Imagine Me (Shatter Me Book 6)
Imagine Me: Chapter 14

Kenji

I stop short at the door.

Warner is here.

Warner and James, together.

James was given his own private section of the MT—which is otherwise full and cramped—and the two of them are here, Warner sitting in a chair beside James’s bed, James propped up against a stack of pillows. I’m so relieved to see him looking okay. His dirty-blond hair is a little too long, but his light, bright blue eyes are open and animated. Still, he looks more than a little tired, which probably explains the IV hooked up to his body.

Under normal circumstances, James should be able to heal himself, but if his body is drained, it makes the job harder. He must’ve arrived malnourished and dehydrated. The girls are probably doing what they can to help speed up the recovery process. I feel a rush of relief.

James will be better soon. He’s such a strong kid. After everything he’s been through—

He’ll get through this, too. And he won’t be alone.

I glance again at Warner, who looks only marginally better than the last time I saw him. He really needs to wash that blood off his body. It’s not like Warner to overlook basic rules of hygiene—which should be proof enough that the guy is close to a full-on breakdown—but for now, at least, he seems okay. He and James appear to be deep in conversation.

I remain at the door, eavesdropping. It only belatedly occurs to me that I should give them privacy, but by then I’m too invested to walk away. I’m almost positive Anderson told James the truth about Warner. Or, I don’t know, exactly. I can’t actually imagine a scenario in which Anderson would gleefully reveal to James that Warner is his brother, or that Anderson is his dad. But somehow I can just tell that James knows. Someone told him. I can tell by the look on his face.

This is the come-to-Jesus moment.

This is the moment where Warner and James finally come face-to-face not as strangers, but as brothers. Surreal.

But they’re speaking quietly, and I can only catch bits and pieces of their conversation, so I decide to do something truly reprehensible: I go invisible, and step farther into the room.

The moment I do, Warner stiffens.

Shit.

I see him glance around, his eyes alert. His senses are too sharp.

Quietly, I back up a few steps.

“You’re not answering my question,” James says, poking Warner in the arm. Warner shakes him off, his eyes narrowed at a spot a mere foot from where I’m standing.

“Warner?”

Reluctantly, Warner turns to face the ten-year-old. “Yes,” he says, distracted. “I mean— What were you saying?”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” James says, sitting up straighter. The bedsheets fall down, puddle in his lap. “Why didn’t you say anything to me before? That whole time we lived together—”

“I didn’t want to scare you.”

“Why would I be scared?”

Warner sighs, stares out the window when he says, quietly, “Because I’m not known for my charm.”

“That’s not fair,” James says. He looks genuinely upset, but his visible exhaustion is keeping him from reacting too strongly. “I’ve seen a lot worse than you.”

“Yes. I realize that now.”

“And no one told me. I can’t believe no one told me. Not even Adam. I’ve been so mad at him.” James hesitates. “Did everyone know? Did Kenji know?”

I stiffen.

Warner turns again, this time staring precisely in my direction when he says, “Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

“Son of a bitch,” I mutter, my invisibility melting away.

Warner almost smiles. James’s eyes go wide.

This was not the reunion I was hoping for.

Still, James’s face breaks into the biggest smile, which—I’m not going to lie—does wonders for my self-esteem. He throws off the covers and tries to jump out of bed, barefoot and oblivious to the needle stuck in his arm, and in those two and a half seconds I manage to experience both joy and terror.

I shout a warning, rushing forward to stop him from ripping open the flesh of his forearm, but Warner beats me to it. He’s already on his feet, not so gently pushing the kid back down.

“Oh.” James blushes. “Sorry.”

I tackle him anyway, pulling him in for a long, excessive hug, and the way he clings to me makes me think I’m the first to do it. I try to fight back a rush of anger, but I’m unsuccessful. He’s a ten-year-old kid, for God’s sake. He’s been through hell. How has no one given him the physical reassurance he almost certainly needs right now?

