Why Can't I Hate You?

~36~

Jorge flew us back to the city. After leaving Newt to succumb to the virus, I expected to be sad, heartbroken even. To fall to my feet and break down in utter agony, feeling pity for myself that I had just lost the one person I loved most in the world. But I didn't, because I wasn't sad. 

Every bone in my body was seething with rage. 

I knew exactly who to blame for this, and I knew exactly what I was going to do about it. Even if I ended up dead in the process, at least I would be leaving a bullet in his head. He wants battle? I'll give him fucking war.

I went back into the building to find Gally sat in the chair in front of Teresa, removing his tag. He pressed some wet paper towels on the back of his neck and turned to see me. "Just in time, Y/n, you're up next."

Reluctantly, I sat down in the chair Gally was in, making sure my hair was out of the way.

"So, did you find him?" Thomas pulled out a chair, sitting down.

I avoided his gaze. "Yes."

"And?"

Air filled my lungs as I took a deep breath. I looked up at him and slowly shook my head. He understood.

"I tried. He just wouldn't come. " The words burned my toungue. But I'm going to evenge him. I'm going to make sure Janson gets what he deserves. I didn't say it out loud, but I thought it.

I winced at the pain on my neck, as Teresa worked at it to get my tag out. Nothing could hurt more than the pain I felt leaving Newt behind in the crank palace.

"I'm sorry about Newt." Teresa spoke.

"What can I say, Wicked ruins lives."

I felt her hesitate, and I knew I hit a nerve. But I didn't care. She should feel guilty. A pinch in my neck made me groan as she removed the tag. Handing me a wet paper towel. I got up to walk away.

"Y/n."

I paused, looking back at her.

"I really am sorry. For everything."

"Sorry, can't fix everything."

She looked like she wanted to cry. I couldn't think why. She had been living in luxury for the past six months.

"One day, you'll understand that you have to make sacrifices to protect the people you care about. Even if it means betraying them."

"Like Minho?" I scowled."Like Chuck, and Jeff and Newt?"

She went silent, and I scoffed, feeling the corners of my mouth turn up in a repulsed smile. Leaving her there, I went to get dressed in my wicked uniform. The plans had been quickly changed because Newt was gone.

I didn't like the word gone. He wasn't gone yet, I knew exactly where he was. But by the time we got Minho out of wicked, he would be gone. At least the Newt I knew would be.