Into the Fire (Flame in the Shadows Trilogy #1)

13. Tommy

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

TOMMY

CCTV shifts are the bane of my existence. The long hours spent monitoring Levett Tech via screens are dull as mud.

It’s important for us to keep an eye on the campus, to make sure the Organization isn’t up to anything shady, but it’s rare for them to risk overt activity on site. There’s nothing happening tonight to hold my attention, to distract me from the guilt that’s gnawed at me ever since Mel joined the Resistance.

It hasn’t gotten easier to treat her like an outcast. Every day, every hour, it’s gotten harder. I hate the gloom in her eyes. I hate knowing it’s there because of me.

Feet up on the counter, I lean back in my chair, a sketchpad balanced on my knees, muscles sore from all the extra PT I’ve been forced to put in over the last three weeks. If my disobedience had resulted in Mel’s escape, I’d take Bill’s punishment gladly. I’d take it again and again.

As things stand, his demanding early morning training sessions are salt in the wound of my utter failure to protect her.

I angle my pencil tip against the page, shading, then brush a finger over the resultant hue to blend it.

I’ve been working on this drawing for a few weeks now. It’s a landscape. A vast, snowy plain, ringed in pines and firs. A soaring mountain range stands sentry in the distance, and endless stars glitter in the cold, open sky. There’s no sign of life, save for a single wolf crossing the frozen valley.

I add another layer of shading, but I’m not paying attention to what my hands are doing. In my head, Sam and Mel spar together.

Anger burns through me, pushing my lips into a line. Sam knows what I’m trying to do. He may not agree with my plan, but he has no right to ruin it, not when Mel’s freedom hangs in the balance.

I take a steadying breath. If I’m being honest with myself, Mel’s stuck now, anyway. This morning, the Organization put a warrant out for her arrest, alleging she stole trade secrets from Levett Tech. A serious accusation, when you consider stealing from Levett is essentially stealing from the United States military. Mel’s face is flooding the news, along with the footage of her pillaging the records room. A video of her tearful aunt begging her to turn herself in has gone viral.

As if we need another thread tying us together. I know what it feels like for the world to believe you’re guilty of a heinous crime.

I chew on the end of my pencil, eyes roving over the grid of screens mounted on the wall. Should I tell her? Or maybe someone else would be better, someone who hasn’t been an ass for weeks. Sam’s good with that kind of thing. Vik too, although they’re rougher around the edges.

Behind me, the doorknob turns, and I peek over my shoulder, expecting Cait. With Sam busy and Hunter and Vik on patrol, she’ll be bored.

Instead, the door falls open to reveal a fidgety Mel, standing in the hall, alone.

My eyebrows shoot up.

“Hi, Tommy.”

She’s wary, that much is clear. Stepping into the small room, she closes the door behind her.

I pull my feet off the counter. “Did Sam bring you?”

Mel shakes her head and plunks down in the chair next to mine, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. I try not to notice how this makes her shorts ride up her long, sleek legs. “I came on my own. Sam knows I don’t need to be babysat 24/7, unlike some people.”

Smothering a fresh wave of guilt, I keep my expression cold. I haven’t decided how to change tack now that Mel’s a fugitive, or how I can possibly explain my terrible behavior so she’ll understand. I need time to think. Not much, but I can’t tell her right now.

“All right, let’s get you back to your room.”

“Wait.” She throws out a hand and wraps her fingers around my wrist.

Sizzling energy flashes up my arm, like her palm is electrified. A small hiss breaks through my lips, and I jerk away.

“Sorry.” Pink creeps into Mel’s cheeks.

Working to keep my reaction bland, I get to my feet. “You just surprised me. No big deal. Let’s go.”

“No. I came to talk to you. Sit down.” She pauses, then adds, “Please.”

What could she want to talk to me about? Until training tonight, I haven’t done anything more than treat her like a prisoner.

Wordlessly, I drop back into my chair.

“Thank you.” Mel flashes me a small, nervous smile.

We sit in silence while she struggles to marshal her thoughts, biting that lower lip. Her eyes rove over the CCTV screens, then land on the sketchpad in my hand. Quick as lightning, she lunges forward and snatches it.

By the time I’ve registered what’s happened, she’s examining the drawing.

“It’s beautiful. So lonely. You drew this?” She glances up at me, and there’s wonder in her eyes.

Cheeks hot, I swipe the sketchbook back before she can rifle through the pages. “I might have.” I don’t show my art to anyone. Well, anyone except Cait.