When we finally break apart, James has tears in his eyes. He wipes at his face and I turn away, trying to give him privacy, but when I take a seat at the foot of James’s bed I catch a flash of pain steal in and out of Warner’s eyes. It lasts for only half a second, but it’s enough to make me feel bad for the guy. And it’s enough to make me think he might be human again.

“Hey,” I say, speaking to Warner directly for the first time. “So what, uh— What are you doing here?”

Warner looks at me like I’m an insect. His signature look. “What do you think I’m doing here?”

“Really?” I say, unable to hide my surprise. “That’s so decent of you. I didn’t think you’d be so . . . emotionally . . . responsible.” I clear my throat. Smile at James. He’s studying us curiously. “But I’m happy to be wrong, bro. And I’m sorry I misjudged you.”

“I’m here to gather information,” Warner says coldly. “James is one of the only people who might be able to tell us where my father is located.”

My compassion quickly turns to dust.

Catches fire.

Turns to rage.

“You’re here to interrogate him?” I say, nearly shouting. “Are you insane? The kid has only barely recovered from unbelievable trauma, and you’re here trying to mine him for information? He was probably tortured. He’s a freaking child. What the hell is wrong with you?”

Warner is unmoved by my theatrics. “He was not tortured.”

That stops me cold.

I turn to James. “You weren’t?”

James shakes his head. “Not exactly.”

“Huh.” I frown. “I mean, don’t get me wrong—I’m thrilled—but if he didn’t torture you, what did Anderson do with you?”

James shrugs. “He mostly left me in solitary confinement. They didn’t beat me,” he says, rubbing absently at his ribs, “but the guards were pretty rough. And they didn’t feed me much.” He shrugs again. “But honestly, the worst part was not seeing Adam.”

I pull James into my arms again, hold him tight. “I’m so sorry,” I say gently. “That sounds horrible. And they wouldn’t let you see Adam at all? Not even once?” I pull back. Look him in the eye. “I’m so, so sorry. I’m sure he’s okay, little man. We’ll find him. Don’t worry.”

Warner makes a sound. A sound that seems almost like a laugh.

I spin around angrily. “What the hell is wrong with you?” I say. “This isn’t funny.”

“Isn’t it? I find the situation hilarious.”

I’m about to say something to Warner I really shouldn’t say in front of a ten-year-old, but when I glance back at James, I pull up short. James is rapidly shaking his head at me, his bottom lip trembling. He looks like he’s about to cry again.

I turn back to Warner. “Okay, what is going on?”

Warner almost smiles when he says, “They weren’t kidnapped.”

My eyebrows fly up my forehead. “Say what now?”

“They weren’t kidnapped.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t.”

“This is not the time, bro. Tell me what’s going on.”

“Kent tracked down Anderson on his own,” Warner says, his gaze shifting to James. “He offered his allegiance in exchange for protection.”

My entire body goes slack. I nearly fall off the bed.

Warner goes on: “Kent wasn’t lying when he said he would try for amnesty. But he left out the part about being a traitor.”

“No. No way. No fucking way.”

“There was never an abduction,” Warner says. “No kidnapping. Kent bartered himself in exchange for James’s protection.”

This time, I actually fall off the bed. “Barter himself—how?” I manage to drag myself up off the floor, stumbling to my feet. “What does Adam even have to barter with? Anderson already knows all our secrets.”

It’s James who says quietly, “He gave them his power.”

I stare at the kid, blinking like an idiot.

“I don’t understand,” I say. “How can you give someone your power? You can’t just give someone your power. Right? It’s not like a pair of pants you can just take off and hand over.”

“No,” Warner says. “But it’s something The Reestablishment knows how to harvest. How else do you think my father took Sonya’s and Sara’s healing powers?”

“Adam told them what he can d-do,” James says, his voice breaking. “He told them that he can use his power to turn other people’s powers off. He thought it m-might be useful to them.”

