A/N : An apology for the lack of updating, no excuse here, the story is already written. The only things I need to upload chapters is A) final editing, and B) Incentives, which take the form of reviews. I hope you had a great Valentines day, and that you enjoy reading this chapter.
I enter my mom's office without knocking, our task finished without difficulties. My mom is nowhere inside, but I can hear the faint shot of a rifle, giving away her position at the shooting range below her office. I go to her to her desk, and extract ear plugs and two lip sticks from it. After placing both ear plugs in place I then point one of the lip stick's laser beam to the sensor by the book case. A mini elevator emerges from the left part of the shelves.
I approach the shooting range, my mom deaf to my steps by the protecting ear gear. She is shooting constantly at three flying targets. I stop myself from giggling at the newly added one, the face of Mr. Solomon, besides it the target with more bullet holes is the one that contains Mrs. Goode, followed by the Logo of the Circle.
I quickly place on appropriate gear and stand on the booth besides my mom, seeing as she is still oblivious to me. I point my rifle unto the moving targets and neatly puncture the Blackthorne logo in the middle several times, and for good measure, drive a bullet through Mr. Solomon's heart. It's then that my mom notices me and proceeds to unload her fire arm and I do the same taking my ear plugs, earmuffs and goggles off.
"That didn't go well." I tell her as if she hasn't noticed but one of us had to voice it.
She shakes her head "He didn't have a Madame Dabney; he was never taught how to apologize." She tells me, defending his actions. Although technically speaking, there's no need to teach professional assasins the art of apologizing. I give a shrug "He could have tried harder not to show it." I say blatantly as we busy ourselves with setting things back in order, my mom switching on the smoke ventilator.
As I tear the image of him from the hanger I wonder how much Mr. Solomon is willing to lose for his pride. I silently watch as mom takes down the other target posters. I hand him Mr. Solomon's and watch as she neatly rips them down the middle. I toss her the second lipstick, and she proceeds to set them on fire and we just stand there, watching them burn, twisting into themselves and shriveling up
"He was raised to be a killer, Cameron." She reminds me and although I don't think that's enough of an excuse I nod, realizing that if it were me in her shoes, I'd also try to defend Zach.
I just look at her and she looks back, her face softening, "Zach, did get Madame Dabney, and a bad example too, sweetie, he won't mess up. Actually, I'm pretty sure Zia raised him to be a gentleman." She tells me and we shudder at the irony of that, and I also wonder if the Acedmy used to teach mind reading.
I nod, watching as she stomps out the fire, having taken her anger out at Mr. Solomon.
"He's not okay, is he?" my mom questions, changing the subject, her eyes gazing into mine, her face sporting a slight frown.
I shake my head, "Of course not. That was all for show, he shouldn't even be walking." I tell her and see as her frown deepens.
"Then how come he didn't stay at Langley, Cameron?" she questions, but we both know the answer.
"He wanted to come home, the doctors tried to stop him, but he-he's Joe Solomon, so they just managed to do the brain scans and made him promise to abide by Dr. Anders' instructions."
My mom nods, "I'll make sure he does." She tells me and I can't stop myself from teasing.
"You are not his boss anymore." I tell her turning off the smoke ventilator.
My mom smiles, a mischievous glint in her eye as she tells me "We'll see if he has the nerve to write that letter."
I nod, "Anything specific you wanted to talk to me about?" I ask her and she nods and motions for me to follow her back into her office.
I take a sit on the couch and turn to face her as she takes a sit in front of me and hands me a cinnamon roll from the platter on the small table between us.
"Cammie, now that Joe's back, I was wondering if you would like to join Bex for the remainder of the summer vacations?" she asks me, breaking her roll in half and taking a bite out of it.
Her suggestion catches me by surprise. I quickly shake my head and she raises and eyebrow at me, in question.
"No, I-I am okay here." I tell her, panic seeping into my voice, because I was still planning on leaving before classes' came into session an if I was shipped to another continent my current plans for leaving would be more than messed up.
My mom sighs "Come one sweetheart, it'll be good for you getting out of here, even if it's for a little while." She tells me.
"No, really, I'm okay with staying here a few more weeks. There's always next break to take a vacation." I reply and she nods, accepting that for an excuse.
