Aimee Carter - Pawn

“I’m afraid that isn’t an option,” said Augusta. “However, since you’ve made your decision, I will happily oblige.”

All the air left my lungs. Benjy stood still as a statue, and I silently willed him to run. “Please,” I begged Augusta, desperation clawing at me. “You can’t.”

“Oh yes, my darling, I can,” said Augusta. “Perhaps now you will understand just how powerless you truly are.”

Suddenly the world around me seemed to move in slow motion. Augusta aimed, and Benjy flinched, but everything was sluggish, as if time had slowed down to give me a moment to decide what to do.

My mind was made up. All I needed was that extra second. I pulled the gun from my holster and raised it. I didn’t need to know how to aim properly in order to line up the barrel with her body and pull the trigger.

And I did.

Over and over and over again, until only a faint click remained.

In the back of my mind, I heard shouts and the thunder of footsteps. I felt hands on me and tried to shake them off, but when Benjy wrapped his arms around me, I stopped, limp in his embrace, and I dropped the gun.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Knox and Greyson carry Lila toward the door, and I heard more shouts as a dozen guards rushed in. The sound of Knox’s voice filled the room as he issued orders, and the guards went from outraged to determined as they produced a stretcher seemingly out of nowhere and carried Lila away.

But the only thing I understood was Augusta’s bullet-riddled body lying in a pool of blood that slowly expanded, staining the white carpet crimson.

Benjy refused to let go of me as Knox led us down to the infirmary. Greyson stayed with the handful of guards that remained in the room to deal with Augusta’s body, but there was still no sign of Celia. I couldn’t find it in me to care. Everything seemed fuzzy, and the only things anchoring me to reality were the feel of Benjy’s arms around me and the sound of Knox’s footsteps beside me.

I’d killed her. One moment she was alive and talking, and the next she was dead, all because of me. I knew I’d had no real choice. If I hadn’t, Benjy and Lila would both be dead, but that didn’t stop the guilt from hemorrhaging through me.

When we reached the infirmary, Benjy set me down in a chair and pulled up another so he could sit beside me. By the time I looked up, Knox was gone. I didn’t see where he went, but there was only one place to go: Lila’s bedside.

Benjy didn’t say a word, and I was grateful for the silence. He rubbed slow circles on my back, and I struggled to forget the image of Augusta lying dead on the carpet. Instead I tried to remember what Benjy’s face had looked like when she’d been moments away from killing him.

It didn’t help.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. He stroked my hair rhythmically, and for a moment I pretended we were back in the group home and none of this had ever happened. It was just him and me, and the Harts were in a completely different universe.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said. “You did what you had to do. Just—in the future, don’t risk your life doing it, all right?”

I tried to smile, but my chin trembled. “I should—I should never have left you and gone with Tabs. I only went to the club because I wanted to stay with you.”

My voice cracked, and Benjy nuzzled the top of my head. “I know,” he murmured. “You did the best you could with what you had.”

I didn’t deserve him. Burying my face in his chest, I let his shirt soak up the tears leaking from my eyes. “I’m sorry for everything with Knox, too.”

Benjy snorted. “I told him if he touched you again, I’d—”

He stopped, and I knew what he was going to say. He’d kill him. It wasn’t a joke anymore, though.

“Listen, Kitty,” he said, pulling back enough to look me in the eye. “I won’t pretend to be all right with everything that’s been done to you, but I know you didn’t ask for any of it. Lila’s engaged to Knox, and you can’t—you can’t still be her and not be. So—I get that. But you don’t have to be her anymore. We’ll get to leave now, and everything will be okay. We can go someplace where no one will find us.”

My fingers tightened around his. I’d been preparing to die ever since I’d injected that drug into Daxton’s veins, and the possibility of surviving this—I’d given up hope. But in that moment, after everything that had happened that day, I let myself believe Benjy. Celia and Knox and Greyson would allow me to walk away from this, and no one would ever know that Kitty Doe hadn’t died after all. Benjy and I would find a place by the beach, and we would be happy. And neither of us would ever have to see another Hart again.

“That would be nice,” I whispered, and Benjy smiled and wrapped his arms around me once more.

A faint sound caught my attention. Four guards rolled a stretcher down the hallway, and I frowned. Who else was hurt?

As they came closer, however, I saw the black body bag lying across it, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away. The points of her shoes formed a tent at the end of the bag, and even though it hid her features, I knew exactly what was underneath the thick plastic.

Augusta, dead and full of bullets I’d put in her.

Greyson followed the stretcher, looking as pale as I felt. His hands were stained with blood.

“Greyson?” I said. Instead of answering, he winced and looked away.

Something inside me snapped. I couldn’t breathe, and what little I’d eaten in the past day threatened to come up. I pushed myself away from Benjy and stumbled down the corridor. I couldn’t take Greyson’s anger, too. Not on top of everything else.

“Kitty!” called Benjy, his shoes squeaking against the tiled floor as he darted after me. I didn’t stop. Instead I ducked through the nearest door and slammed it shut, enclosing myself in darkness.

In the background, machines beeped and colorful lights blinked, but everything else was black. I took a deep breath. It wasn’t my fault. Greyson had to know that. Everyone had to know that. Augusta had forced my hand. If I could go back—

If I could go back, I would have done the exact same thing. Augusta had made her choice, and so had I. As much as the consequences hurt, at least I could live with them. I would have died in more ways than one tonight if I’d let Augusta lay a finger on Benjy. Greyson was grieving for his family, and he needed time. Even if he never came around, even if he never wanted to see me again, I could only be thankful I wasn’t grieving for mine.

Slowly I calmed myself down, one breath at a time. Once my head stopped spinning, I groped around the wall and flipped on the lights, blinking against the brightness.

As soon as my eyes adjusted, my stomach dropped to my knees. This was Daxton’s room. He lay on the bed, and Celia sat in the chair beside him, her gun dangling from the tips of her fingers.

“Celia?” I said, her name catching in my throat. She didn’t acknowledge me. Instead she stared at Daxton blankly, as if she didn’t even see him. But I did.

His eyes were open.

“Daxton?” I said. He was watching Celia, but when I spoke, he focused on me.

“Lila?” he said weakly, his voice hoarse with disuse.

Lila. He thought I was Lila. But he’d been in a coma since before Lila had returned, and if he thought I was her, then—

Did he remember she was dead? Did he remember I’d been Masked? Or had he been awake longer, and did he know about Lila returning?

At last Celia stirred. “Is that you?” she said, her eyes bloodshot as they searched my face. “I saw them carrying you into the trauma ward, but I thought it might not be you, and I didn’t know for sure—”