57: Kiss of Death

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Roselle sat upright in a chair, her arms tied behind her. Even in a position of vulnerability, the confidence and poise she held herself in was unshakable. And behind her, Kyle. And Brook.

They were here.

We were finally here.

I wanted to leap into their arms, but I held onto Kyle's glimmering eye contact and Brook's beam and wink, and averted my focus onto the person that caused me so much pain this past year. There was still work to do.

"Roselle. Ready to admit defeat soon?"

"Oh honey. You think you're so clever, but we've had eyes on you for the longest time."

I laughed. "Bullshit. Your ways were always too brash and aggressive. Aunt Helen and I had you running around in circles these past months."

A flash of alarm passed over her face when I mentioned Aunt Helen. She didn't know until this moment. She couldn't figure out how I had such a strong support group, why her every move didn't go as planned, why the rebellion had so much information. It was all from the insider—the oldest member of the Shadow Legion was also the spy that would bring them down.

"Right about now, all the Shadow Legion members, including all members of the Scarlett family, are being herded into the various prison chambers in the basement. It will be uncomfortable for them for a while, but once they start to see the validity of our new ways, and they gain our trust, they'll be herded back into the organization. But by a different name, or rather, the original."

"Scarlett." She muttered under her breath. 

"Damn straight."

"You know what's ironic, Cassandra? The very thing you admonish me for? The violent, unethical ways? That was the very method your hero, your founder,  your inspiration and love of your life Sloane Scarlett used."

"This is why you can't be the leader of the Legion, Roselle. You think just because something worked once it will always work. That this key is one-size-fits-all. Things change, times change. In Sloane's time, the violence worked, because people weren't listening to the demands of the people in need. Now, we're creating more enemies than we can take them down, and we're headed for self-destruction. If my mother were the leader she'd never let this happen."

My comment seemed to trigger something, as her left eye twitched and a visible vein appeared on her temple. She let out a hysterical shout and her arms snapped around the seat. 

"Shit—" Brook gasped, and the door to my right slammed open. I saw a flash of dark hair and incredible blue eyes as Roselle aimed her gun high. There were yells, wide eyes, everyone getting in motion, and the deafening sound of a gun going off. Somebody flew in front of me, obstructing my vision temporarily. By the time my eyes could refocus, Roselle was pinned down to the chair again. 

Kyle darted to me, "Cass, are you okay?" I couldn't respond. I could only look at the sprawled body below me, blood oozing out into his graduate blazer.

I couldn't even whisper to myself, as words were caught in my throat. I ripped the lower half of his blazer off and pressed it against his wound to compress the bleeding. It seeped through the fabric almost immediately, and I instinctively started to fumble at my dress. My shaking hands clutched at the silky fabric, but it wouldn't shred.

"Someone give me some fucking fabric!" I frantically yelled, and Brook ran over to me and tossed me her jean jacket. I pressed it against his stomach where the bleeding just wouldn't stop. It had to have passed through him completely, there was blood pooling below him. There was just so much blood. And the color in his face was draining even quicker than the blood.

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