The Betrayal of Renegade X (Renegade X, Book 3) (23 page)

I can feel everyone in the room staring at me again. Riley leans in and whispers, “What’s going on, X?”

But I don’t have an answer for him. I sit and watch, just as stunned as anyone.

Well, maybe not quite as stunned as them. I do have some idea of what this is, at least. I just don’t know why it’s happening.

In the video, I say, “I support villain rights. Obviously.”

Grandpa’s questions are cut out, so we never hear his voice. It jumps to me answering him.

“Uh, because I’m a villain? And I live with heroes. I spend all day with them at school. And they
don’t
care about us having rights.”

An angry murmur runs through the classroom. Sweat prickles along my back and sparks ignite beneath my skin. I can’t believe this.

“You should see how they’ve rewritten the history books,” I continue in the video. I’m clenching my fists as I’m saying it, giving away how much it matters to me. “They make it out like villains have never done anything worthwhile or contributed to society, like we’re all just here to get in their way and cause trouble. They give themselves all the glory. And they act like villains are diseased or something.”

I can’t believe Grandpa was
filming
me. Without asking. And now he’s broadcasting it on every channel.

The video jumps past Grandpa’s part again, going straight to me, practically shouting, “Of course it bothers me! I mean, I don’t care what they think about me. The kids at school and stuff. But, yeah, the way heroes act like all villains are automatically evil and that they’re better than us? That pisses me off. A lot. And I knew things weren’t great for villains, like, before I went to live with heroes. But even my family, the people I
know
care about me and don’t hate me for supposedly being half evil, they still say and do letterist stuff all the time. My friends, too.”

It ends right there, before I tell Grandpa I can’t join the Truth. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. Me saying I can’t join might have taken some of the edge off what I just said—
maybe
—but it would also be an outright admission that I knew about the Truth before all this.

Though maybe that’s not exactly a secret now, either.

It stops on a freeze frame. Xavier’s head is tilted back as he looks up at me. Words dissolve onto the image:

The son of the Crimson Flash believes in the Truth.

Do you?

I
find Gordon in his dressing room at the TV studio. I didn’t even have to ask where he was—as soon as I stepped foot in the building, everyone stared at me, until someone pointed down the hall, knowing exactly why I must be here.

Gordon’s pacing the room when I come in. He looks a little startled to see me and glances at the clock on the wall. He frowns but sounds more tired than mad when he says, “You should still be in school.”

Technically, that’s not true, because school got out two minutes ago. But I couldn’t have gotten here this fast unless I left early. I couldn’t exactly stay for the rest of fifth period when pretty much the entire class was glaring at me like they were three seconds away from finding some torches and pitchforks. Plus, Riley was giving me this wide-eyed look like he couldn’t believe what I’d done and was expecting me to fill him in. Which I wasn’t really looking forward to anyway, and I certainly wasn’t going to do it in front of the angry mob.

I expected Gordon to be pissed at me. Maybe not “my son just blew up part of the school and got arrested and expelled” pissed, but still mad. Probably a lot mad. Even though I didn’t have anything to do with that broadcast and I was only stating my opinion. But he couldn’t know any of that. And, given his lack of pissed-off-ness, I’m not actually sure he saw that video, even if everyone else in the studio obviously did.

“So,” I say, clearing my throat and bracing myself for the worst, “you didn’t see the—”

“Of course I saw it.” His face is pale, and he’s giving off this really weird vibe, part anxiety, part sadness.

“Okay, well, I know this looks bad. But I can tell you who’s behind it.” If Grandpa’s going to sell me out, then I can do the same to him. I tried calling him about a million times on the way here, but he kept sending me to voicemail. Finally he sent a text that said,
It was for your own good.

Yeah, right.

I expect Gordon to look shocked or pleasantly surprised, like he knew he could count on me after all. But he just stands there, waiting, like he’s worried I’m going to say it’s
me
or something. As if I’d have time for that.

I raise an eyebrow at him. “Don’t you want to know who I was talking to in the video?” I mean, Grandpa pretty much threw me under a bus for his own gain, so it’s not like I don’t want to return the favor. But I was kind of expecting at least a little bit of excitement over this. “Come on, Dad. I’m giving you an exclusive.”

“You lied to me.” Gordon sinks down into a chair, his head in his hands.

“Not exactly, but—”

“When we were at that diner. The perpetrator said he tried to rob them in the name of the Truth. Did you know? Did you know what he meant?”

Well, this isn’t going how I planned. “Yeah, I’m getting to that. If you’ll just let me—”

“You didn’t say anything! You knew this was going to happen, and you didn’t tell me. That’s
lying
, Damien.”

“I wanted to tell you.”

“But you didn’t.”

“I couldn’t. I promised, and, no, I
didn’t
know this was going to happen. I knew about the Truth, but that’s it.” Mostly.

He sits up, watching me carefully. “I’d really like to know what’s going on here. I thought you wanted to be a hero, and now...” He lifts up a hand, then lets it fall to his lap in defeat. “You joined some villain terrorist group.”

“Whoa. First of all, they’re not a terrorist group.”

He tilts his head, challenging that.

“They haven’t hurt anybody. And second, I didn’t join. And I’m not going to.” Especially after the crap Grandpa pulled today. “So relax a little, okay?”

He scowls at me. “Don’t tell me to relax. My son was on TV today supporting a terrorist movement against the League. After lying to me and keeping secrets. Because what? Being a villain is more important to you than your own family?!”

I can’t help wincing at that. “I have
two
families, remember? My grandpa—I mean, Alistair Locke—”

“I know who your grandfather is, Damien.”

