Trying To Heal

Chapter Fourty-Two

April

The conference room vacates. Derek dithers, darting concern and curiosity at my direction. The door seals at his absence, resulting in just Tanner and me. A coldness lurks in the landscapes of the island and Atlantic ocean. There is a rabble of Mediators on the harbour — in short-sleeved uniforms, shorts and slippers —, watching an aircraft carrier calmly prancing the waters as it closes in. It is flabbergasting to apprehend how a woman has created this ... this ... this empire. She has an army, a navy, an airforce, and so much more. Notwithstanding she is dead, she somehow shivers her loyalists in pride and fear.

There must be someone to protect the innocent. There must be someone to punish the wrong. And there must be someone who does both.

Tanner is in a hoodie, jogging shorts, ankle-socks and trainers. "We — particularly Derek — have been wanting to expose the elites since we were born. Now that is likely to happen, and it is bizarre. For a second, I thought Luke would find you proposition ridiculous, but he listened to you. Maybe it is a good thing to have you join us."

"I haven't joined," I said. "I have a question — if you wanted to expose the truth, why have you not tried?"

"We have. Samuel has. Then Alexandra's life was threatened as a warning from the Families." His smile is tight and sardonic. "Even the powerful has their limits. Sometimes, if we want to fight, it must take decades for that fire to fuel the blast. It has to build up on its' own. Like with the Industry — they want to get rid of poverty permanently, and they are close to that success. They simply need more time to have enough money to assist to save each soul. Sometimes, we get worried if we could lose."

"You won't lose if you come forward."

His tight smile gets smaller.

"We will win." The promise is genuine, because I am sure of it. We will win this fuckery. "We have to lose once in a while for victory."

His veined hands are bare, and he caresses a finger as if he is a fiddling a ring. "You are not mad at Derek, are you?"

"No."

"Then why do I feel this tension between you two? Is it because he did not tell you what happened to him?"

"No." I sighed. "I just wished you would."

"Derek asked Bodie and me not to tell anyone, April."

"No, I don't mean that. Out of everyone, you're my best friend, Tan. You didn't have to tell me what the actual reason was, but I wished you could have, I don't know, steered me away from the girls." I lower onto a chair. "I mean, no wonder people in that school hated me. I must have looked like a hypocrite and a fool."

Tanner fidgets another finger. He never had to tell me what my ex-friends did to his best friend. But Tanner is my best friend, too, and I simply wished he could have saved me the horrible cost of losing myself. I could have gotten it over and done with.

"I was looking out for you. You had a lot of shit you were dealing with, too."

"Who cares?" I retort, my tone louder. "Who cares what I went through?"

His gaze softens. "I care."

"No, you didn't." I strike to my feet. "If you did, you could have told me what the girls were like. You could have told me what you truly thought of Roy. Maybe I was right all along — maybe I am exactly like them."

Suddenly, his dark eyes hardened into anger. It was such a quick transformation, that it causes me to visibly cower and nearly stumble onto the chair. "Can you stop putting yourself down like that? It is fucking draining." My heart clamors at his tone. "You are not like them. If you were, I would have hated you and called you a bitch every time I see you. But I do not. You are much better than those girls."