Powerless

She opens her mouth, probably to tell me I’m crazy, to spout another lie. But then she just sighs. After a heavy silence, she shakes her head. “Dante would never have hurt you. I swear. He doesn’t have it in him.”

 

 

I want to throw up. “You don’t know that.”

 

“I do. I know him. I love him, Kenna. I really love him. He’d never hurt anyone, certainly not you. He knows you’re my best friend.”

 

Best friend? That’s a joke. “You sent them there tonight. You knew I would be there, and you sent them anyway—without even giving me a heads-up. Why? Because you knew I couldn’t fight back!”

 

“I didn’t!” she insists. “You said you were so tired last night that I thought you were going to go home early. That’s the only reason I told them it was okay.”

 

I don’t know if I believe her, but I can’t dwell on that right now. Not when there are more important things to talk about. Like what motivated her to help supervillains break into the superhero lab, and the fact that her father would have her arrested—would have her tried for treason—if he knew what she’d done.

 

Not to mention how my best friend, the person I trust most in the entire world, the one person who has always treated me as something more than ordinary, could betray me like this.

 

Rebel’s the only person I’ve ever been able to be completely honest with, and I thought it was the same with her. It hurts to find out I was wrong. Not only has Rebel been keeping at least one major secret from me, she all but served me up on a platter to Dante and his friends.

 

Maybe she believes they wouldn’t hurt me, but she wasn’t there when Dante suggested kidnapping me like it was a perfectly reasonable idea. She wasn’t there when Nitro was throwing fireballs at me. Yes, I have immunity, but only from superpowers. All three of those boys are bigger than I am, and if they’d decided to kidnap me—to hurt me—no fire extinguisher in the world would have been able to stop them.

 

I rub a hand across my tired eyes and take a deep breath as I try to sort out my thoughts. “How long have you been with him?” I ask.

 

“Six months.”

 

I sputter. “Six months? How could you hide this for six months?”

 

“It’s not like that.”

 

“Not like what?” I spit. “Not like you’re dating a villain? Not like you’re snuggling up with our sworn enemies? Not like you’ve been lying to me for half a year?”

 

“That’s the whole thing,” she says. “It’s not like that. They’re not our enemies.”

 

“Are you joking? They nearly killed me tonight.” An exaggeration, but she doesn’t know that.

 

“But they didn’t,” she points out, as if that makes it all okay. “They wouldn’t. They aren’t bad guys.”

 

Who is this girl standing before me? She looks like my best friend. But my best friend would never knowingly consort with a villain. The daughter of the most powerful superhero would never date the enemy—even to get back at her father.

 

At least, the girl I thought was my best friend would never do that.

 

A night alone in my empty house is looking better and better. “I’m out of here.”

 

“Kenna, wait.” She grabs my arm before I can walk away. “You have no idea what’s going on. There is next-level shit happening at the lab.”

 

“Yeah, I know,” I snap, yanking my arm out of her grasp. “My best friend is giving a team of villains complete access.”

 

“Dante’s brother is missing.”

 

I shrug. “So? What’s that have to do with the lab?” But even as I say it, I remember them talking about finding some guy named Deacon.

 

“He was kidnapped,” she insists. “Taken by the superhero goon squad that my dad and his douche-nozzle cronies work so hard to keep secret. They’re best friends, closer than close. Dante’s been a mess since Deacon went missing.”

 

“And he’s being held in the lab? Just where do you think they’re keeping him?” I hope that injecting some logic into the conversation will make her see how crazy she sounds. “It’s not like they’re hiding prisoners in the janitor’s closet.”

 

“No, they’re sneakier than that.” She scrubs a hand over her hair. “They probably took him to the secret level.”

 

Ugh. Again with the secret level? I work in that lab, have for years, and my mom is their top researcher, yet never before tonight have I heard about a super-secret level. The whole thing is absurd. Too many really smart people work in the lab for her dad to keep something that big a secret.

 

It’s like she’s been brainwashed.

 

“Seriously, Rebel? Listen to yourself. Secret goon squads? Secret lab levels?” She sounds more like my conspiracy-loving ex. And she knows better than anyone that his never-ending paranoia killed our relationship. “Have you been hanging out with Jeremy again?”

 

“Believe me or don’t. But all those things are happening.”

 

Before she can say another word, I grab my purse off the floor and start to storm out of her room. But she’s been my friend for too long to just leave it like this, no matter how tired or angry I am.

 

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