The Betrayal of Renegade X (Renegade X, Book 3) (37 page)

“It’s just a rally.” I’m not even sure what people
do
in those.

“It’s not just a rally—it’s the first one. This is the first time that villains from all over Golden City are going to come together, regardless of their differences, and tell each other their stories. I know you think that’s what they’ve been doing online, but talking from behind a computer isn’t the same as getting out there and meeting other villains who share similar experiences. This is a chance for the Truth to reach out to real people and bring them together for one goal. And the heroes are going to be busy with their big gala Saturday night. It’s our best chance to do this without getting interrupted and without putting people in danger. You know how the heroes feel about us, and what their policy is right now. Saturday night’s the only time I can risk getting that many villains together in a public place. We need this to happen, and we need you to be there. The people who come to this thing are going to expect to see you, whether you do the commercial or not. You’ve got a lot of fans, and you’re the one who’s brought them this far. They’re counting on you, Damien, and so am I.”

“Wow. You really think... all that?” It’s flattering. In a “that’s a hell of a lot of pressure” sort of way.

“I really do. And whatever else you have planned, I just don’t see how it compares. So, what do you say we go film ourselves another commercial?”

I
T’S FIVE THIRTY ON Saturday. The Heroes’ Gala starts in an hour and a half, but so does the Truth rally. I really only need to be at the gala for, like, five minutes. I just don’t know which five minutes. Not that it matters anyway because I can’t exactly be seen at the Heroes’ Gala the same night as the rally. Or, like, at all. And the villains need me. The heroes don’t even want me at their event, and they wouldn’t have even if I hadn’t become a spokesperson for the Truth.

Except Riley wants me to be there.

I stop outside the back entrance to the laundromat. Well, to Grandpa’s secret offices behind the laundromat. He’s here, getting ready for the rally tonight, and I figured telling him I might not be there for the
entire
event was better done in person. Or at least it sounded like a better idea when I was contemplating calling him. Now that I’m actually here, I think I would have preferred the phone.

I go inside—Grandpa gave me a key—and dial Riley’s number. Maybe I don’t have to talk to Grandpa about this at all. Maybe—

“Hey, X.” Riley answers on the first ring. He sounds hopeful. It’s a tentative hopeful, but it’s still enough to make me feel like a jerk for what I’m about to say.

“Hey.”

“We’re all getting ready at my house.” There’s some noise in the background, and I hear Zach shouting something that must be hilarious, because then Amelia cracks up.

Sarah’s laughing, too, until she says to Riley, “Tell Renegade he
better
be there.”

“Sarah says—”

“I heard her.”

There’s a pause, and then the background noise gets quiet, and I hear Riley’s door close. “You should come over. Curtis isn’t here, and I think... Maybe my mom would make an exception.”

“For the spokesperson for the Truth? I don’t think so.” If she didn’t want me over there before, there’s no way she wants me there now. “Anyway, I can’t.”

“But you’re going to be there tonight.” He says it as a statement, not a question, as if that will make it true.

“About that.”

“Come on. Don’t—”

“Just hear me out, Perkins. You’re better off if I don’t show up. If I go, it’s going to turn into some scandal. People will be staring all night, shooting dirty looks at our group and taking bad pictures that will be all over the internet. It’s your big night. You don’t want that.”

“You mean
you
don’t want that.”

“You’ve got everybody else going. Sarah and Zach and Amelia and... Mason.” His BFF. “Your mom’s actually leaving the douchebag at home. You really don’t need me there, ruining everything.”

“You already told me you weren’t going. You didn’t need to call again to rub it in.”

“Look, you got that nomination because you were working with Mason, not me. You don’t need me there when you win it, either.”

“Who said I was going to win? And anyway, it’s not about that.”

“I screw things up for you, okay? At school, at home, in the field. I know I already told you I wasn’t going, but I didn’t call to rub it in. I called to tell you I’m s—”

The door flings open so hard, the handle smacks against the wall. Two of grandpa’s thugs shove another guy through the doorway. He’s blindfolded and his mouth is duct taped shut. He’s got on a red-white-and-blue spandex costume. I’ve never seen him before, but it’s pretty obvious he’s a superhero, what with the patriotic colors. He looks like one of those Popsicles you can buy around the Fourth of July.

“You’re what, X?” Riley sounds worn out and more than a little pissed at me. “If you have something to say, just say it already.”

The thugs shove the superhero, hard, and he trips, sprawling forward on the floor. His wrists and knees land with a loud
smack
. He cries out, but his voice is muffled by the duct tape.

What the hell? The two thugs notice me standing there right as Grandpa shouts, “Get him off the ground and into that room! We need him talking! We don’t have time to—”

Grandpa swears when he sees me.

I hang up my phone without looking and slip it into my back pocket.

“What are you doing here?” Grandpa asks, practically growling the words, like he’s not at all pleased to see me. He turns to his thugs before I can answer. “What are you standing around for? Get him out of here!”

They haul the superhero to his feet and march him down the hall.

“What am
I
doing here?” I glare at Grandpa. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“Neither should that superhero!” Electricity fizzes along my spine and up the back of my neck. My blood runs cold, and I feel sick. Not just in my stomach, but all over, like the realization of what I just saw is a poison spreading through me.

Grandpa’s expression is grim. He shakes his head and says, “You really weren’t supposed to see that.”

I
don’t say anything when Grandpa insists on driving me home. Or when we get in the car. He keeps scowling at the clock on the dashboard, like me discovering that superhero and him having to take time out of his busy schedule to make sure I’m not hanging around his office, stumbling onto more secrets, is a huge annoyance.

