27. Frey

TWENTY-SEVEN

FREY

Lights, camera, and action.

Father craved the spotlight, but now that I find myself stepping into the limelight, I don't feel the same thrill. Instead, my words tumble out of me, stammered and hesitant. Gosh, I feel like a high school student again, forced to give a speech in front of the whole class.

Or, in this case, the whole world.

In comparison, my voice barely rises above a whisper, but as the seconds tick by, the nerves diminish. The things I say start to sound more and more assured. Confident. In a trembling voice, I lay out everything, from Hale's death to my father's grand plans for the city. Even I can admit that it sounds insane, and when I finally get the signal from Jamie to stop, I don't know how I feel.

Perhaps, despite everything, I feel stupid. Who would believe me over a powerful politician with so much to lose?

I don't know.

But, I know enough to savor the small miracles when they occur. If the building was due to explode, then it should have happened already. Right? What that means for us, exactly? I'm not sure, but as Jamie flashes a thumbs-up, I hope it's a good sign.

"Okay. That's a wrap," he says next, rising from his computer. "Our signal's been jammed, but I think we did our part here. Besides, we probably have about five minutes before the SWAT team comes bursting in. I don't know where your boyfriend's gone off to, though."

I follow his gaze to the door. Daze isn't in the hallway. My heart sinks. There are only a handful of reasons I can think of for why he might leave.

None of them good.

I rush to the door and don't find him near the stairwell, either. "Where did he?—"

A loud sound cuts me off, coming from below. My heart sinks as I recognize it instantly—a gunshot.

"Oh, fuck," Jamie mutters. "We should be careful—wait!"

I barely hear him. I'm already taking off through the double doors and tearing down the stairs. Besides that gunshot, nothing else fazes me. No shouting. No fighting. Nothing.

Daze…

Desperation to find him consumes me to the point that, as I round the counter and race into the lobby, I don't realize what I'm seeing at first. My eyes latch onto Daze first, slumped against the front desk with his left leg outstretched. Thank God, his eyes are open—he's alive. I rush forward only to stop short as my eyes process another chilling component of the scene before me.

Standing beside Daze, casually holding a gun to his head, is Silas.

"You have perfect timing," he says, spotting me with a rabid smile. He looks dressed to kill—literally. The black leather jacket and dark-wash jeans seem tailored to blend into the shadows. Perfect for fading into the background as the chaos of several booming eruptions rocked the city.

"Princess," he says to me. "I wanted you to watch me blow his brains out, just as promised." He adjusts his grip on the gun, and I swear my heart stops beating. My mind flashes ahead, visualizing Daze dead and broken. I move fully on autopilot when I step forward, drawing Silas' notice, but my voice is surprisingly clear.

"Wait. That wasn't all you promised."

"Oh, is that so?" Silas smirks. "What am I missing?"

"Frey, don't," Daze warns, his voice tight. Pained. "Just get the fuck out of here?—"

"You promised that you'd make him recount what happened to Renna," I say. "In excruciating detail is how I think you put it."

"Ah…" He bares his teeth. "You're right. But—uh-uh—you can keep your ass right over there!" He aims the gun my way, and I freeze. This isn't the first time I've been faced with such a weapon, but I don't feel the fear that I should. With my focus on Daze, all I can think about is saving his life.

No matter the cost.

"Now, where were we? Oh, right—" Silas kicks Daze hard in his shoulder, leaving him doubled over from the pain. "Tell her all about how you fucked my sister over."

"I cared about Renna," Daze says, his eyes finding mine. "But I didn't love her. I couldn't then."

"And I'm sure you told her that before you knocked her up," Silas snarls, striking Daze with his fist.

"I don't regret being with her, or having Sam," Daze says. "But I won't lie. I know what it feels like to love, and what I felt for her… That wasn't it."

My heart is constricted, and I can barely breathe. Meeting Daze's gaze, somehow, I'm not as afraid as I should be.

"It wouldn't be fair to her to lie," Daze continues, gritting his teeth against the pain. "And I won't do that?—"

"Bullshit!" Silas moves to strike him again, and I lunge, grabbing for this hand. For the gun. My heart is pounding in my chest as he easily overpowers me, slamming a hand into my chest, wrenching the gun away—but then I take a page from Daze's book.

I make myself go limp right when Silas tenses to yank me aside. The shift in momentum knocks him off balance, and in a beautiful, fluid motion, Daze rises beside me and snatches the gun from his grasp.

We're at an impasse—a tangled mass of frozen limbs.

Then Daze aims the weapon toward Silas' head and my first instinct is to tell him no.

He can't. Can't…

His finger tenses.

Silas laughs.

I…

I say nothing, even as he finally pulls the trigger.