Bianca assesses me for a beat, her eyes roaming my face and posture. She swallows audibly, then adds, “Kenzie might not bean innocent victim. When we get there, I don’t know what she might say or do. Are you sure you want to find out that way?”
You know that expression about your life passing in front of your eyes? A version of that happens to me with my next breath. Instead of the highlights and lowlights of my thirty-one years, it’s a montage of my friendship with Kenzie.
Is it possible she’s guilty of conspiring with the enemy this entire time?
From the first day I met her, I viewed her through rose-colored glasses. Underneath the lenses, I saw the truth.
Manipulative.
Self-serving.
Vindictive.
Conniving.
If I weren’t thrust into this situation, I’d never have admitted it, though.
Without batting an eye, Kenzie drove a painful wedge between Reed and me, exploiting our deepest fears to crush us. She used his feelings about his mother cheating on their dad to position Reed against me. Then she went for the kill by making me believe I was just another notch in his bedpost, playing on my insecurities.
She used what she knew about us to her advantage. And she didn’t even feel bad about it.
Given she did something so vile to two people she’s known most of her life—a loyal best friend and a brother—it isn’t a stretch to see her as capable of partnering with Silas to control me.
As my eyes blink free of memories and dark realizations, they come into focus on Bianca.
“I already know who Kenzie is. Your concern is appreciated, but unnecessary in this instance. I’m staying. She can’t hurt me more than she already has.”
And she never will again.
After Reed saves her, I’ll hug her senseless out of relief that she’s alive. Then I’ll tell her off one more time and close the door on our friendship.
Forever.
FIFTY-SEVEN
Hey, Kool-Aid!
REED
Negotiationsfor a safe hostage release set with the sun. The time for talk is over. Under the cover of night, a swarm of federal agents hustles into three armored vans at the very edge of the property. A smattering of snipers takes position in the trees.
Three teams of ten, armed to the teeth, will be bringing Kenzie and the surgeon home.
Alive.
As part of Charlie Team, I take my seat on a bench in the back of a van, along with nine others—four SWAT-trained federal agents and five members of the Violent Crimes Task Force. We’ll enter through the front door after the alpha and bravo teams breach the compound on opposite sides of the property.
We’re the final wave.
Thanks to the delay from our failed negotiation attempts, McBride, Hemsley, and Andrews had time to return to Tampa. They’ve joined Romero, Fowler, and me in the van.
The back door is closed as the last SWAT agent enters.
And now we wait.
Carnage knows we’re here, so we won’t have the element of surprise. Our best hope is that he believes we’re waiting for his decision on our latest offer for a peaceful surrender.
We aren’t.
