“Then why did he think you were upset with him?” Bridgette asked.
Charlotte waved her off. “That was something else, and even that wouldn’t make me hate him.” She paused. “I thought it did, but when I saw him there…” She looked back outside. “I haven’t felt that helpless in a long time,” she admitted. “Roman was the closest thing I had to family for the last five years. Even if I wanted to, I can’t just shut off my feelings toward him.”
Bridgette sat up a bit straighter, a sudden pang of jealousy charging through her. Something on her face must of given away her emotions, because Charlotte instantly started laughing, her hands raised in front of her.
“Not those kinds of feelings,” she said. “Roman’s never been anything but a brother figure to me, I can assure you. Although that look you just gave me tells me all I need to know. Deny it all you want, Bridge, but you’ve got it bad for our resident bad boy.”
“I thought I was the resident bad boy,” McKay said, sauntering in like he owned the place.
“No, you’re the village idiot,” Charlotte replied with a sweet smile. “Big difference.”
He sprawled on the bed, propping himself up on his elbows. “I’m ignoring you now,” he said, only looking at Bridgette.
Charlotte snorted. “Good luck.”
“How ya feeling, Bridge?” he asked.
Bridgette shrugged. “Confused, to be honest.”
“You want to talk about it?”
“She is talking about it – with me,” Charlotte interrupted.
McKay slowly turned to look at her sister. Bridgette could see him fighting back a smile. Their affection for each other was clear in every look that passed between them, making that empty ache in her chest hurt even more, just watching.
“I’m her best friend,” he argued.
“Speaking of that,” Bridgette said, grabbing their attention. She had a feeling when the two of them were together it was easy for them to forget there was anyone else in the room. “How is it that you didn’t know Charlotte was my sister all that time?”
“Yeah,” Charlotte said with a smirk. “Way to be perceptive, genius.”
McKay’s mouth dropped open in mock outrage. “Excuse me, but as far as I was concerned, you were dead. How was I supposed to know otherwise? I was never looking for any similarities between the two of you. Not to mention, I’d never really met you when we were younger.”
“You do look a lot different now,” Bridgette said, turning to look at her little sister fondly.
“No I don’t,” she replied.
“You do,” Bridgette insisted. “You’re even more beautiful. You’ve grown into a woman.”
“I can certainly attest to that,” McKay murmured.
“Gross, McKay,” Bridgette said, throwing a pillow at him.
Charlotte just laughed. Sitting there with the two of them, Bridgette actually started to feel some of the weight lift from her. Maybe she just needed to get out of this room and shrug off all the gloom surrounding her. Except a large part of her instantly recoiled at the idea, wanting nothing more but to sit and worry about the fate of a man whom she still hadn’t determined her feelings for yet.
“Missy has been cooking up some delicious stew all day,” McKay said, looking at her pointedly. “Think you might want to come down and eat with everyone?”
Bridgette went to say no, but stopped herself. She couldn’t hide up here for the rest of her life. And she did owe everyone a thank you for the risk they put themselves at in coming to get her. “Sure,” she said, winning a smile from her sister.
McKay clapped his hands loudly, springing up off the bed. “Great, let’s go eat. I’m starved.”
Bridgette got up, hooking her arm through Charlotte’s as they walked to the door. Her sister gave her a gentle squeeze. McKay turned just in the doorway to look at her.
“Just so you know, Bridge, it’s okay to be sad. I don’t know what happened between you and that arse, but I know a little something about falling for the other side,” he said, looking at her sister with more admiration and emotion than she’d ever seen from her best friend. “Sometimes, despite what others may think or say, you just need to do what’s right for you. We get one chance in this life.”
Tears welled up in her eyes as a knot formed in her throat.
“Choose what makes you happy, Bridge, and screw anyone else.” McKay leaned down and kissed her on the forehead lightly before turning and walking out into the hall.