The admiration’s still there on her face, a real smile pulling at her mouth. The way it lights her up is something beyond beautiful. I wish I could sketch it.

“You’ve got talent, Tommy.”

Warmth rises in my chest, mixed with a hearty dose of embarrassment. I turn my face away. “Thanks.”

“I love art. I’m not the best at drawing, though. I’m okay with music, but my medium of choice is language.”

“Language?” In spite of myself, I look back at her, one eyebrow raised. I’m intrigued.

Mel smiles again. “Yeah. Words are magic. They can be woven together to create something beautiful from nothing, and there are infinite possibilities. You can shape an image, a feeling, even a whole universe, with a few well-chosen lines. Words take a blank page and breathe life into it. There’s nothing like them.”

I can see the magic she speaks of. It glitters deep in her eyes, drawing me in. The way she feels about her art is exactly how I feel about my own.

I lean toward her. “You write?”

Mel’s smile widens. “Yes.”

“What do you write?” I find I’m smiling too.

“Whatever happens to be knocking around in my head when my pen hits paper. Poetry, lyrics, stories.” She pulls her knees up again, hugging them. “You can’t restrain an artist’s spirit. Words are how I express mine. Like you with your sketches.”

Mel’s never looked quite as dazzling as she does right now, glowing with passion for her art. I blink and look away, pretending to watch the screens in front of me, but seeing nothing.

Silence falls, lengthens, until I start to wonder whether she’s done talking.

“Sam told me about your plan.” Mel’s words are soft.

My eyes snap back to her. “What?”

“He told me why you’ve been so cold.”

I seethe. That traitor.

Yeah, my plan has failed. But why wouldn’t Sam toss me a heads-up before ratting me out? He should’ve given me a chance to explain myself.

Mel must think I’m such a jerk.

Because I am.

She’s still talking. “Ever since my parents died, my life’s been empty. One day, things were good. The next, my world shattered. My friends tried to support me, but… Well, we were young, and they didn’t understand. I was transferred to my aunt’s school district. Eventually they stopped calling.”

A frown tugs at Mel’s full lips, bringing out a dimple in her chin. The ghost of her pain haunts her voice, shadows her eyes. I find myself leaning toward her again.

“I took the job at Levett Tech because the police reports didn’t make sense, and no one took my questions seriously. At first, I was only confused, but after all the evasion I knew something had to be up.”

Smart. Most would dismiss their suspicion and buy into whatever BS they’d been fed by the authorities.

“I guessed Mara Levett and her team were negligent in some serious way and used the gas lines as coverup, and I wanted them to pay. People told me to move on, that I was losing my grip on reality, but I couldn’t. It didn’t get better with time. I only got angrier, more obsessed, especially after reading those damned reports. And now I know there’s more to it than a corporation buying their way out of trouble. A life above ground isn’t worth missing the chance to learn the truth.”

Mel’s story hits me with brutal force.

The fury. The isolation. The questions. All of it twisting her up, ripping her apart, turning her into a stranger in her own life.

I could give her what she wants. I know all too well what happened that night.

Mel’s eyes flick up to my face, shining with defiance. “You can treat me as awful as you like. I’m not leaving.” She pauses, then adds, “I was hoping we could be friends instead, though.”

My heart pounds, the breath stuck in my throat. Sharing her pain will only bring us closer. I can’t let myself get close to her. I’ll fail her, like I failed her parents.

Her gaze softens. “You don’t need to rescue me. This is where I want to be. My choice, not yours.” Hesitantly, she reaches out to lay a hand over mine. “But thank you. For caring.”

I hadn’t realized I was making a fist. Her soft touch is soothing, restful. Like moonlight.

Taking another deep breath, I relax the rigid muscles in my hand and turn my palm up for her. She wraps her fingers around mine and squeezes.

In response, my stomach swoops like I missed a step going downstairs.

“I’m sorry.” My voice is hoarse. “I hated treating you that way. I just couldn’t stand the thought of you caged here like the rest of us, especially because of me.”

“Don’t put that on yourself. I wanted to find the Resistance, remember?” Mel squeezes my hand again. “You probably saved my life. I wouldn’t have given up snooping at work, and the Organization would’ve gotten me.”

I smile, just a little. “So stubborn.”

She shrugs and grins back.