She sighs "It's almost two, go to bed kiddo." She tells me coming over to kiss my fore head. "Good night, be sure to sleep in, you deserve it." She tells me, as I exit her office.
"I can take it from here" I tell Zach, who has been helping my support, my weight on our way to my room. (In which I greatly regretted installing a bloody climbing rope to get to my room…the fire pole, to descend, not so much.)
I let go of Zach and almost immediately topple over from the added weight on my weak legs. Zachary moves quickly to support me and guide me to my bed. I sigh, looking up to him; he shakes his head, not wanting to hear the thanks I don't want to utter.
"I really messed it up, didn't I?" I ask him, a shudder of exhaustion running through my back. Zach plops himself on the nearby chaise lounge and turns to look at me.
"By 'messed up' do you mean with Rachel or with that?" his chin points to me and I turn to see a fading scar along my arm.
"If you mean with Rachel, then yeah, you messed it up big time, if you mean that, well that was my fault." He tells me and I realize he blames himself for what happened to me, which I don't. The only thing I do hold against him is the fact that Cammie was there, but we all know Gallagher Girls have a way of getting things done their way but we also know Blackthorne Boys shouldn't fall for it.
"What was Cameron doing there? How did she even get out of Gallagher?" I ask him, anger at the whole situation seeping into my voice.
"We were going for this" He says showing me a battered old notebook that was hidden in his jacket.
"And you sneaked out of the Academy and drove all the way to Blackthorne, "I guess, "what the hell was Rachel doing? Or Cammie's so called 24/7 security team?" I ask him, expecting him to tell me they knocked her out and locked her in the subs, and then tell me how they seeped a sleeping medicine into the team's coffee before leaving, but instead, he chuckles.
"Rachel sort of took us to Blackthorne." He informs me and the information takes me aback, I feel my eyes widen slightly.
"Cammie's Jr. security Entourage was also there, along with Abby and the Baxters." He adds, and I chuckle lightly at the way he's referring to Cammie's friends.
"And after you got it why didn't you get the hell out of there?" I ask him, my voice reduced to a rough whisper.
"I won't even answer that one, Solomon." He tells me and I just stare at him, grateful for his undying loyalty, for his friendship.
"You should have gotten out the moment you saw me. You knew my plan as soon as you saw me." I tell him nonetheless and he shakes his head.
"I wasn't going to let you go down alone, and without a fight." He states and I shake my head, my mind calling up the torturous hours in which it was convince I had lost him. All of a sudden I can't look at him anymore so I lower my eyesight to the ground.
"I thought I lost you Zach, you don't know how hard it was for me to even think about not having you anymore." I let him know, and I feel him take a seat next to me, but I still don't turn to face him.
"Don't you think I felt the same?" he questions, anger prominent in his voice. "Don't you realize how difficult it was to watch you fade away, to think that you would never wake up?" he tells me, and for the first time, I hear a whisper of vulnerability in his voice as he draws in a long breath. "I thought I had lost the only person who knew how it felt like to be an outsider in the only place where you belonged." He says, and I finally turn to look at him, see the telltale signs of suppressed emotion in his red eyes and the way he hold his hands in tight fists. I look into his eyes, and realize that if I'm gonna do anything right tonight, it's apologize to him.
"I apologize." I say simply and he shakes his head. "Whatever," he says, standing up and starting to walk backwards to the door, "it's not like either of us won't race to stand between Cammie and the next danger that finds her." He tells me and there's no point denying it. I did it once, and I'd do it a hundred times over, no one was going to hurt Matt's daughter under my watch, but no one was going to hurt Zach either.
"Zach," I say, my voice firm, making him stop, he looks at me expectantly. "Next time, I want you to run, promise me you'll run." I ask from him and he shakes his head.
"I will not do such thing." He says, staring down at me, now holding the door. He lets out a sight, "You are tire, Joe, give it a rest." He finally commands turning to open the door.
I let him go without another word, because we both know it is pointless to argue. "I'll be back at noon to help you pack, "He tells me turning to see me and I nod hearing the unsaid words 'you have all morning to make it right.' I nod, and he turns to walk from the room turning of the lights, and not much time passes before I drift into a dreamless sleep.