When I wake up, the first thing I do is roll over and vomit what little I have left in my stomach from lunch. Judging by the horrible pain in my head and the agony of my leg, I have a concussion and a terrible gunshot wound. I'm most certainly going to bleed out.

For now, there's a tourniquet tied around my thigh, just above the knee, and it's slowed the bleeding considerably. If I don't get help, it won't save me. At this rate, it may be for the best, even if it's a slow, awful way to pass on.

From where I am, I notice I'm in an abandoned house, handcuffed to some pipes. My eyes flutter open, blinking through the haze in my vision. My temple is pounding, and it'll probably only get worse as time goes on. I'm having trouble staying awake, but I push past the disorientation and scan my surroundings with the little light I have.

The place is dusty, the carpet half-ripped up to reveal the floor paneling. The windows are broken, sheeted in plastic and hastily boarded up, casting an eerie glow from the moon. My leg is pulsing, but with all the pain I'm experiencing, it's less prominent than it was initially.

"That's disgusting." Stan grimaces when I'm done emptying my guts out. "I suppose I should've expected you would vomit. Between the blood loss and the head injury, it's no surprise."

I can't concentrate on anything. I'm nauseous, trying desperately not to puke again. I'm shaking too, and my skin is so cold and clammy and pale.

"You look like you're having fun," he muses, chuckling.

It's so bizarre seeing him this way. It's still Stan; he's still got the same face, just less worn out by time. His eyes are the same but they're crueler, and his hair is brown, not grey. Young Stan is menacing, nothing like the man I knew.

"Reed is coming for you. The police should follow. I put a tracker on his phone. I thought I'd give you two some time to think you were one step ahead of me, so I didn't come after you right away." He kneels down so that our faces are level.

I want to spit at him, but I barely have the energy to keep my head up.

"I'm not the only one involved in all this, in case you were wondering, though I did the heavy lifting. I think it's so funny how easy it was to unravel your life with the help of all the people in it. I tricked your roommate into letting me in your apartment and bugged your computer. Stupid girl."

I remember Betsy mentioning that Stan stopped by. I didn't question it. I never had a motive to do so. She was as trusting as I had been, and it cost us both a hell of a lot.

"Now, Chief was innocent and had no idea what was going on behind his back. But the big hack? The thing that started this? Without it, I never would have known you were just like me. And it came from your little boyfriend."

His grin only grows wider at the shock and hurt in my eyes.

"Reed didn't know, of course, what I was looking for, but he was so easy to manipulate. I told him that I needed him to slip my flash drive into the computer for a few seconds so I could copy Chief's files for a 'case' I was working. To this day, he probably believes that's what I was doing. I told Reed that Chief was a suspect, but that he was found innocent after the drive got returned. And you know what? He was so naive that he kept it between us."

I want to tell him that he's a liar and that Joel would never do such a thing, but I know that it's true. Even I would've done it. No one had any reason not to believe in Stan. He made friends with everyone, and his charisma made him easy to befriend.

It was an act. It was bullshit.

My friend is gone. All I feel now for this man is burning hatred.

"And then there was the whole setting your apartment on fire ordeal. That was just for kicks, honestly. I was rooting for you to survive. It's more fun having you alive."

I glare at him. "Fuck. You."

His eyebrows lift. "I didn't realize you could be so feisty, Violet. I'm surprised by you. You should watch that tongue of yours because I'm the one with a gun."

"You won't kill me," I taunt.

"And how can you be sure of that?"

"You need me," I say. "If you wanted to kill me, you would have by now."

He ignores me. He knows I'm right, but his pride won't allow me to admit it. "Do you want to know the best part of this?"

No.

He continues on without any regard for me. It's such a cliche, listening to him ramble about his plot. It's like every villain has to deliver a stupid speech. Then again, he's killing time, trying to make things worse for me.

"The whole time you and Chief believed it was multiple men, but it was really just me. You two are fools. It was so obvious and you never saw it coming!" The laugh Stan gives is so sinister my bones turn to ice.

I believed in my instincts before now. I believed that Chief really did have a handle on the situation. Because of my own naive nature, I allowed myself to be lured into a false sense of security. I was an idiot for letting it progress to this point. I should have run the second we were hacked. Maybe then, I would have a chance.

"Reed is coming for you, Vi." Stan crosses his arms, narrowing his eyes at me. "There's still time for you to make the right choice. This doesn't have to go the way you saw it play out."

