TOP OF THE ROCK

☆ | 18.0

☆

"WHAT'S WRONG?" she coos, cocking her head to the side like he always did when he thought he had her figured out. One inch. Calculated. Blue. That was always his fucking weakness. "Mmm. I bet you didn't see this one coming, baby."

Surprisingly, Blue snickers. The gun grinds against her forehead, a renewed threat in the subtle gesture. "Claws? Atom? C'mon, baby, I could take all three of you down right now."

"I doubt that."

It comes from behind her—heels clicking, jewelry clicking, a gun clicking. This bitch came prepared.

Her lips twitch. "You're outnumbered."

"Drop the gun, Blue," Claws says, a sharp warning in her voice. "Drop the gun. Now."

Those blue eyes flicker away from her, and she doesn't bother to follow, knowing that Claws has her gun pointed at Blue. Trust. It's something her and Blue never could grasp.

Instead, she focuses on the lull of conversation, a strand of the last-minute plan that they'd concocted just a week ago, unraveling to her side. Atom approaches Cadillac swiftly, but quietly, spewing the rest of the directions that will help them get this star out of the city... in a million fucking pieces.

"We'll drop it," she explains from the other side of the crane, pointing to the garbage barge beside the pier. "I'll let you know when you're lined up."

"You're going to destroy it," Blue murmurs almost wistfully. Understanding dawns in his eyes as he glances up at the glittering star, flushed cheeks and parted lips. His hand wavers; his breathing hitches. "No, you're... you're going to—"

"Shatter it."

Slowly, so fucking slowly, Blue swivels to meet her gaze. "You're going to fucking destroy it."

"Mmm." She shrugs. "Some people just want to destroy beautiful things."

"Don't."

Her fingers curl into fists, and her nails bite into her palms. There's a sharp command in his voice that drives her to the brink of insanity. Somehow, even after being crossed, or double-crossed, or whatever the fuck this was, Blue still thinks he can order her around. "Blue," she grinds his name out angrily. "They're not listening to you anymore."

A wave of cold air whistles along the coast, lashing and biting and stinging her cheeks; it tosses too many loose strands of hair up between her and Blue, separating them for a millisecond, and in that millisecond, everything spirals.

Cadillac starts the crane, and she takes a step back, and Blue... Blue staggers away from her with a gasp, limbs locked, panic flaring in his eyes, gaze flitting back to that lethally beautiful star. "No..."

"Blue," Claws warns. "Don't move."

But he does.

Blue is... lost in something, shaking his head, dropping this hand, staring, staring, staring, as Cadillac guides the star over the edge of the pier to the barge. Behind her, beside her, beneath her, the world hums in anticipation of the destruction. It was never about the crystals, or the money, or the escape for Blue. It was about stealing something beautiful, and fuck, this was going to burn.

This was why she wanted him here.

"No," he mutters. "No, I..."

A mess of emotions jumble together in her throat. Something about the stark desperation, that vulnerable plea in his voice, sickens her. Blue is supposed to always be... calm, cool, collected; Blue is supposed to be careless.