Scarred by Vengeance (Titanium Book 2) Read online

  "Tasia, he didn't know you would escape." Calen tries to reason, but it's no use. I've already been over every scenario in my mind. I've played out all of the different outcomes and in the end, I've come up with one.

  "I think hehoped I would escape. Because he's not done with me just yet. It's why he took Blake, Calen. He's still testing everything I do."

  I trail off, the sadness I feel is like an elephant sitting on my chest. It's true. Everything I've done for the last couple of months have been a test of my abilities. I thought I had the upper hand, but what I didn't plan for was Logan's betrayal. It was all a game to him and Foster. I was a plaything to enjoy. The thoughts are a physical weight on my shoulders. I'm sinking deeper and deeper into despair and I don't know how to pull myself out of it.

  "Tasia." Calen's voice brings me back to reality and I focus on his handsome face. "Let's turn the tables on him, T. Let's make sure he doesn't win."

  The determination in his voice makes me smile. It's that zeal that I've been missing lately. If nothing else, Calen deserves to have his sister back. If it’s the only thing that I do right, Iwill get Blake back.

  I give Calen a firm nod, ready to go to battle for my family.

  "Okay, Mister Smarty Pants. Where are we going to test my blood?"

  * * *

  Calen leaves to set up a better safe house for us while I get cleaned up.

  I don't know how I feel about Calen being here, but I know I need someone to look out for me while I'm so unstable.

  Not a word anyone really wants to associate with themselves. I feel like that's all I've become.

  Unstable.

  Ruined.

  Broken.

  Granted, I've been broken since the day my family was murdered in front of me. But I guess what I didn't know until now is that I've been broken even longer than that. Now that I know who I am, I can't really get a grip on thereal me. I gave myself three days to wallow in self-pity and now that Calen is here, I need to get over it.

  I make my way around the room, wiping down the places I've touched. I’ve been trying to touch as few objects in the room as possible to make sure, if I had to leave fast, I knew where I needed to clean. I don’t want to leave anything behind, not even a fingerprint. Calen will be back any minute and then we'll have to move. I look over the tiny room I've called my home for the last three days and my mind goes to the one place it shouldn't. I think of Logan.

  The last few times I've stayed at a motel, he was with me.

  The last time I was on the run, he was there.

  The last time I trusted someone—

  I have to stop thinking like this. I can't keep going back to that place of despair. I won't survive. I know I won't. Shaking my head, I grab my bag, and take a seat in the only chair in the room. I close my eyes, settling down to clear my mind and wait for Calen to come back.

  I've been trying to process the information I’ve collected over the past few days but with my brain activity all wonky, it's been hard. Now that I’ve gotten a few of my random outbursts out of my system, I hope I can get my mind to focus long enough to file some of the pieces in their designated places. I didn't used to have to work this hard at it, but apparently, now I do.

  I bring up a mental picture of the information I've collected. My mind is a vault, set up as individual cubicles of information on each wall, that goes on forever. I pull up the images of Foster's hired guns, placing them in the files labeled "Enemies". I can't categorize them into innocents any longer. They knew what they were doing when they sliced my skin open.

  I don't want to pull out the other images, but I must. It's the set filled with Logan. Just seeing his face in my mind brings tears to my eyes, but I don't open them. I fight through the sadness and package his images into neat little folders labeled "Gone".

  There's no time to dwell on what it means to have him placed so carefully into that folder. I can't explain, even to myself, why my emotional outburst rests mostly on him. Whatever memories of childhood I no longer have, he triggered them by coming back into my life and now it's another puzzle I have to solve.

  Thankfully, I don't have to solve it right this minute because Calen comes back at that precise moment. He knocks on the door once, before opening it and walking in. I'm glad I at least got a few things filed away before he came back, because I feel better.

  "Hey, everything okay?" Calen asks when he gets a good look at my face. I'm not sure what he sees there, but he studies me closely. That's when I realize the tears I was trying to hold back had spilled over anyway.

