A Hero in the Dark: 2nd Edition

Chapter 30: Let Me Go

I leave the letter on the bed, patting the bunny one more time before telling her not to follow me.

It's quiet down the halls, and dark. I tiptoe as quietly as I can to the Lecture Hall to grab a gun off the shelf; a pistol should be enough—not that I'll really get the opportunity to use it. I grab a combat knife too, just in case, and strap it to my waist, then make my way to the elevator, where I push the button and wait until it opens with a ding.

Nine's parking garage is filled row after row with expensive cars—or... I guess it was Sandor's. Nine was right: His Cêpan did have quite a hobby.

I near the driver side of a silver four-seater; it's probably the least flashy one here. Mom drives one just like it, except hers is less rusty. I settle into the driver seat and grip the wheel at nine and three. I won't deny; I'm more than a little nervous. I need to drive across two and a half states in twenty-three hours' time without getting stopped by police. I take a deep breath. "I can do this." But as soon as I turn the key in the ignition, Nine's standing in the beams of the headlights.

He looks disappointed, to say the least. How the hell did he know I was down here?!

He stares at me and makes a one-handed swiping motion at the side of his neck. I turn back the key. He's at my door in no time. "Hand it over," he says.

"Nine, you don't understand."

"'Course I don't. C'mon. Keys." He twirls them on his index finger before putting them away in his pocket then shuts the door. I sit still—frozen—least 'till the passenger door swings open and he settles in. "Ella said she saw you sneak into the elevator. You want to tell me what you're doing?" I say nothing and shake my head. "Why on earth would you want to go back there?"

"I don't want to go back there!" I cry.

"Then what are you doing?" I don't want to tell him anything more. I don't want to talk. I tell him to drop it and get out of the car, and almost as soon as I do, he gets out with me and slams the door closed. "Come on, Emily. Talk to me," he pleads, stopping me with a hand on my shoulder.

"What's the point? You won't even understand! You have no idea what I went through in there or how bad it is now; all you know is beating up bad guys. You don't know what it's like to lose and you don't even care!" I take a breath. "You want to know what I'm doing?! I'm trying to get him to stop messing with my head! But you won't even let me do that!" A sob jumps out of my chest that, for the life of me, I can't hide. "I want it to stop, Nine. I want to have some sense of control, and the second I think I can have that, you come along to screw it all up!"

Nine crosses his arms over his chest. "Ok, first, ouch, Em. Second, going back there won't make any of your nightmares and shit go away."

"You don't know that."

"Uh, yeah, I do. Em, you're basically going on a suicide mission."

I hold my breath. "So what if I am?"

He gapes, however momentarily, then takes me by the elbow and sits me down on the hood of the car. "Seriously, Emily? Let me explain something: Going back now... it's not helping you; it's helping him. You might think it's the right thing, but it's not. Whatever nightmares you keep seeing, they're all just ways of manipulating you. I mean, what do you think will happen if you do crawl back to him? You think Setrákus Ra is some guru that will magically erase everything he did to you? You think he'll kiss your ass and apologize?" He doesn't give me time to answer; it's rhetorical, and I know Nine is right. Everything he's saying now... he makes a good point. "He won't. He doesn't give a flying fuck about how you feel. He did what he did for a reason. He won't take that back no matter how much you beg him to, so going back... it's out of the question. The best thing you can do now is work on your super dope Legacy and kick his ass."

As great as that sounds though, he's still missing one crucial part. "And what about the nightmares?" I ask. "How do you suppose I make them stop?"

He scoffs at me, which honestly wasn't the reaction I wanted. Maybe it does sound silly and childlike, but they're very real—way too real—and I don't want to deal with it forever. "Em, there comes a time in every Garde's life where they gotta stop worrying about that stuff like a scared little kid and show those fucktards how tough they are." Easy for you to say.

I roll my eyes. "That's not exactly helpful," I say. "And it doesn't answer the question."

He waves this off, like it doesn't matter anyway. "Question-schmestion," he says. "Look, there's only one way I know how to get rid of dreams, and that's to get out of your head. What do you say you put that gun and knife back and we do some morning sparring in the Lecture Hall?"