Darn Stupid Brother You Are by Mairee

Chapter 116

(Hendrix's POV) Angel wouldn't move.

She clung to Thomas's body like it was the only thing holding her to the world. Blood soaked her hands, her shirt, her hair, but she didn't care. Her sobs echoed in the cramped maintenance closet in a haunting way that made my stomach twist.

"Angel," I whispered and crouched beside her. "We have to go."

She shook her head violently and her grip tightened on Thomas's lifeless form. "No. I can't leave him. I can't—"

Footsteps echoed in the distance, growing louder with every passing second.

I grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to look at me. Her tear-soaked face shattered something inside me. "Angel, listen to me. We'll come back for him. I swear. But if we don't move now, none of us are getting out of here alive." She stared at me with wide and uncomprehending eyes before finally nodding. Her hands trembled as she placed Thomas's head gently on the floor and brushed his blood-matted hair back one last time. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

I pulled her to her feet and held her close for a second, then grabbed the evidence bag. The footsteps were closer now and accompanied by voices barking orders.

"We have to go," I repeated, and this time, she followed.

.

The group was waiting for us in a storage room near the West Wing exit. The moment we stepped inside, the air shifted.

and my grim expression told them

first to break the silence. "Thomas?" he

shook my head. "Dr. Joe shot him. He... he

his breath and slammed his fist into the wall. Cylan and Hande moved to Angel's side and wrapped their arms around her as

"Thomas wouldn't want

the muffled sound

expose the center." Once the evidence was divided among the group, I stepped back and tried to catch my breath. The guilt that ate at

the photos were digging into my palms. "We're finishing this," I muttered under my

(Dennis's POV)

indicator of how far

office, my hands trembling as I held my bag. Across the desk, Dr. Aurora packed her things with an unnerving calmness. Her red wig was perfectly in place, and her face, save for her piercing eyes, was hidden by her mask. She didn't seem to be in a rush, as if

"You're leaving?" I asked.

compromised. There's no point

gaze, and I saw the cold tint in them. "They're collateral damage, Dennis. You know how

but I shouldn't have been surprised. I'd seen this before-Kentucky, years ago. The center there had been exposed, and they'd buried the evidence in rubble

destroy this place," I

mask. "Of course. Better to burn the evidence than let it fall into the

under her thumb, the decisions I'd made to survive, the betrayals I'd committed. I thought of Angel, of Hendrix, of the countless lives I'd sacrificed to protect my own. I

hands balled

"And what are you going to do, Dennis? Stop