  "Yes. I'm—better." And surprisingly, I am. Untangling the mess which currently resides in my mind, even just a little, helped. I feel more balanced now. And I tell Calen so.

  "Good. Then we'll keep working on that until you feel like yourself again."

  He grabs the bag by my feet and walks out of the room. I do one last sweep with my eyes, before following him to his car. He parked in the less noticeable section of the parking lot: I could hug him for his survival skills. He continues to surprise me and that's probably my own fault. I don't appreciate what and who I have in my life the way I should. I've known that for a while, but it's so much more evident now than ever before.

  We get in the car and drive away before Calen speaks.

  "Uncle Freddie, being the genius mastermind that he is, pulled some mojo and found us a cabin in the woods. Not the Whedon kind." Calen chuckles at his own joke, and I smile in response.

  "Wait, in the woods? I thought we were going back to the city." I'm not sure how comfortable I am with being so far away from all the action. Especially not now, that I’ve decided to get back into it.

  "We're not going to the city until you're well enough to handle yourself. I know you don't like doing what you're told, but in this case, I think you should defer to Uncle. He doesn't think you're well enough to take care of yourself if push comes to shove, and personally, I agree with him."

  Calen says all of this carefully, as if he’s afraid I'm going to lose it and he should be. His words make me angry. Not crazy angry. Just regular ole Anastasia angry.

  "I can take care of myself, Calen. I don't need a babysitter."

  "This is not about me babysitting you, or anything like that, and you know it. So don't get all snippy with me. You know you're not well. And until we figure out exactly what's causing your outbursts and how to stop them, you'll do more harm than good."

  "What about Blake?" I know I'm not fighting fair, but I hate feeling this helpless.

  "What about Blake?" Calen replies, glancing over at me ever so briefly. "You can't help her if you can't help yourself. You may think what you like, but I love my sister and I want her back. But I also love you and I can't get Blake back if you're not yourself. You know this, Tasia. I'm not saying anything that’s new to you." He sounds angry and it's an emotion I don't see him display very often. The other emotion I hear as an undercurrent is fear. That one, I hear even less.

  It scaresme.

  I settle back against my seat, not saying anything at first. Of course Calen is right. I can't help anyone if I'm this much of a mess. Whatever they did to me, we need to fix it before I go out on my search for Blake.

  "Okay, Calen. Let's fix me, so I can go and get Blake." I get a brilliant smile in return as he reaches over and bumps me on the knee with his fist.

  "That's my girl."

  I see the sadness behind his smile, I see the worry that's etched into his face. I wish he wasn't here simply because that would mean Blake was okay, and far away from this mess I'm in. I have to stop thinking so much like Anastasia and I need to get back to thinking more like Tasia.

  I have to be ruthless.

  I have to be tough.

  I cannot allow myself to feel.

  I just hope that after all is said and done, we're not too late. I cannot imagine this world without Blake in it.

  3.

  It takes us a little over two hours to get to the outskirts of civilization.
>
  One hundred and thirty-three minutes to be precise. For some reason, I'm having some trouble with being specific, when that’s used to be all I was. The scenery passes me by and I try to grasp the images to store them in my vault later on, but it takes a lot of my concentration. Too much.

  Inevitably, my thoughts turn to Logan. I'm still trying to decipher all the information his existence brought, and I have to start at the beginning. But the moment I think about my childhood and Logan, my head begins to pound. I push and then—

  I grab at my head as the pain hits me like a blow. Gasping, I try to catch my breath. I hear Calen's voice asking what's wrong but it sounds like he's speaking through a long tunnel and I'm on the other side. I shut my eyes against the pain and push any of the memories I might've had away. Immediately, the torture stops and I can breathe again.

  "What was that?" Calen asks, turning to face me. Only then do I realize that he's pulled off to the side of the road and is studying me carefully.

