... well, you."
I shake my head. "No, that can't be true. We... grew up together." As I say it—I question myself—my memories of her untangling from themselves.
"Did we? When did we meet Maple?" she asks, a knowing look on her face.
"I came when you were barely going to school anymore, but we never actually went together.
I looked young enough, and everyone's memory was so foggy, no one questioned my arrival.
People were still coming and going frequently at that point so it didn't raise suspicion. "
She's right, I realize, I don't actually have memories of her in our classes as a child. She was just there suddenly, and I was either too distracted or hazy to notice.
"I was placed in Strayton to keep you safe. Which was near impossible, because you refused to get close to anyone," she sneers at Deacon now with malice. "Mostly because that cockroach kept you like a pet."
Slowly I turn to Deacon, ready for him to jump in with his own confusion, to counter with a more logical explanation. But his face is oddly blank, cold.
"What...?"
"Deacon is an informant, Maple. He's the man who sold his putrid soul to the Council, along with everyone else in his family," she pauses, a look of sympathy softening her eyes.
"Any valuable information he's ever gotten, he relays directly to them.
Selling everyone out. He was giving the government intelligence before he had facial hair.
.. He was the one who incriminated your dad. "
I'm still shaking my head as I look between them. Pleading for Deacon to deny it; to fight her, to tell her it's not true. Instead, he stands there, staring blankly.
"Deacon... tell her that isn't true," I beg him.
I recognize that I sound pathetic, pleading with my best friend to tell me he didn't ruin my life.
He won't look at me. His copper eyes are locked on Hollis as panic creeps its way up my body.
Puzzle pieces that I've refused to place all these years start settling into their rightful spots.
The dots I've refused to connect out of sheer stubbornness.
Slowly, Deacon turns to looks at me—there's no regret, no pleading for forgiveness or remorse on his face.
"I did what I had to do to keep everyone safe. To keep you safe," his voice falters with his declaration.
Memories flash through my mind. A clock ticking backwards with every time I had felt that tug in my gut that something wasn't right, and ignored it.
His family suddenly ostracizing me when we were children.
Tick.
My dad vanishing.
Tick.
Our dorm room being sacked—Farra being interrogated.
Tick.
Captain Kethlers timely arrival when we opened the door to the artillery.
Tick.
Deacon's hesitation, his easy submission to them.
Tick.
Berkley.
Boom.
The remaining walls keeping the neatly packed parcels of darkness inside me, all crumble down. There are no barriers to keep it in anymore. All I feel is a gaping hole, and I let it implode.
I'm nails, and teeth, and fury. I don't even see who pulls me off Deacon. They catch one of my elbows on the side of the head, but I can't stop and I don't hear what anyone says.
I'm left heaving on the ground; nausea mixing with unrelenting memories and a fury I can't tame.
Fresh blood sits under my fingernails. Tears blur my eyes as a dark figure hovers in front of me.
I don't fight him when he slips his arm under my knees and my back—effortlessly scooping me up off the ground.
Tane's scent washes over me, soothing me slightly, and I take my first full breath in minutes, maybe my first full breath since I left that hall.
I'm aware I'm crying, tears mixing with blood, dust, and despair.
Tane carries me far enough away that we can't see or hear the others.
I should run to warn the rest of the crew, or save Tarius, or something, but I can't bring myself to do anything.
He places me on the ground, with such gentleness it makes my heart ache. He kneels silently to my level, opening his canteen and pours some water on my hands. He then rips the arm off his shirt, wetting the material. He motions to my hands, a silent question, and I nod.
Slowly, almost reverently, he washes away some of the grime on my skin. My hands, my face, my neck.
"Deacon is an informant. Along with his father and several other family members.
Hollis was placed there to watch them, and you–– the Treows in general, actually, became her objective," he explains as he wipes the grime off me, speaking gently.
"Hollis is part of my Legion, so technically, the Council placed her in the region. "
I must frown, because he goes on.
"Rebels, Maple. We were working with your dad—or technically, the people your dad worked with—there's a network," he continues.
"Defectors...?" I ask stupidly, needing confirmation.
"Rebels, defectors, the resistance, revolutionists. Everyone whispers different things. We've yet to land on a catchy name," he says with the faintest uptick of his lips.
"But you've been..." I start, but I'm not even sure where the thought goes.
"Yes, I've been working both sides. We all have," he answers quietly, studying my face.
"You've killed people, your own people then."
His hands drop away from mine, and the utter deflation that passes over his face makes me feel bad for even saying it out loud, but it's true. Tane and his legion have made a name for themselves by being the government's faithful, vicious soldiers.
Which means Tane's been slaughtering his own people.
"I have done unforgivable things. I am not innocent, or good, Maple. I have so much blood on my hands..." He pauses, no doubt remembering the night on the roof.
His devastation that night suddenly makes sense. Indignation claws its way through all the feelings of betrayal, because maybe he didn't sell me out like Deacon, but I still can't trust him. Or any of them, for that matter. I pull back, leaning away from him.
"I need to go."
Tane looks as if he might argue, instead he gives me space.
I walk through the group. I can feel Deacon's eyes burning into me—I don't look at him—I don't trust myself.
"Let's go. Time for a family meeting," I mutter, making eye contact with Hollis. She gives me a nod, and the rest follow.
I walk into our sleeping camp, my limbs feeling heavy.
"Wake up," I command loudly, dipping down and running my hand over Willow's sleepy face.
The twins fly up first, alarmed, seeing that our numbers have somehow grown—putting them immediately in fight mode.
"What's going on?!" One of them demands.
Farra is the next one to leap to my side. Panic blasting through her eyes as she takes a look at Deacon bound behind Vera.
"Calm down. We have a lot to talk about," I peer over at the newcomers. "Everyone needs to have a seat, and our new "friends" are going to tell us everything."
"We are?" Lachlan questions, his one blonde eyebrow lifting up.
"You are—because I am tired of all the secrets, and half-truths. You're going to tell us everything, or we're going to have a problem," I square my shoulders, somehow looking down at the legionary who usually towers over me.
He looks at Tane, who gives a subtle nod of approval.
Linden and Willow are dazed from sleep, but noting the bloody and tied up Deacon, they both rush over to him. I put my hand out, stopping them.
"What are you doing?! Deacon's hurt!" Willow looks at me, like I'm the one who's betrayed her.
Pain spears my chest, because I know this is going to break her. Destroy that last bit of childhood left intact that I wanted so badly for her to hold on to.
"Hollis!? Maple, what in the underworld is going on?!" Linden demands, trying again to get around me to help Deacon.
"Deacon is an informant…" I begin, but my words die in my throat at Willow's stunned expression.
"No, he's..." Linden starts, but he must see something in Deacon's emotionless gaze because he stops, his shoulders pulling back like he's been slapped.
"He's been selling us out. For how long— I have no idea, it's all been a lie," I look at Farra. "I'm sure it's why Kethler was suspicious, and why you were interrogated. He must have seen the plant, or guessed we had something. He... he sold out Dad too," I look around at the shocked faces.
Something snaps Deacon out of his haze as he stumbles towards us.