Page 90 of Volatile King (The Kings of Wayward Academy #6)

B lake

The SUV revved, and the tires screeched as I flew out of the parking lot chasing after Lawrence. The light snowfall was showing his fresh tracks, and I kept on them, weaving through the city toward the freeway. Fuck.

He wasn’t getting away, not this time. Never again. Lip’s voice was ringing in my ears. “ Uncle Lawrence shot our new mommy and daddy.” My hands tightened on the steering wheel. Why the fuck did he go after my parents?

Nash hadn’t said anything since we got in the truck. His face was a mask of fury set in stone. Everything about him was locked down as he stared straight ahead at the road, not blinking.

“We can’t lose him.”

Nash turned his head toward me. “We won’t, I know where he’s going.”

His voice was void of all emotion. He had shut down so he could do what was necessary. I couldn’t do that. Instead, I felt everything at a million miles an hour. The fear was crushing my chest. The rage was burning a hole in my gut. And my personal demons were already nipping at my heels.

“How can you be so certain?”

Nash held up his phone to show a text on the screen.

“I can’t see that.”

“He’s heading to the airfield. The pilot texted me by accident that he was running late. I’ve already answered him back, saying that the emergency was a false alarm and to head home. Less innocent people around the better,” Nash said, sounding cold and indifferent.

“I thought you have his passport,” I asked.

“I do, but he can still fly to a different state,” Nash said, his voice almost robotic.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Snap out of it. My parents could be fucking dead. He set everything in motion with Neal, Mya, and your son,” I growled, my frustration bleeding through into each word.

Nash typed silently on his phone and then looked out the passenger side window.

“I know, and it’s gutting me,” he said in the same monotone voice.

“It sure as hell doesn’t sound like it.”

I flew up the on ramp to the freeway, heading toward the private airfield where Lawrence kept the Collier jet.

“What do you want from me, Blake?”

I looked at him again and ran my hand through my hair.

“I don’t know. Be angry, be the Nash that will crush his skull.”

He turned in his seat and looked at me.

“You think I’m not angry? I have dreamed about killing my father almost my entire life, and lately, it is all I think about.

I love your family, especially Ella. She is like a mother to me, but I can’t think about that right now.

I can’t think about how Ren just watched another person she loves die in front of her.

I can’t think about all the mistakes I’ve made, or that when Mya showed up at my door, I should’ve marched her ass into a psychiatric ward to get her help.

I can’t, or I won’t be any good to anyone right now. ”

Nash took a deep breath. His eyes were so intense that I felt them boring into my soul. It was the first emotion he’d shown since getting in the SUV, and for whatever fucked up reason, it made me feel better. I wasn’t the only one going crazy. I wasn’t the only one falling apart inside.

His phone dinged, breaking the heavy silence that had fallen between us. Nash answered whoever it was. When he was finished, he sighed and stared at me.

“I should’ve seen him going after your parents. I should’ve known that he would want to take away the one person I considered a mother in my life after I killed Sheila…I should’ve fucking known.” Nash looked down at his hands curled into fists. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t fucking apologize, just…I don’t know, act normal or some shit. I’m freaking out over here. My parents need to be okay, Nash. They have to be.”

The trembling started again, and I felt cold all over. I probably shouldn’t be driving, but I wasn’t stopping to trade positions.

He reached out and gripped my shoulder. “We’re killing him tonight. I’m not taking any chances that he finds a way to make another deal with the Devil to escape. No matter what, your parents will be avenged, I promise.”

I nodded and sucked in a deep breath. “I’m sorry about Mya,” I said.

Nash nodded and looked out the passenger window. “She was already a ghost, yanked from her grave by someone far sicker than a necromancer, and forced to dance. Maybe this time she’ll rest in peace,” he said, and I shivered like Death itself had run its hand down my back.

As we passed a streetlight, I realized that the side of his shirt was soaked in blood.

“Fuck, are you hit?”

Nash looked down. “It’s nothing.”

“Don’t give me that. Show me.” He shook his head. “Nash don’t fucking do that. You’re not dying in this SUV with me. Now show me.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but must have thought better of it and lifted his shirt. There was a long gash across his ribs that needed stitches, but it didn’t look like the bullet had gone into his body.

“You’ll need to go to the hospital after, but you’ll live,” I said. “Fuck, you’ve got an angel watching over you. That was too close.”

