“And if his security system alerts them first?” I ask.
“That’s what I’m here for,” Jeremy says. He’s trying not to show it, but I’m pretty sure he’s as concerned about this idea as I am. “I cracked into the lab’s mainframe. You think I can’t hack Riley’s home security system? I’d be insulted if I knew you weren’t just being Kenna—looking at every angle of the situation.”
“How many angles are there?” Rebel demands. “We’re out of options. Unless we find out where they’re holding Deacon, it’s game over. He’s as good as dead.”
Dante sags as if he can’t handle the weight on his shoulders for one minute longer.
I know exactly how he feels. That, more than anything else, has me saying, “Maybe you’re right. If we can get to Riley—”
“I’m not okay with this,” Draven cuts me off.
I don’t know why he’s turning down what seems like the only solution to our problem. It’s not like I don’t agree it’s a long shot, but it’s the only shot we’ve got.
Nitro must be thinking the same thing because he jumps in with, “Screw it. Does anyone have any better ideas?”
Nobody has anything to offer.
Draven’s eyes darken to nearly midnight. It doesn’t surprise me when he yanks open the door and jumps to the ground, stalking away from the group with his head bent and shoulders hunched.
“We don’t have any more time to argue,” Rebel insists, her voice rising with fear and impatience. “We need to go now.”
I hold a hand up to her to still her impatience and then go after Draven. He stiffens when my fingers brush against his arm. A part of me wants to pull him close and let him lean on me the way that we’ve been leaning on him for so much of this journey.
“I know this isn’t a great plan,” I begin. “But—”
“It’s crap,” he tells me, scowling at the ground.
“I know.” I rub his shoulders. “I think so too. But we’re out of options.”
I give it a moment to sink in. “We need to get to Deacon. Before he ends up in one of those body bags. If Riley is our only access, then we have to suck it up.”
“Suck it up?” he asks incredulously. “You want me to put the fate of my cousin, my best friend, in the hands of a hero?”
I wince at his virulence. “You kind of already have, haven’t you?”
He doesn’t answer. Then, reluctantly, “I don’t trust the Malones.”
“Neither do I. Neither do any of us at this point. But you trust Rebel, right?”
Again he doesn’t answer.
“Draven, come on. You know Rebel would never do anything to hurt Dante.” I’ve only known for a couple days that they’re together, and even I know that much.
“I know.”
“You’re starting to trust Jeremy,” I press. “And I’m not technically a hero, but you trust me, too.”
He shrugs, not arguing.
“Then maybe we need to give this a shot. We’ve tried everything else. Besides, if it’s a trap…if it’s a trap, we can find a way out, right? Between the six of us, we can do a lot.”
“I’m not worried about getting caught,” Draven says, and I can tell from the slant of his shoulders and the clench of his fists that his comment is not bravado.
Besides, except for that heights thing, he hasn’t been afraid once since this whole nightmare started—at least, he hasn’t shown it. He’s never hesitated. Never backed away from anything we’ve had to do.
So whatever this is—whatever’s going through his head right now—has to do with something else, something inside him that I can’t see, can’t reach. There’s so much about him that I don’t know, and never has it been more apparent than right now.
I mean, we may be team members. He may have kissed me. We may have kissed each other. But on this, I’m flying blind.
“What are you worried about?” I ask.
He looks me straight in the eye. For a moment, I can see the real Draven, all alone behind the badass, beneath the layers of darkness and angst he wears like a second skin. And then it’s gone. In its place is the smirk I’m coming to hate even as it makes me smile.
“I’m worried about busting into Riley’s place and being blinded by all his glory and goodness,” he tells me. “There’s only so much superheroic awesome a villain like me can take at any one time.”
He delivers the line well, his voice cocky and his sneer perfect. But there’s a tension in him that says it’s so much more than what he’s letting on. And just like that, all the trust we’ve been building crumbles.
“When are you going to tell me the truth?” I demand. “I’ve done everything I could to prove that I’m committed to rescuing Deacon. That I deserve your trust. You don’t have to trust Rex Malone, but when are you going to really trust me?”
“Trust you?” His look turns incredulous. “You locked me in a refrigerator.”
I roll my eyes. “Be glad it wasn’t the freezer.”