  "That was me trying to do something foolish, like remember."

  I don't know how else to explain it, but ever since Logan came back into my life, if I tried to remember, my mind would block it. Since the day at the docks, it's been much worse. If I push my memory even a little bit, I get a head splitting migraine and I can't see or breathe. It's almost like a wall goes up and I can't break through it.

  "Has it gotten worse?" Calen asks, and then I remember that I don't have to explain it to him because he already knows. Uncle Freddie and I discussed it when Logan first showed up. Ugh. I wish his name didn't make me so sad all the time.

  Anyway.

  "Yes. It's much worse now."

  "And the same thing brings it on?"

  Bless you, Calen for not sayinghis name. I don't know how much longer I can keep my sanity if I can't even control my emotions. Calen continues to study me with that critical eye of his and I wonder what he sees when he looks at me.

  Do I look as shattered as I feel?

  "Yes." I reply, stretching my back out to get the kinks to settle.

  "Hmm." Is all Calen says, before turning his signal on to get back on the road. That doesn't sit particularly well with me. I reach out, stopping his hand movement and turn him to face me.

  "What do you mean 'hmm'?

  "Nothing. It's just—interesting."

  "I get head splitting migraines and you find it 'interesting'?" I'm getting upset again, but it's understandable. Right?

  "Not like a science project interesting. Just something we'll have to look into when we do your blood test. I want to see if they put any sort of coding in your system." He doesn't wait for my response, but pulls back out into the road and continues driving. I process what he's telling me, quietly and carefully. Which actually makes me want to give myself mad props for not freaking out.

  "Calen, did you find something that would suggest a coding system?" I ask carefully, trying to keep my voice level. There is so much about Kallos that we still don't know. Every piece of information that came from the last few months is still being processed and checked.

  I know they're using children's DNA as a testing compound. I know they're creating some sort of a super soldier elixir that keeps people young and strong. But coding? That's taking it a step farther isn't it? Haven't they tampered with God's creation enough already?

  "Tasia. Stay calm." I don't even realize I'm squeezing the life out of the upholstery until Calen's hand lands on my own. He unravels my fingers from where they're digging into the leather, relaxing them with a touch. "Hey, breathe. You're okay. Everything is okay."

  His voice soothes me, just like it used to when we were little. Calen was always the older brother, even though we're barely a few months apart in age. But when I lost Kyle, Calen stepped in. He would read me bedtime stories, he would protect me from the bullies even when I could take care of myself. How many times is he going to have to calm my fears now? How many times will he have to tell me it'll all be okay to make sure I don't lose it?

  I cling to his hand, finding the solid ground I keep losing. He watches me, waiting for me to calm down and when I do, I give him a small smile.

  "I hate them so much, Calen. I can't help it. Every time I think of them or even start to think of them, the rage boils up inside of me and I can't think straight."

  "I know, T. But you'll learn how to control the impulses and we'll figure out why you're so out of control. You know we will." He gives my hand another squeeze and after receiving a nod of acceptance from me, he turns back to the road.

  We don't speak again until he pulls up to the front entrance of the cabin. It's hidden deep in the woods, the road isn’t visible to those who aren’t looking for it. I notice at least four cameras on the drive up and it makes me breathe a little easier, knowing that no one is going to come here without our knowledge.

  I get out of the car, my eyes scanning the building in front of me. It's a beautiful wooden structure, with large windows and a massive patio out front. It's not what I expected. Not even close.

  "Impressed?" Calen asks, coming to stand beside me as I gape at the building.

  "I really should stop being impressed when it comes to Uncle Freddie, but yes as a matter of fact, I am." It feels good to smile.

  * * *

  I don't like running.

  I never have.

  I never will.

  But being outside, one with the nature so to speak, really helps get my mind off things.

  Like Blake.

  Or Logan.

  Or the knowledge that I'm some freaking science experiment.