Nash smirked but didn’t say anything as he pulled his shirt back down. He pointed to the exit.

“When we get off, don’t go to the front gates. I’ve got someone there opening the back for us. Lawrence will have lookouts at the front.”

We drove the rest of the way in silence, other than the tapping of my finger on the wheel. The steady drumming was helping to keep me focused and calm. The back entrance to the airfield was shrouded in darkness. The single light was out, and I wondered if that had been done on purpose.

“Cut the headlights and pull in,” Nash said.

Everything got much darker as I cranked the wheel to pull down the narrow employee access driveway. The tall metal gates were still closed, but before I could come to a complete stop, they began to open.

“Who do you know here,” I asked as we slowly rolled through the fencing.

“Doug, he’s the head of maintenance,” Nash said, like that was common knowledge.

A man wearing an orange vest stepped out of the small booth and walked over.

“Hey, the plane was moved to hangar three,” Doug said.

“Thanks for doing this, Doug. I’ll be in touch to square up,” Nash said, and the man turned and left.

There was a light on in the hangar, but the large door was still closed, confirming that the pilot wasn’t here. I drove slowly around to the side of the building and spotted Lawrence’s car, but he was nowhere to be seen. I parked and then watched Nash as he checked his clip.

I pulled out my gun and did the same while Nash looked out the side window for any threats.

“He will have guards in there, so we need to be quiet.”

There was no thought, no pre-meditation.

One breath…rage filled me. The next…action.

I gripped my gun, raised it, and slammed the butt down against the back of Nash’s head before I could talk myself out of it. He grunted and collapsed forward, his body crumpling in the front seat like a puppet with its strings cut.

“Fuck,” I whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Grabbing Nash, I held him as I reached down with shaking hands to find the seat controls.

I reclined him back, and he slid into the shadows, unconscious, but still breathing.

I pulled his gun out of his lax hand and tucked it beneath my shirt.

The cold pressed against my ribs, a cruel reminder of everything that had led up to this moment.

I opened the door just enough to slip out, then closed it gently behind me, soft enough not to alert anyone inside. I couldn’t afford any noise or hesitation.

Nash would’ve tried to stop me. He would’ve said this was for him to clean up and claimed he was trying to protect me.

Maybe he was right, maybe I needed the protection.

But right now? I didn’t give a single fuck about what tomorrow looked like, and I only knew what I had to do for the people I loved.

My parents were shot. Shot.

I didn’t know if they were alive. I didn’t know if I would ever hear my dad’s voice again or feel my mom holding me in one of her warm hugs. I didn’t know if I was too late to say goodbye. But I knew who pulled the trigger. And I knew who was breathing on the other side of that goddamn door.

Lawrence fucking Collier.

The man who had destroyed everything just by existing.

He was nothing but a walking reign of terror, and he needed to be stopped.

Had to be stopped, once and for all. Something had snapped inside me the moment we heard Lip’s cries for help.

A switch had flipped. The guy I’d been, the quiet one, the soft one, he didn’t make it into the SUV.

He never even had the chance.

Now there was just this version of me. Colder, harder, and un-fucking-forgiving.

And whether my parents made it or not…Lawrence Collier was going to look me in the eyes and feel what he’d done. The last face he ever saw…mine.

No fear.

No mercy.

He would die knowing that every bullet, every fucked-up attempt to break us, had only forged something harder. He didn’t destroy us, he made us.

And for that, I would thank him with a bullet straight through the legacy he tried to build in his name. He would die unable to spew or spread any more venom because I was immune.

He would die gasping, and I would smile.

I would watch him take his final breath and ensure that the one he thought was the weakest would be the one to put him in the ground.

It ended tonight.

JANUARY 1 – THURSDAY 12:01 AM

NASH

I blinked. Thoroughly confused.

“What the fuck,” I mumbled, slowly looking around and realizing that I was still inside the SUV.

The back of my head was throbbing, and I pressed my hand to the spot. It came away bloody. Was I hit? Where the hell was Blake?

My door opened and I reached for my gun, but it was gone.

“Easy,” Edmundo said and leaned down to look inside the vehicle. “It’s just me.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know. I was hoping you could tell me,” Edmundo said, holding out his hand to help me out. I staggered, but he caught me. “You, okay?”

“Yeah…just give me a second. I think Blake hit me over the head.”