Not, like, the end of his favorite grandson ever trusting him again, but just really annoying.

“Well?” He sounds extra put out, and he doesn’t look at me. “You going to just sit there, or are you going to ask me about it?”

I press my hands against my knees to stop them from shaking, and because I don’t know what else to do with them. I don’t know how to exist in the same space as him after what he did. “What do you want me to ask? Why you
betrayed
me? Or why you don’t seem to care that you did, just that I found out?”

“You’re sixteen.”

“So? Why is that everyone’s answer to everything? Whenever I call an adult on their crap, that’s their excuse.
You’re only sixteen. You wouldn’t understand.
Like hell I don’t.”

“You’re full of ideals. And you still believe you can get them without compromising.” He glances over at me. “I didn’t want to take that away from you. Not yet. You’ve got plenty of time to learn the truth.”

“The truth? The truth about what? That my grandpa’s a liar?”

“I was protecting you.”

“Yeah, right.”

“The Truth is still giving villains a voice. We’re helping a lot of people. That hasn’t changed. And it means a lot to you, that we’re helping them. That you’re part of it. Don’t think I don’t know that. You get in front of that camera, and anyone can see you’ve got conviction. You believe every word you’re saying. You couldn’t have done that if you knew.”

“So you were just using me.” It’s such an awful statement, even the words taste bad.

“I did what was right.” He says that like he actually believes it. Maybe he does.

I glare at him. “You made me lie to everyone! I said that the Truth doesn’t capture and torture superheroes! The whole city already thinks I’m a liar, that I’m just some half-villain screwup. Or at least they did. And now I finally do something important, something that made me feel like more than just a screwup, like I might actually have some kind of future, and it turns out they were
right
.”

“You’re not a liar, and you’re sure as hell not a screwup.”

“Why should I believe you? Why should I believe you about anything ever again?”

He clenches his jaw, keeping his eyes focused on the road as he turns a corner. “I never intended to let things go this far. But I was retired for years—I was out of the game for too long. I forgot how ruthless you’ve got to be to succeed in this business. Exposing the truth only gets you so far. I wish that was really all it took, but as long as the heroes are going to get violent, the villains have to, too. Things weren’t that peaceful to start with, and we’re inciting a revolution here. You had to know things would get dicey.”

“I’m not an idiot. It’s not like I thought the Truth was all about peace and rainbows or some crap. But kidnapping superheroes? Torturing them? That’s what
they’re
doing to us, and if you’re doing it, too, then you’re no better than they are.”

He laughs. “We’re going for equal rights here. We can’t be equal if we keep letting them oppress us. Or ignore us. I’m not sure which is worse.”

“I went on TV and I said we weren’t doing that! I said we didn’t pretend to stick to some rules, then break them when it’s convenient! You wrote those commercials. You lied to everyone, and you used me to do it.”

“I might have written those words, but you said them better than I ever could. You wanted to make a difference for villains—I gave you that opportunity.” He pulls into the driveway and cuts the engine. “Meeting your goals in life while maintaining your ideals is a luxury. You’ll find that out soon enough as you get older.”

“Being a decent human being isn’t an
ideal
.”

He ignores me and gets out of the car. “We can talk more about it later, but right now, we have an important rally to get ready for. I know this is a lot to take in, and if you’re not comfortable giving a speech—”

I slam the passenger side door as I get out, interrupting him.

He lets out a deep breath, like I’m the one being unreasonable and he shouldn’t have to put up with it. “If you’re not comfortable giving a speech, you can just say a few words. I’ll put together some phrases for sound bites, and you’ll stick to those. All you have to do tonight is look good and smile. You think you can do that?”

Is he serious? I turn my back on him and stomp off into the house. I kind of want to slam the front door, too, but I don’t because I don’t want to upset Grandma. Who probably also knew about what Grandpa was doing and didn’t tell me.

Grandpa follows me inside, his own footsteps pretty heavy, if not also stomping. “You can lose your temper and do the sullen teenager thing tomorrow, when you don’t have a crowd of people waiting for you.”

“I’m not going to the stupid rally! I don’t know how you can even think that after what just happened!”

“Because what happened doesn’t change our goals. And it doesn’t change how important tonight is!”

Grandma comes in from the kitchen. She’s obviously been to the salon today, because her hair’s a stunning red now—more like her natural color I’ve seen in pictures—instead of pink. “What is going on here?”

“The boy found out,” Grandpa says.

“
The boy
is right here!” I shout.

Grandma’s mouth shrinks into an
O
shape for a moment. Then she recovers. “Honestly, Alistair, it’s about time. You couldn’t keep him in the dark forever.”

“I could try. And tonight! Why did it have to be tonight? The last thing we need at the rally is our spokesperson sulking and acting out.”

“Great,” I tell him, “because I’m not going.”

“It’s not up for debate.”

“I already told you I had plans tonight. With a superhero friend. My
best
friend. And you know what? He wouldn’t lie to me.” Give Mason my number to trick me into calling him? Sure. But at least he’s honest. “Tonight’s important to him, too, and I was actually going to ditch him for your stupid rally.” Which I’m pretty sure makes me the worst person in the world. Or at least the worst half-villain ex superhero partner.

“Damien. You’re going to that rally tonight, or else you’re not going anywhere.”

“You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do. I’m going out. To the Heroes’ Gala,” I add, just to see how much that pisses him off.

“
No
.” Grandpa’s expression darkens, and a muscle on the side of his face twitches. He exchanges a worried look with Grandma, and I get the feeling they’re still keeping something from me.

Grandma gives me the kind of stern look she usually reserves for Xavier. “You’re absolutely not going to the Heroes’ Gala.”