  We've been here for less than twenty-four hours and Calen has already taken a ton of blood and attached me to all kinds of machines. I couldn't take being inside that make shift science lab any longer, I had to get out. So running it is.

  I've trained my body to do whatever it takes when it comes to preparation, and this is just one of those times. I'm a lot weaker than I was a week ago and that doesn't sit well with me. My body isn't healing like it should and that makes me...angry.

  That's the emotion I've been concentrating on because the others are hopelessness and sadness. Neither one of those will help me get Blake back or bring Kallos down. There is so much work to be done, so much that I need to be focusing on. Allowing my body the time it needs to heal isn't really in the books either. I have to push myself because Ihave to find Blake before it's too late. When the house comes into view, Calen is waiting at the front door with a tablet in his hand.

  "What?" I ask, stopping to look up at him from the bottom of the stairs. He doesn't answer, extending his hand holding the tablet out to me. Dread washes over my body as I take the stairs two at a time. Something is wrong. I know something is wrong. My eyes land on the page Calen has pulled up on the internet and my heart drops.

  Kallos Enterprises Begins Worldwide Distribution of Energy Drinks.

  Calen manages to grab the tablet out of my hands before I throw it. Rage boils inside as the the future with Kallos at the frontlines takes root in my mind. The people in power bending down to Kallos rule, children taken from parents without even realizing they're missing a piece of their heart. I bend over, hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath.

  "The virus—the virus you turned on when Blake was kidnapped, it did nothing?" I ask between gasps of breath.

  "It only partially shut down their system. All of the intel we had on the companies goings-on didn't say anything about the mass production. They weren't even supposed to be ready to release the drink for at least another three months."

  "It's my fault. I pushed them. I made them accelerate their timeline. It's my fault."

  Instead of going inside the house, I turn back to the forest. My feet carry me down the stairs but I don't even have a destination. I just move. Calen catches me before I can take four more steps.

  "It's not your fault, Tasia. Do you hear me? Don't you dare put another thing on yourself. You didn't do this. They did. They're the ones playing with
people, not you. You can't lose sight of what needs to be done now. You can't back off.For Blake's sake, don't back off."

  His words ring true in my mind, but the doubts and the panic work at drowning it out. There is nothing more I want than to go back to the time before Chicago, before Logan, back when I knew what needed to be done and didn't care about the consequences. I allowed myself to feel and now that I can't turn it off, everything around me is going to hell.

  "Don't you see, Calen? Itis my fault." I turn to face him, my voice coming out a lot calmer than I anticipated. "I let myself get distracted. It's on me that Blake was taken, it's on me that thousands of people will be under Kallos’ thumb within the month. If I wasn't so wrapped up in Logan and what I felt for him—if I wasn't so wrapped up in feelings and just did my job, like I was supposed to, we wouldn't be here. Blake would be safe and Kallos would be burning."

  I say the words in a rush, afraid that I won't own up to my mistakes if I stop to breathe. Calen doesn't move, he doesn't shout accusations at me even though he should. He should hate me for what happened to Blake, but yet, here he is trying to pull me together.I don't deserve that kind of love. I don't realize I admit that out loud until Calen breaks the defeating silence with his next words.

  "It's not about whatyoudeserve, Anastasia." Calen says. "It's about what you aregiven. You're just as much my sister as Blake is and I'm not about to let you break apart to a point of no return. We—Uncle Freddie, Blake, and I—we've tried for years to break through the careful shell you have placed around yourself. You wouldn't let us love you when that's all we really wanted for you. That is why we decided to help you on this path of destruction. It's the only way we knew you wouldn't go off the deep end without having someone to pull you back.

  When Logan came into your life, you finally saw that other side of life. You opened up to someone, showed them the inner workings of your heart, and I wouldn't change that for anything. Maybe that's selfish of me, sacrificing thousands of lives so that I can see you be human—be you—again, but I don't care. And maybe that makes me just as at fault as you think you are."