Till Deceived Do We Part

Deep breaths were what kept me from swerving off the road. I suppose slowing down would have helped, but for some reason, that thought didn’t even flitter into my mind.

I was positive that the scum bag would deliver the message, but what was bugging me was, what would I do when he did? If Lincoln did phone... what was my brilliant plan? What could I do, to get Zane out of his grip as fast as I could? All were wonderful questions, but unfortunately, I’ve never been the type of girl that sits around and answers questions. One of my flaws.

I could see the base now. And usually when it came into view, it struck a chord inside. Well, it did again. However, usually I felt safe and relieved to be home, but now I felt fear. Fear for being home. The main cause of that fear being Jake. I didn’t want to face him anymore.

I parked the car slowly, but my fists remained tight on the wheel. I didn’t want to get out of the car. I just wanted to turn away and drive. Just drive away, and leave everything behind me. Start fresh, create a new Andrayka Angiol... I just wanted to do something. Something, anything, preferably something that didn’t include remembering about Zane’s disappearance.

A jolt of pain ran through me, causing me to close my eyes tightly. Zane couldn’t die, he couldn’t! The pain soon turned into rage and I lashed out on the wheel with my good arm. Immediate pain hit me, but once again, I turned it into rage. I hit the wheel again, this time not feeling a thing. I let out a scream of frustration and hit it again. And again. And again.

My chest heaved, trying to gain air, as I sat there panting. Tears were too close to my eyes for my liking, and I pushed them back. I would not cry. I wouldn’t! I tried to change my emotional pain into rage also, but this time, it didn’t work. For once, it didn’t work, and all I managed to change it into was despair; desperation. What great replacements.

“You done?” I jumped, snapping my eyes to the window. Flint stood, his arms crossed. He was waiting, and I was sure he saw my whole performance. But who cared? I didn’t, not anymore. Which showed just how crappy I was feeling.

I shoved the door open, causing Flint to move, but his eyes remained on me the whole time.

“You missed the meeting.” It was said with anger and venom, lying undercurrent to his so called ‘calm’ composure. I saw it, heard it, but didn’t believe it. We both knew what was going to happen, so really, what was the point of missing it? I suppose it was one of those moments where all the tops are to stand together and unite to show everyone in the base that everything was okay, but really? My mind was saying screw it, so my body followed those thoughts. Flint, however, went the other way. He went willingly to the meeting, and he was going to go willingly to the safe haven. That was something I never would, or could, do.

I shouldered past him, ignoring the glare that was trying to penetrate my skin. Nothing could shake me now, for I was already shaken. So he could give it a rest.

“Two hours.” Don’t bite. Don’t bite. He was waving information in front of my face, wanting a rise, trying to get me to bite. And truth was, I wanted to. I really wanted to, but I didn’t. He, however, didn’t relent. Did I really think he would? I kept walking, trying to think of anything but him. But I didn't have many other thoughts that I wished to actually dwell on, so I opted to making my mind blank. Worked fairly well, until Flint blocked the front door.

"Jake doesn't want to enforce this, but he doesn't have a choice. We both have to go, and in two hours." Ah, so that was what he meant. Not that I was any happier knowing.

"Don't forget to pack your binky." I said, trying to step around him. His face hardened.

"This isn't easy for either of u-" That did it. That small statement toppled my control, and before I could stop it, my fist flung out. Flint wasn't expecting it, heck, I wasn't expecting it, so it landed squarely on his jaw. His head snapped to the side, but I didn't care. Enough was enough.

"Shut up Flint! Just shut the hell up!" I yelled, my body imposing his personal bubble. But I didn't care, and I was beginning to think I didn't care about anything anymore. "You don't care a damn about me! We both know it, so stop lying! You don't care nearly as much for Zane as I do, so shut up! Just shut up!" My voice echoed off the walls, and for a moment, when my echoing screams died away, all was quiet. Flint's head, still turned from my hit, slowly righted itself. This time, I was caught unexpected.

His fist hit my chin, but with more force, a lot more. My body stumbled back, but I didn't give him time to strike me again. Instead, I went for him. It was expected this time, so he dodged it and lunged. His body, having a lot more weight, took mine down. My back slammed against the cement steps, and we both rolled.

I kicked out, hoping to hit anything, not bothering to play fair. If I kicked him in the groin? Who cared? If I kicked him in the head and knocked out a couple of teeth, who cared? I was sick of playing fair, and I was sick of Flint. He didn't know a damn thing, and I was sick of him acting like it. I was sick of watching him look so composed and so in-tact as he followed Jake's every whim. I was just sick of it all!

What did he know? He didn't know what it was like to have your whole life ripped away from you at a young age, and grow up in an entirely different world. He didn't know what it was like to be the only one of your sex that could actually keep up to the men. He didn't know the meaning of ostracization, and he certainly didn't know what it was like to feel in love, yet have to hide it. He just didn't know, and I was sick of him trying to stay in control.

There was no control. The base was going down. We were screwed, and everyone was as good as dead. I knew it, and accepted it, wanting to act on it. He, however, ignored it, and was choosing to run. To run away and hope the problem go away, which never works. This problem would chase us.

Lincoln and Dalton hadn't been silent all of those years, oh no. They had been planning, scouting. What may look like random attacks weren't, and I got that now. This was calculated down to what time they went to bed. It was planned, and if we ran? I would bet my life on the line that they would chase. They hadn't planned so long, so hard, and gotten so far, just to have two of their targets get off the hook. No, it wasn't over until they had us, or we killed them. And I knew that. Flint knew it, but wasn't accepting it. This was the reason why I knew Lincoln would call me. He needed me, craved me. Because no one liked an unfinished hit, and I personally knew the distaste of it.