“I think he’s gone all soft since he’s met you,” she joked, trying her best to get a handle on her emotions.
Charlotte grunted just as McKay shouted, “Never!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Bright lights blinded him the instant he pried open his eyes. Roman moaned against the sudden assault, retreating back to the comfort of darkness. A low chuckle sounded from just beside him, alerting him to the fact that he wasn’t alone – wherever he was.
A soft mattress was beneath him. The smells around him were that of antiseptic and the bite of alcohol, the familiar scents of a medical facility. Breathing in a deep breath, his lungs filling greedily, he let it out slowly, thankful for the fact that he could still experience such a feeling. He was alive. There was a time there when he didn’t think he would be.
After Bridgette was dragged away by Charlotte and the rebels, he’d been left alone on the street, his side bleeding out at an alarming rate. Roman had seen enough deaths to know when an injury was life threatening. He had no illusions that it was just a scratch. The bullet had hit him like fire, burning through his flesh and tissues, a jolt of pain like he’d never experience before.
But it was worth it. If he had to go back and do it again, he wouldn’t hesitate to step in front of that bullet meant for Bridgette. Better him than her. If it was the only right thing he ever did in his life, it would have been worth it. Clearly someone had found him, however, and brought him to the doctors at headquarters.
Slower now, Roman lifted his eyelids, blinking against the assail of the fluorescent bulbs above him. The stark whiteness of the room only helped to increase his discomfort. He waited a second, letting himself grow accustomed before turning his head slowly to see Ludwig sitting in a chair beside him, his face blank as he watched Roman in silence.
“How –” He cleared the roughness from his throat. “How long have I been out?”
The left side of Ludwig’s mouth pulled up in a ghost of a smile that didn’t reach his bleak eyes. “About three days now,” he answered.
Three days? Jesus. He’d never been out that long before.
“You lost a lot of blood,” Ludwig continued. “We thought we might lose you for a while there, but thankfully we found a blood match and stabilized you.”
Blood clinics were all but obsolete nowadays, considering no one wanted to donate. What citizen would willingly give their blood to a government that suppressed them? Roman glanced up at the bags of clear liquids slowly dripping down a tube connected to his vein.
“Where did you get the blood?” he asked out of curiosity.
Ludwig pulled up the sleeve of his arm to show a small bandage there. “Looks like we have something in common.”
Roman was shocked into silence. Ludwig knew of his betrayal, and yet he had still given his own blood to save him. What was he supposed to say to something like that?
“Don’t look so horrified, I’m sure you won’t catch any of my evil,” he said with a humourless smile again.
“I’m not horrified, I’m just surprised,” Roman replied.
Ludwig leaned back, his eyes never leaving him. “I couldn’t very well let you die on me, now could I?”
“Why not? You know now that I’ve been lying to you.”
A coldness swept into his gaze that Roman initially thought was anger. The closer he looked, however, the more he realized that it wasn’t anger, but hurt. They sat in an awkward, strained silence. Finally Ludwig let out a long breath, leaning forward, his
elbows resting on the tops of his knees. He dragged his hand down his face, his eyes now trained on the linoleum floor.
“She is exquisite,” he said softly. “She doesn’t have the fire that Di has, but there is a different sort of light about her. An innocence that most people no longer have.”
Roman didn’t say anything, his breath held tightly in his chest.
“I think part of me sensed something was different about her.” He paused, a small, genuine smile stretching across his lips. His eyes lost in memory. “She’d ask me questions.” He chuckled. “That should have been my first clue. Di never asked questions.”
Ludwig looked up at him, his expression serious. “Do you have feelings for her?”
Roman swallowed against the dryness in his mouth, his heart picked up speed at the question. He nodded slowly.