“Imagine the possibilities,” Warner says, affecting awe. “Imagine how they might weaponize a power like that for global use—how they could make such a thing so powerful they could effectively shut down every single rebel group in the world. Reduce their Unnatural opposition to zero.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

I think I’m going to pass out. I actually feel faint. Dizzy. Like I can’t breathe. Like this is impossible. “No way,” I’m saying. I’m practically breathing the words. “No way. Not possible.”

“I once said that Kent’s ability was useless,” Warner says quietly. “But I see now that I was a fool.”

“He didn’t want to do it,” James says. He’s actively crying now, the silent tears moving down his face. “I swear he only did it to save me. He offered the only thing he had—the only thing he thought they’d want—to keep me safe. I know he didn’t want to do it. He was just desperate. He thought he was doing the right thing. He kept telling me he was going to keep me safe.”

“By running into the arms of the man who abused him his whole life?” I’m clutching my hair in my hands. “This doesn’t make any sense. How does this— How—? How?”

I look up suddenly, realizing.

“And then look what he did,” I say, stunned. “After everything, Anderson still used you as bait. He brought you here as leverage. He would’ve killed you, even after everything Adam gave up.”

“Kent was a desperate idiot,” Warner says. “That he was ever willing to trust my father with James’s well-being tells you exactly how far gone he was.”

“He was desperate, but he’s not an idiot,” James says angrily, his eyes refilling with tears. “He loves me and he was just trying to keep me safe. I’m so worried about him. I’m so scared something happened to him. And I’m so scared Anderson did something awful to him.” James swallows, hard. “What are we going to do now? How are we going to get Adam and Juliette back?”

I squeeze my eyes shut, try to take deep breaths. “Listen, don’t stress about this, okay? We’re going to get them back. And when we do, I’m going to murder Adam myself.”

James gasps.

“Ignore him,” Warner says. “He doesn’t mean it.”

“Yes, I damn well do mean it.”

Warner pretends not to hear me. “According to the information I gathered just moments before you barged in here,” he says calmly, “it sounds like my father was holding court back in Sector 45, just as Sam predicated. But he won’t be there now, of that I’m certain.”

“How can you be certain of anything right now?”

“Because I know my father,” he says. “I know what matters most to him. And I know that when he left here, he was severely, gruesomely injured. There’s only one place he’d go in a state like that.”

I blink at him. “Where?”

“Oceania. Back to Maximillian Sommers, the only person capable of piecing him back together.”

That stops me dead. “Oceania? Please tell me you’re joking. We have to go back to Oceania?” I groan. “Dammit. That means we have to steal another plane.”

“We,” he says, irritated, “aren’t doing anything.”

“Of course we—”

Just then, the girls walk in. They come up short at the sight of me and Warner. Two sets of eyes blink at us.

“What are you doing here?” they ask at the same time.

Warner is on his feet in an instant. “I was just leaving.”

“I think you mean we were just leaving,” I say sharply.

Warner ignores me, nods at James, and heads for the door. I’m following him out of the room before I remember, suddenly—

“James,” I say, spinning around. “You’re going to be okay, you know that, right? We’re going to find Adam and bring him home and make all of this okay. Your job from here on out is to relax and eat chocolate and sleep. All right? Don’t worry about anything. Do you understand?”

James blinks at me. He nods.

“Good.” I step forward to plant a kiss on the top of his head. “Good,” I say again. “You’re going to be just fine. Everything is going to be fine. I’m going to make sure everything is fine, okay?”

James stares up at me. “Okay,” he says, wiping away the last of his tears.

“Good,” I say for the third time, and nod, still staring at his small, innocent face. “Okay, I’m going to go make that happen now. Cool?”

Finally, James smiles. “Cool.”

I smile back, giving him everything I’ve got, and then dart out the door, hoping to catch Warner before he tries to rescue J without me.

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