My kick didn't hit either of those intended targets, but it did hit his shin. We rolled off the last stair, his arms griping mine tightly. The world was spinning, but I didn't care. I lashed out with my arms, but he slammed them down against the cement. So my next move, I actually thought about. As his fist raised and slammed down into my face, I wrapped my legs, which he hadn't bothered to pin, around his waist. By the time he realized what I was doing, it was too late. I shifted my weight and flipped us, before he could use his weight as an anchor.

I yanked my arms free, and with my legs still wrapped around him-which is a lot less sexual than it sounds-slammed my fist down into his face. His arms went up to protect his face, so I slammed my fist down in his stomach. He let out a small gasp, the only indication that it hurt, before pushing his hands against my shoulders. I reeled back, trying to avoid it, but he gave one last shove and I was off, legs wrapped around him be damned. They came with me, and I didn't even think before I rolled, his body landing right where I had been a second ago. He lunged again, and this time I didn't think, I just pulled it out.

His body froze immediately, his face only centimetres away from the nuzzle of my gun. His eyes raised slowly to mine; my cold, hate filled, eyes.

Both our chests were heaving, and I cautiously made my way to my feet, the gun still practically in his face. He remained on his feet, un-moving. For he saw it too, saw the hatred in my eyes. He saw that for once, I may actually shoot him.

"Drake." He said, one word. One syllable. It barely made my ears, though.

"You don't know a damn thing," I growled, my body shaking from my pent of anger. You'd think the fight would have released me of most of it, but it didn't.

"Drake, put down the gun." I said nothing, my mind working over time. I tried to think, to think this situation out throughly, but I couldn't. All I could see was Zane. All I could see was his pain, which in turn, was my pain. I wanted him back. I needed him back.

"Andrayka?" My side vision got him, but I didn't turn. My pulse sped, and I could hear my heart hammering. No! I was panicking, I had to calm down.

Jake made sure to stay in my vision, knowing that I couldn't handle much right now. Knowing I was at my weak point, which shocked me. Had he been watching me so closely? Did he really know me that well? I had always thought so, but lately... lately I had my doubts.

"Take a deep breath. Slowly." I don't know why, but I followed his instructions, and felt a huge pressure lift off me. Had I been holding my breath? Why? And when? "Good. Now, look at me." His voice was calm, drilling, and my body urged myself to look, but I didn't. My eyes remained glued on Flint who was standing very still. "Drake? Look at me. You're not thinking clearly."

"I'm thinking fine," I whispered, but he heard it anyways.

"Care to elaborate?"

"No." That caused him to pause.

"How was your night with Dane?" That took me by surprise, and while I'm sure he had a good chance to lunge at me, he didn't. He remained where he was, and waited. Which also shocked me. At the thought of Dane, some of my anger dissipated.

"Good." I murmured, not sure why I answered. I was doing as he wanted. He was manipulating me, but I didn't seem to care.

"Good? I'm sure it was better than that." And it was, and the thoughts made more of my anger disappear. Ah, so that was what he was at. I had to give him credit, it was a smart idea. Only, I wasn't so far gone that I didn't realize he was playing me. The only thing that stopped me from calling him on it, was the fact that he was waiting for me to put down the gun, and wasn't trying to wrestle it from me.

"It was. Doesn't dismiss the fact Zane is still gone." That got another pause from him. Score for me.

"No, it doesn't. But would Zane want you killing Flint?" Ouch. I ignored the sting.

"No, and I'm sure he wouldn't want you sending me away."

"He'd want you safe, Drake. You and I both know that."

"He's not here, though, is he?" I continued before Jake could start. "And whose fault is that? Lincoln and Dalton should have been taken care of, damn it! And I will not let Zane die because of your screw up." That was low. Very low, and while some guilt racked me, it wasn't nearly enough to cause me to take back my words. If I had known about them, I would have done something. I would have acted, and not let them scheme this whole thing together! I would have prevented it.

"It is my fault. I take full responsibility, and I know his death will be on my shoulders." I winced at that. He wasn't going to die! "But I will not let yours, or Flint's, also be on them. You're my responsibility." My eyes closed briefly before re-opening. Neither of them had moved. I swallowed, licked my lips, then spit out the words that tasted horrible on my tongue.

"What if I left the base? I wouldn't be your responsibility." And that equalled his third paused.

"No matter what you do, you'll still be my responsibility. I saved you, I raised you, therefore, my responsibility."

"I'm not a kid anymore." He raised an eyebrow and glanced at the gun.

"Could have fooled me." My grip on it tightened. "End this, Drake. None of us need it."

"A day." It came out before I could stop myself.

"Excuse me?"

"One day. Give me one day to fix this all. One day, and if I can't... if I don't... I'll go. Quietly." I was an expert at making Jake pause today.

"Seven hours. Not a day."

"A day."

"Seven hours."

"Twelve hours. Half a day."

"Put down the gun?"

"Agree first." He smiled at that.

"Twelve hours, then you're both gone. No more."

"No less." I added in, earning another small smile from him. He walked toward me now as I lowered the gun. Flint shifted his feet, his eyes narrowed at me.

"Good. Now get inside." Before I could protest, he had his gun out. "Research in your room, pace, phone contacts, but you're staying in the base. You never specified, Drake. And pack, while you're in there."