That was it. The game was over, and Roman had lost. His mind whirred with a million different thoughts, but only one was loud enough to break through the noise:
At least it’s me and not Wyatt.
Chapter 32
Wyatt Hernandez
It should have been me.
The thought played on a loop in Wyatt’s head. It tortured him, growing louder and louder with every repetition.
Everyone in the van was silent as a dead rat. No one spoke, no one coughed, no one even breathed. They had fucked up, and they’d lost two of their own because of it. Roman and Bang Bang, both cuffed and jailed. Wyatt looked out the window, Mustang driving on the freeway as quick as she could, putting distance between them and the museum. The Hollywood hills surrounded them, like a physical wall wanting to further separate Wyatt from Roman.
It should have been me.
“Huh?” Mustang asked, knuckles pale against the steering wheel.
“It should have been me,” Wyatt repeated out loud, the words strangled by a rogue cry. “Roman drew the cops off of me—it gave a chance for Mimic to save me, but it meant catching him. It should have been me.”
“Really? So you think you’d be able to handle being taken into a maximum-security prison, being held with the worst of the fucking worst?”
Wyatt tried to answer but couldn’t find the words. Or rather the word “no.” He wouldn’t have been able to handle that at all, but at least Roman would be out. The Rainbow’s Seven wouldn’t be missing their leader. He knew Roman would have a plan to get him and Bang Bang out by nightfall.
Instead, it was Roman behind bars, the rest of the Rainbow’s Seven left out to dry. How could they come up with any sort of plan when their head was chopped off?
“Be grateful, Salt.” It was Phantom, sitting directly behind him. “Roman did it to save you.”
“I know, I know. I just… fuck. Fuck.” Wyatt hit his head against the headrest.
“Can’t we prove it wasn’t us?” Doc asked. “We weren’t even in California last night. Can’t they look at our plane tickets and see it was a setup?”
Mimic shook her head, setting her phone down, images of the California State Prison taking up the entire screen. “I don’t think the LAPD or the FBI are going to listen to a single thing any of us have to say. They’ve got video footage, and I’m sure Leonidas somehow got our DNA all over the bombs. Plus, the fact that we ran out of there doesn’t help our case.”
“So what do we do?” Doc asked.
More silence, broken by a curse from Mustang as she looked up, spotting a police helicopter, likely looking through the highway for a van matching the description of the one spotted darting away from the museum.
Too bad for the cops, Mustang had a replacement vehicle waiting for them. The switch had gone fine, their black van now a white SUV. Still, Mustang clearly didn’t want to land on their radar. She took the next exit, landing them somewhere in the Valley.
Wyatt lowered the window and took in a deep breath. He had to fight through the darkness that clouded his thoughts. There’d be time later for sadness and regret, but right now, Roman and Bang Bang needed them. They couldn’t act as if it was all over. Wyatt knew that wasn’t how Roman would have handled the situation. He’d likely have ten different plans already drawn up, each one better than the last.
“We break them out.” Wyatt answered Doc’s question over the sound of wind rushing into the car. His shoulders weren’t shaking, and neither was his voice. Maybe he could do this?
“How?” Mustang asked. “We’re already wanted criminals.”
“So that makes things easier for us,” Wyatt said, finding more and more confidence with every word. “We’ve got nothing to lose and everything to gain. Logically, that’s one of the best positions to be in.”
“Logic isn’t going to solve this one,” Phantom said. “None of this shit makes any fucking sense.” His jaw clenched, along with the fists balled in his lap. He must have been going through a gamut of emotions after finding out his sister was the one who’d betrayed them, and for reasons she couldn’t really help. It was a twisted situation that would likely need years of therapy to get over.
Wyatt didn’t respond to Phantom, his mind focused on the hundred different threads beginning to form one clear tapestry in his head. He understood how turbulent Phantom’s emotions must have been and didn’t blame him for that. Mustang also looked shaken, along with Mimic. Doc appeared composed but tight-lipped, shock likely filtering through her in a different way than the others.
Wyatt had to take the lead. In order to save Bang Bang and Roman, he had to step into his shoes. It would be a large departure from how Wyatt viewed himself, but that couldn’t stop him from at least trying.