Ludwig took another deep breath, looking away. “You know, there are times, at night, when I’ll sit alone in my office, looking around at the space that isn’t really mine, just something I’ve acquired from someone else. At the décor that isn’t necessarily something I would have chosen. All the books that were once someone else’s possessions, possibly meaningful in some way – none of which I have read. I’m surrounded by things that aren’t me, aren’t mine. I’m not really sure I own anything that really speaks of me, of who I am. I sometimes wonder if I even know who I am most nights.”
He looked up, a wry tilt to his lips. “I am everything and nothing, all at the same time. For years I was molded to be a force that my father wanted me to be, and I did everything in my power to become that. I’ve always wanted to make him proud. Throughout all that time that I worked toward this, I never once established any sort of relationship or connection with anyone – until you. On those nights that I think, what have I done with my life? What is the purpose of all this? I think of the lives lost, and the cities ruined, and I can’t help but question if I could go back and do it again, would I?”
He paused again. Roman had no words. In all the years he’d known Ludwig, he never once heard him doubt the things they’d done.
“I might have done some things I perhaps regret, but I’ve always been comforted to know that it was you who stood beside me throughout it all. You’ve become like a brother to me, Roman. I respect you, and admire you. I’ve relied on your wisdom more times than anyone else in my entire life. You and Di, you were the only people I’ve ever let myself care about. The fact that you lied to me doesn’t bother me. It’s that you lied to me because you were protecting the girl from me that injures. You came to care about something, and you hid it from me because you worried I would hurt it. Those who I consider closest to me can’t even trust me. It’s a very…disheartening concept. I’m not sure how to deal with that fact.”
“Ludwig,” Roman started, but stopped when his leader raised his hand to silence him.
“We both know you were afraid I would hurt her. And perhaps I would have, who knows. Makes a person think, though, how human they are when every single person sees them as a monster.”
Ludwig stood, buttoning the suit jacket he wore. The picture of class, as always. “I don’t know where you go from here,” he said. “Obviously I want you to stay with me and continue to help me lead, but that is for you to decide. If she means that much to you…” he trailed off, shrugging his shoulders. “Well, I can’t really understand it since I’ve never felt that way for anyone, but I can only imagine how miserable it would be to not be with her.”
He turned and walked toward the door, pausing at the threshold. Turning to look back at him, he said, “I can tell you this, though. I don’t look forward to you being my enemy. Decide what you will do. I will be in my office.” And then he was gone.
Roman lay in the hospital bed, his thoughts a complete mess. Not only had Ludwig saved his life, now he was giving him the choice of staying here, or going to find Bridgette. It was a scenario Roman never would have expected. The thought of going to Bridgette and just being with her made him want to stand up right then and run to wherever she was. He wouldn’t stop running until he found her and had her in his arms.
But to be Ludwig’s enemy? Could he honestly do such a thing to the man who had taken him off the streets and given him a purpose? They’d shared so much together over the years, Roman couldn’t imagine simply walking away from him.
Unfortunately it had to be one or the other. If anything was clear, it was that Roman couldn’t have both Bridgette and Ludwig in his life. It had to one or the other – his heart, or his loyalty. Which to choose?
If he stayed here with Ludwig, everything would go back to normal. Except it wouldn’t be normal, because now he wouldn’t have either of the Hatcher sisters. How dull life would be without either Lottey’s sass or Bridgette’s energy. What would it be like to have them both around him, fighting to repair the damage he helped cause with Ludwig?
What was he thinking? There was no way Bridgette would want him in her life, even if he did decide to go and find her. She knew now that he was the one responsible for her mother’s death. How could she ever look at him the same way? He had singlehandedly ruined her family.
No, his inner voice argued, that was their father. When Ludwig had confided in him the truth about how well he knew Douglas Hatcher, it had taken everything in Roman not to run and find the man who so carelessly put his children at risk, and give him exactly what he deserved. And then that lowly son-of-a-bitch had gone and tried to shoot her. Roman couldn’t imagine ever doing to his own flesh and blood what Douglas Hatcher had done.
