finger at his chest. “What about now, huh? This is your answer, to hurt people? Just to prove a point?” I shake my head, wiping my face. “It’s wrong, and you know it.”
For just a second, his resolve cracks, arms lowering as Bridgette’s toes touch the ground. He blinks, as if he were just waking up from a nightmare, face softening ever so slightly. Sadness swirls behind his eyes as he says, “I had to do something. I had to take a stand.”
“But not like this,” I reply.
He closes the gap between us, two-hundred-plus pounds of solid wrath hovering over me, a giant vein pulsing in his neck. “And what would you have done, huh?” he screams, hot breath burning my cheeks. “If one day everything you loved was suddenly gone, pulled from under your feet with no warning?”
“You mean like today?” I yell back with equal force. Bridgette’s desperate eyes plead with me to back away, to let this go, but I can’t. It’s too late. “Like when I found out that one of the only people on this planet I trust with my entire life is rotten? Life as I knew it is over! FOREVER!” And the moment I say it, I know it’s true. This isn’t just about ending Siege; it’s the end of this chapter in my life. How could I go on with Warrior Nation after experiencing this? After this loss? I can’t just pretend it never happened; I would think of this moment every time I walked through HQ’s doors, every time I looked into Joy’s beautiful blue eyes. And that’s not fair to anyone, least of all me.
No, it’s over. I’ll have to find a different way, a different purpose. There’s no coming back from this.
“You destroyed everything I believe in.” Salty tears lace my words as I add, “I can no longer call you my hero.”
I know I’m just a blip on his radar, one of the thousands he saved. But this is the arrow that pierces his heart. Everything suddenly moves in slow motion and he stumbles back, finally releasing his grip on Bridgette as his strong, proud body seemingly folds in on itself in shame. I drop to her side as the Warrior crew charges, taking him on ten to one. For a second, it’s like he’s forgotten who he is, refusing to defend himself, but a blow to the head snaps him back into action, and he begins throwing jabs left and right, effortlessly picking off the defense unit.
But this is not his best fight. I know his style, the way his body moves, and it’s clear his heart is not in this one. There’s no pow behind his punches, no passion in his attack. His raw strength still manages to keep the team from easily defeating him, but it’s only a matter of time.
I help Bridgette crawl off to safety, her bruised throat still gasping. The Warrior team starts to thin, their guns useless against Siege’s bulletproof body. He launches himself into the sky, his power of flight halting the battle below, until one of the only Warriors left shoots a bolas at Siege’s ankle, the weighted weapon pulling him back to the ground. The remaining unit pushes Charles down, and there’s lots of shouting and yelling as bodies crowd the space to apprehend their criminal. Frightened onlookers either cover their faces or take pictures from the sidelines.
I don’t even realize I’ve been holding my breath until I see Siege apprehended, hands cuffed behind his back with superpower-neutralizing cuffs. “It’s over,” I tell Bridgette, who is lying on the grass with her eyes closed. “They’re going to make him tell us where he’s keeping Matt and Joy.”
“Good,” she rasps, wincing in pain.
The team drags Siege toward our van, but before he’s gone forever, our eyes lock, his steely gaze glazing over as his head hangs low.
It’s a look that haunts me, chills me to the core. A look that says I’m sorry.
I failed you.
Even heroes make mistakes.
But I won’t show him any sympathy; I have none to give. Even though we stopped him, this is not a victory. Seeing my hero dragged away in disgrace has left me hollow, scooped empty and questioning everything I’ve ever known.
As we pack up to leave, I look south down the lakeshore, spotting the North Avenue boathouse, where my summer began. Was it only a few short weeks ago that I first met Joy, that I slid down a tunnel that was