He says that like it should be obvious, but it’s news to me. “He started the Truth. He wants me to have a future in villainy. I told him no. But he asked me to keep it a secret, and I couldn’t betray him. So, yeah, I didn’t tell you.”

“But you meant what you said in that video.”

He looks me in the eyes, and I glance away. “I didn’t know he was recording me. Or that he was going to make me the Truth’s spokesperson without my permission.” And without any payment.

Gordon sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I wish you’d come to me about this.”

“Why? So you could tell the League, and they could make sure no one ever heard of the Truth or about how villains are treated like crap every day? That’s exactly what the League wants—to shut us up, so they can keep oppressing villains. And I know they have their precious rules and everything, but you saw those pictures. Where were their rules then? Is it okay to attack an unarmed villain as long as you really, really don’t like him?! Everyone acts like I did the worst thing ever when I zapped that superhero, but you know they wouldn’t have even blinked if that guy had been a villain. If I’d zapped a supervillain, it wouldn’t have made the news.”

Gordon stares at me, his mouth gaping a little. “Damien, I meant I wish you’d come to me about
this
. You said in that video that even the people that care about you are...” He hesitates, not wanting to say it.

“Letterist?”

He nods. “You’ve obviously got a lot of pent up anger about it. And I’m sorry if I’ve—if we’ve—been contributing to that.”

“Wow.” Did he really just apologize to me? For being
letterist
? “But it’s okay. I know you’re not doing it on purpose.”

He gets up and puts his hands on my shoulders. “It’s
not
okay. I don’t want you to feel like an outsider in your own home. It’s bad enough that you have to deal with that at school, but I want all my kids to feel safe when they’re under my roof.”

“So, you’re not mad?”

He looks at me like
What do you think?
“Of course I’m mad. You still lied to me. You might not have joined your grandfather’s terrorist group, but you agree with him. You made that very clear in that video, and the fact that you didn’t know it was being recorded just shows how truthful it was. You chose to keep his secret for him, instead of coming to me about it. You assumed you couldn’t trust me, and that you
could
trust him, even though he’s—”

“A villain?”

“He’s a murderer.” He pauses a second to let that sink in. “He’s killed people.”

He says that like it’s going to shock me or something. As if I don’t know Grandpa’s work history. “Gee, I’d sure hate to be around someone who’s killed people. I certainly wouldn’t want to be around them every single day, or live in the same house with them, or eat the food they’ve made. That would be a crime in itself, don’t you think?”

“Helen’s not a murderer.”

“She’s killed people.” Like Kat’s grandfather, for instance. Not that he didn’t deserve it or anything, but still.

Gordon gets this really defensive look on his face and steps back. “She was in Special Ops in the League. It was her job to take out dangerous criminals who couldn’t be dealt with any other way.”

“That the League decided to kill, you mean. But what gives them the right? The League decides some villain should be taken out, and that makes it okay to murder them?”

“It’s not something they just
decide
.” Gordon’s got his shoulders back and his chin tipped up, in full-on stern-but-self-righteous mode. “They have rules in place. There’s a series of criteria a villain has to meet, as well as certain circumstances. The League doesn’t send Special Ops after a criminal lightly.”

“But the League decides what the criteria are, right? They still decide what the limit is and when to send out their team of assassins.”

“Of course they do. I know what you’re getting at, but the League is the only organization qualified to make that call.”

“Says them. I get that it was Helen’s job to take out criminals the League decided were too much of a threat. What I don’t get is why that’s okay, but Grandpa doing the same thing for villains makes him a murderer.”

Gordon’s eyebrows come together and one side of his face sort of twitches. He takes a deep breath, like he has to calm himself before he even tries to answer that. “Villains kill innocent people.”

“My grandpa didn’t.”

“Not according to the League. We’d have put him away a long time ago if we had the proof. But that’s the difference between us and villains. We need evidence before we condemn someone. Before we go after them. Villains only need a means. And your grandfather’s superpower gives him that means. It makes it easy for him.”

He means Grandpa has lightning. Just like me. “See, you don’t even know when you’re being letterist.”

“I’m not being letterist—I’m being realistic. Your grandfather is... not who I’d want you to choose as a role model. And the fact that you trusted him and kept dangerous secrets for him—”

“Just because you don’t like the idea of villains finally having an organization of their own doesn’t make it dangerous!”

“—it really hurts. And the Truth
is
dangerous.” He gives me this look of pity, like he feels sorry for me for believing otherwise. “It’s already destroying reputations.”

“By exposing the truth. If those superheroes in the pictures didn’t want a bad rep, then maybe they shouldn’t have done what they did.”

He holds up a hand. “Maybe. But we don’t know what really happened. All we know is that some pictures were shown out of context, and now prominent members of the League are going to be harassed and brought under suspicion.”

I can’t believe him. “So you really think that heroes treat villains in a safe, unbiased manner?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“No, but it’s what you meant.” And if there’d been pictures of villains torturing heroes, he wouldn’t have thought twice about the context or given them any benefit of the doubt.

“I just think that the Truth is going to be trouble, and I don’t want you involved with it.”

“I’m
not
involved with it.”

“Everyone in Golden City is going to believe otherwise. And when it gets out that your grandfather’s the mastermind behind this...”

“It’s not evil for villains to want rights.”

“I know,” he says, his voice hushed. “But when the Truth starts doing more than ruining reputations—when things get violent—I think you’re going to regret being associated with it.”

He sounds so sure about that, that things will escalate. Kat pretty much said the same thing, that Grandpa’s not the type to do things peacefully. So I don’t argue with him, because it’s probably true. But that doesn’t mean that what the Truth stands for, what they’re trying to accomplish, is automatically wrong. “I wasn’t trying to be associated with them. Grandpa took that video without me knowing.”