Mel won’t stop investigating because I’ve made things difficult. A hundred gruesome pictures flash through my mind. Reyna staring at me, ruined face streaming blood. The flesh ripped clean off Dad’s cheek. The sound of Mom’s screams as they shattered her bones, one by one.

Every time I close my eyes the memories leak out. Night after night, they rend my mind to pieces, never giving me a moment’s rest.

If she finds out what happened, what I did nothing to stop, her eyes will burn with loathing every time she looks at me. But if I don’t tell her myself, she’ll only despise me more in the end.

Darkness falls over my heart as I lean forward. “If I were you, I’d quit poking around. You don’t want to know what happened that night. When they died.”

Mel’s gaze is suddenly razor-sharp. Her fingers dig into my palm. “You know something?”

I study her hand in mine, tracing her knuckles with my thumb. My heart beats faster. “Yes.”

She gasps, one quick intake of breath. “Please, Tommy. Please. You have to tell me.”

“Once you know, you can’t not know. Are you sure about this?”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Mel nods. “Of course. It’s been torture, not knowing.”

With a huge effort, I fix my eyes on Mel’s. The last thing I want to do is tell her, but if this is what she needs, then she deserves to know. I’m only reaping what I’ve sown.

Calling on all the courage I possess, I face the memories.

I face her judgment.

“They came quickly. The Organization, I mean. I didn’t know what was happening. One second, I was talking to our moms in my parents’ bedroom. The next, I’d been shoved under the bed, and men in black were pouring in, dragging our dads with them. There were ten of them.”

A wall of sorrow presses on my throat. Mel squeezes my hand, and I draw strength from her touch, even as fear rips through me, making my palms sweat.

“You knew them? My parents?”

I swallow. “Sort of. They stayed at my house for a few days every summer, for the annual company-wide meeting at Levett Tech. I was too focused on my own dumb teenaged drama to pay them much attention.”

Mel nods, her eyes sad, like she knows what I mean. She doesn’t say more, just waits for me to continue.

What should I say, though? I want to give her answers without implicating myself too clearly or passing on my nightmares. I hesitate, the words jammed in my throat.

“Just say it.”

I shift in my chair. “All right. The Organization interrogated our parents. I saw everything. It wasn’t pretty.”

Mel blanches.

Is she wondering what I did while it all went down? Does she know I could have helped, but didn’t?

I did nothing but cower under the bed and save myself. Shame pools deep in my gut.

“They were murdered right in front of you?”

Mel’s eyes shimmer. Before I know it, her arms surround me in a warm hug. She smells fresh, like cherry blossoms and peaches, even after training all afternoon. Delicious chills run wild through my body.

“I’m sorry,” she breathes into my neck. “I can’t imagine.”

I’m dying to pull her closer. Instead, I pat her back, then gently push her away.

Mel drops into her chair, still bone pale. Revulsion lurks behind her wet eyes.

“How did you get away?”

I don’t want to tell. It grates on my heart to imagine the abhorrence in her eyes when she finds out. Of course, I deserve every drop of disgust she’s sure to have for me. And even if it costs me her friendship, she deserves the answer to her question.

I can’t look. The shame is too suffocating.

So, I study my laces, fighting to speak through the dryness in my mouth. “I hid under the bed until they dragged our parents out. Then I ran into the woods. The Resistance found me a few days later.”

No need to reveal the worst of it.

Mel’s hearty sniff has me looking up. Her eyes are wide, her cheeks glazed with tears. “It’s h-horrible.”

Ice cracks down my spine. What form will her hatred take? Will she scream? Hit me?

Mel leans forward. I tense.

She grips my hand. Holding it tight, she bows her head and breaks down completely.

I don’t understand. Why is she holding my hand? My inaction cost our parents their lives.

“Oh, Tommy.” Mel raises tear-stained eyes to mine. There’s no disgust, no blame. It’s a plea; a cry for help.

Sympathy and gratitude overwhelm me. She won’t have to suffer alone. Not this time.

“Come here.” I open my arms.

With a huge sob, Mel climbs into my lap and buries her face in my shoulder. Her body presses against mine, shaking while she cries. Warmth spreads through my blood, even as I’m sick over her pain. Winding my arms around her, I pull her closer.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper into her hair.

I was a fool to keep her away. Mel and I understand each other. We need each other.

Blinking back my own tears, I hold onto Mel like she’s an antidote for the poison that stains my soul, a talisman against the demons that lurk in the darkest corners of my mind.