and return it with a fiery one of my own. “You reject the concept of kindness and love because hate is an easier option. It’s more constant. Love is hard. It fluctuates. It’s erratic and unreliable. It takes work you are all too fucking lazy to put in because you’re too busy living your life as fucking monsters.”
“That doesn’t sound very educational. Are those the exact words you’re going to use in your paper?”
I don’t answer because there will never be a finished paper. Not anymore.
“And you think Pike is better than me?”
My eyes widen.
“Yeah, I know about the two of you, but I’ve already told you I suspected as much. Don’t deny it. I know Pike. You’d be dead otherwise.” He flexes his knuckles. “You don’t think that he’s taken a life out of anger? Because if you think the answer is no, you’d be wrong. He has. What makes one monster different from another?” He tilts his head like he’s not just asking this as a rhetorical question, but as if he actually wants to know the answer.
So, I tell him.
“Love isn’t perfect, and neither is Pike. But, at least, his anger is productive. It fuels the actions that he carries out in defense of his business, and to protect those he’s loyal to. It’s not misplaced, like yours, or a product of believing in a truth that isn’t based in logic or fact. His violence may not be right either, but it’s validated. It’s a reaction. And unlike you, he doesn’t provoke. His goals aren’t to cause chaos or hurt innocent people. He doesn’t act out of ignorance or blatant racism. You want to know what the difference is between monsters? One lurks in the dark and only comes out when necessary; the other puts on a costume and parades about like they’re in some kind of pageant, putting on a show for the world to see. To fear. But then again, it probably makes it a lot easier to hate people if you make them hate you first.”
Percy searches my eyes, for what I’m not exactly sure. Maybe, he’s just seeing me for the first time for who and what I really am. In his eyes, a traitor. I hold my breath, waiting for a blow, a decision, a death sentence to be dealt.
I’m surprised when he steps away instead. “So, little Michaela Lovejoy finally decided to grow some balls,” he muses.
“What are you going to do to me?” I ask, my chest heaving my muscles clenched in fear.
“Oh Mickey,” he chuckles, before suddenly stepping back. He tosses my notebook on the bed and smiles, opening his arms wide. “I’m going to join you.”
“Join me?” I ask, rubbing my wrists. “Join me in what?” I ask, swallowing hard. This is the end. I’ve been found out. There will be no going back from this moment.
“You know what.” Percy spins around the room, arms stretched out, pointing to the walls and then the ceiling. He smirks. “In bringing it all down.”
In every prank show, there’s a moment where the person being pranked stands there silent and stunned, unsure of what exactly is going on, how to proceed, what’s real and what’s not.
That’s the moment I’m living in. I have no idea how I got to it or what really just happened. Did Percy just ask to join me in taking down the Fourth Reich?
The seconds pass, moving in slow motion. If this is a prank, it’s a pretty shitty one, at least for me. Percy and Darius are the most manipulative men alive. I’m not about to confess everything and get myself killed before I’ve had a chance to carry out my plans. No, I’m keeping my cards close to my chest, out of view, in case this is some sort of trick or a test. That’s it. I’ll think of it as a test.
I’m good at those. Tests are my jam.
A’s all the way, baby.
“Uh, Percy?” I start, giving him my best I don’t know what you’re talking about face. “Bringing what down? What do you think I’ve got planned?” I’m playing dumb. Well, at the very least, ignorant. I may have just admitted to being with Pike but I’m not about to admit that I have a plan to take down the organization he was born into.
“Playing dumb ain’t gonna work on me, Mickey. I know how smart you are, and I know what you’re planning,” he insists.
Fuck.
“Did someone put something in your head, and