Seeing the look on Lottey’s face when she had discovered the truth nearly had him tearing the rebel leader to pieces right then and there. The only thing that had held him back was the gun he’d had pointed at Bridgette. What he wouldn’t give to have him in his hands now.
The realism that Bridgette probably hated him now made him want to sink back into unconsciousness and never wake up. What kind of choice did he really have now? Stay with Ludwig, knowing that perhaps the trust would never be the same between them, and knowing that Bridgette was out there, away from him. Living every day like he was a robot, going through the motions, working his way to the day he finally left this world for good.
Or leave, and try to find Bridgette only to have her turn him away. Then he would have ruined things with Ludwig. He knew for a fact if he left, Ludwig would never welcome him back. He’d be completely alone in this world – again.
Maybe that was the right choice, he thought. The only choice. He’d spent years alone on the streets, and perhaps that was how things were meant to be. He knew two things for sure; one was that he couldn’t stay here, no matter what he told himself. His eyes were too open now to how messed up his life was. He couldn’t stand by anymore, helping Ludwig rule people, knowing that two of those people he was set on destroying meant more to Roman than his own life. No, he couldn’t be a part of the New World order any longer. His time here had ended.
The other thing he knew for sure was that he had fallen in love with Bridgette. And because of that, he knew he couldn’t go to her and make her life any harder. Seeing him would only make things worse for her, knowing that he was a cold blooded killer. Not that she hadn’t known before, but now it was personal.
His life had come to a crossroads of sorts, three very different paths set out before him. He knew which one made the most sense, even though it would hurt him the most.
“We’ve lost two more,” John said, walking into his room.
Douglas looked up from his map, noting the blood stain on the man’s shirt. “That’s unfortunate.”
His soldier’s jaw tensed, obviously unhappy with his reply. Douglas stood up straighter, waiting for him to say whatever was on the tip of his tongue.
“That’s a total of fourteen guys in the last week,” he said, shifting from foot to foot under the General’s stare. “We can’t afford to keep losing men.”
“I’m aware,” Douglas replied.
“Perhaps we shou
ld lay low for a while, let Ludwig cool down before making any more moves.”
Douglas laughed, a cold, chilling laugh. “I wasn’t aware you were leading us now, John.”
“I didn’t mean to imply –”
“I’m sure. This is a war, may I remind you. There will always be casualties. Those who have died, died fighting for something they believed in. There is honor in that.”
“Tell that to their families.”
“I will tell that to their families when we’ve ridden this world of the vile disease that is Ludwig Tennebris and his New World army. I will tell that to them when their children can grow up in a world that isn’t falling down around them, buildings destroyed, streets filled with trash. When our cities are rebuilt and thriving, and people can go out and live their lives without fearing a leader bent on controlling them. I will tell them how their men fought to give them that future, and they should be proud, not sad.” His body vibrated with energy, a fine sheen of sweat dotted his brow.
John looked down in shame, his shoulders hunched under Douglas’s words.
“Our men might have died, but we did win one victory. Roman Adamson was shot, and from what my sources tell me, is no longer alive. No one has seen him since that night. We might not have taken down Ludwig himself, but we have rid him of his two most valuable players. The tide is slowly turning in our favour, John. Do not lose hope now.”
“You’re right, sir. I apologize.”
Doulas grunted. He was surrounded with weak minded idiots. Why could no one see how close they were to finishing this? He looked at the man before him coldly, wondering how many more were like him – sceptical, afraid.
“We might have lost men, but we can get some back,” he said. The map of the western ghetto lay out in front of him. Those women that were with McKay and his brothers could be no one else but the infamous Archers, the small rebel gang that had refused to align with him. He would find them, and he would make them see reason. And if not, he’d use different measures to ensure they saw things his way. He would make them into stronger, superior soldiers than they ever thought possible. “Tell the recruiters to get ready. It’s time for a reaping.”
02 Masked-New World Page 22