"It doesn't need to be like this. We can still make the right choices. Please," I beg. "Please don't hurt Joel. Please don't hurt him."

He slaps me across the face, silencing me. "I don't need this shit from you. It's a yes or no question. There is no alternative. In my world, we all win. We get money, Joel still breathes. All you have to do is share your gift."

"What I do now is enough," I say through gritted teeth. "What I do now helps people just fine. What you're proposing is exploiting innocent people for knowledge that could easily be abused—"

Stan reaches out and ties a gag around my face to keep me from talking anymore. Despite how much I struggle, it's no use.

"I have your answer." He sighs, taking a final look at my face. "Joel Reed is going to die tonight, Violet. And you'll probably bleed out shortly after. Remember that you brought this on yourself. Talk about tough love."

He walks away from me, standing by the window to inspect the empty street. I don't try to scream, I know there's no point. The horrible reality sends my stomach sinking down to my knees. The world is spinning too fast again. I can barely stay awake. I've lost so much blood.

Please, God, if you're really out there, don't let Joel come walking through that door.

Futily, I tug at the cuffs, but they don't come loose. I try to use my teeth to force the gag away, but I don't succeed. Stan planned this well, and he's got me locked down to where I am. I'm hopeless, helpless.

Joel could die.

And it's my fault.

My morals are keeping me from caving in, allowing Stan to make of me what he wants. He's a taker, someone I feared would use my powers for evil. He's the very reason I never tell anyone about what I can do. He's the worst-case scenario that kept me awake at night all of these years. Not everyone is Chief or Joel, and I see that now more than ever.

I love Joel. I realize that now more than ever. I love everything about him, and falling in love with him was inevitable. I tried to keep him away. I tried everything I could to stop this from playing out and it didn't work.

I haven't gotten the chance to tell Joel I love him. That's the worst part. The first, and maybe last time, he'll ever hear me say the words are in dark, impossible circumstances. He doesn't know the gravity of what I feel, at least not in a way that's been acknowledged with words.

There's a sense of peace that comes when you know you are going to die. For a while, I don't want to believe it. It's so hard to just accept it. The reality that I will not live to cure cancer or have kids or even walk down the aisle is one that no individual should have to come to terms with. Yet, as horrible as it sounds, I realize that I don't mind dying here. I've lived a life that almost entirely consisted of pain and horror and suffering. I'm ready to die. I know that I shouldn't be, but I am.

But I'm not ready for Joel to die. The world needs him in it to help other people and benefit humanity with that damned hero complex of his. If one of us walks out of here today, it should be him, not me.

My mouth tastes like blood and that stupid rag stuffed between my lips is making me wish I had that gun in my hands. I would put a round in the back of Stan's head if I could, but I am powerless to stop the awful thing that is happening to me.

"You're a good kid. It's an unfortunate chain of events," Stan says, almost like he actually feels remorse.

I try to convey all the hate I feel for him with my eyes, but feel as though it's not enough.

"I assume he loves you," Stan says as he takes another look out the window. "I also assume he knows that he's going to die coming to your rescue. Yet, according to my tracker, he's doing it anyway. It's very Shakespearean, don't you think?"

He chuckles at himself when he realizes I can't do anything to respond.

"I knew you two were going to grow closer." He sounds almost proud. "He obviously thought you were gorgeous the first time he laid his eyes on you. I did too, honestly, all those months ago. Maybe I would've had a better shot if I looked the way I do now."

His words make my skin crawl. The notion of being with anyone as sick as him disgusts me.

"Reed is an interesting kid. An idealist. He thinks that no matter what, everything is going to come out okay. I wish I shared that same naivete. You two were so perfect, even despite your initial reservations. In hindsight, I don't blame you. Still, here we are. It's even better that you're in love. It makes the whole thing so much more poetic. I'm truly sorry it had to be this way. I think you two would've had the cutest little munchkins."

Hearing him talk about my life, about my relationship, like it's all just a big game to him makes me feel so terrible. Grief is already striking me. I'm weak. I'm fading away every second and all I can do is watch him pace around waving his .22 like some sort of toy.

Suddenly, I hear the sirens just a few blocks over, screaming out into the night. I know for a fact they're coming here, that Joel is with them, that everything I imagined is coming full-circle.

This is it.

I'm sorry, Joel.

I love you.

I'm sorry.

I love you.

I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry.