Darn Stupid Brother You Are

(Angel's POV)

The air in the center felt different that day-heavier somehow, like the walls themselves were pressing in. My nerves were already a mess from the constant pressure of planning the escape and managing my messy emotions between Hendrix and Thomas. Something was coming, I could feel it, but I wasn't prepared for the storm I was about to step into.

It happened in the far wing of the center, the one rarely used except for storage. I had been wandering aimlessly, needing space to think, when I heard voices. Muffled at first, then clearer as I edged closer. Thomas's voice stood out. It was firm and commanding a side of him I rarely saw.

I pressed myself against the wall, heart pounding.

"I told you, I'm working on it. The group trusts me, but I need more time to gather what we need," Thomas said sharply.

Another gruff and impatient voice responded. "Time is running out, Mitchell. If you can't deliver, we'll have to take action ourselves. You know what's at stake here."

Mitchell? My chest tightened. That wasn't his name. What was going on?

I peeked around the corner and saw Thomas speaking to a man I didn't recognize. His posture was tense and defensive. Papers and files were spread out on a table between them, marked with strange symbols and codes. My eyes darted to the corner of the room where a camera blinked steadily.

What was he doing?

The conversation ended abruptly, and Thomas's companion left through a side door. I didn't have time to hide. Thomas turned and froze when he saw me, his face going pale.

"Angel," he barely got my name out.

"What the hell was that?" I demanded and stepped into the room. My voice echoed.

He sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. "You weren't supposed to see that."

I crossed my arms, trying to steady my breathing. "See what, Thomas? You lying to me? Who even are you?"

His jaw clenched, and he avoided my gaze. "It's not what you think."

"Then explain it to me," I said, my voice trembling. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you've been playing me this entire time."

(Thomas's POV)

I ran another hand through my hair. My chest was rising and falling like I'd just run a marathon. I couldn't look at Angel at that moment, not when I was about to say everything I had kept hidden. "Angel, listen... You deserve the truth, and it's long overdue." My voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried the weight of everything I had buried for months.

"My name isn't Thomas Allen. It's Thomas Mitchell," I began, my throat tightening with every word. "I'm not just some guy trying to get by in this hellhole. I'm an undercover operative. I was sent here by a private agency that specializes in dismantling underground organizations. The center? It's not just a place for recovery or rehabilitation as you already know. It's a front. A well-oiled machine hiding illegal operations, organ harvesting and even trafficking. And I was sent here to gather evidence and take them down."

I paused and glanced at her face. Her eyes widened and her breath got shallow as the weight of my confession started to sink in. I pressed on because there was no turning back now. "They knew what this place was long before I came here. The disappearances, the forced treatments, the unusual experiments-they all point to something bigger. But what we didn't know was how deep it ran or who's really pulling the strings. My job was to get close, blend in, and find the answers. That's why I painted that picture of myself-a version of me that you could trust, someone who fit into this place without raising questions. I never meant to hurt you, Angel, but it was the only way."

The words tumbled out faster now as I finally let her see the whole truth. "The center is more dangerous than you realize. The things I've seen, the things they've done to people-it's worse than I ever imagined. And now, I'm running out of time. My cover's starting to crack, and the people in charge are getting suspicious. If I don't act soon, everything we've worked for will fall apart, and more innocent people will suffer."

I finally met her gaze, and the look in her eyes nearly broke me. "I know I lied to you, and I know you might never forgive me, but you have to believe me when I say this-I care about you, Angel. I care more than I ever expected to. And that's why I'm telling you all of this. Because when the time comes, and it will, you're going to have to make a choice. Stay out of this and stay safe, or help me finish what I started."

(Anya's POV)

The words spilled out of him in bursts and each one hit me like a punch. He was an undercover operative, sent to investigate the center and gather evidence on its illegal activities. His real name was Thomas Mitchell, and his life before the center was nothing like the picture he'd painted for me.

"You lied to me about everything," I said as my voice broke.

"No, not everything," he said quickly and stepped toward me. "I never lied about how I feel about you, Angel. That was real. It is real."

I laughed bitterly, shaking my head. "You expect me to believe that? After all this?"

"Please, just listen to me," he pleaded, looking desperate. "Yes, I came here with a mission. But I didn't expect to meet you. I didn't expect to fall in love with you. You changed everything."

"Don't," I snapped as more tears streamed down my face. "Don't you dare use love as an excuse."

"How even old are you?" the question slipped out.

"I turned 24 last month." He replied solemnly.

While silence followed, I was trying my best to breathe.

He reached for me, but I stepped back. "I was trying to protect you," his voice cracked. "Everything I've done has been to keep you safe."

"Safe?" I scoffed. "You've been lying to me from the start. How is that keeping me safe?"

"Because the less you knew, the better," he said. "The people running this place they're dangerous, Angel. They wouldn't hesitate to hurt you if they thought you were a threat." "And what about you?" I asked. "What happens to you if they find out what you're doing?"

His silence was answer enough.

"I can't do this," I whispered and turned away. "I can't trust you anymore."

"Angel, please," he was pleading. "I need you to understand-"

"I understand perfectly," I cut him off. "You used me."

"I love you," he said, so raw and broken.

I paused, my hand on the doorframe. "Maybe you do. But it's not enough."

I left him standing there as the sound of my footsteps echoed in the silence.

•

(Hendrix's POV)

I had been walking past the wing when I heard their voices. The tone in Angel's voice drew me closer, and my curiosity eventually outweighed my reluctance to deal with Thomas.

I stood just out of sight, listening as Angel's world crumbled around her. Thomas's confession was a gut punch, even to me. An undercover operative? It explained so much the secrecy, the...evasiveness, the way he always seemed to hold back when we were all putting ourselves on the line. I had suspected Thomas was hiding something, but this? This was bigger than anything I'd imagined. And Angel-her voice cracked with betrayal and disbelief-it tore at something deep inside me.

I stayed frozen even though every instinct urged me to burst in and stop whatever was happening. But I didn't. I couldn't. This wasn't my moment. Not yet.

When she stormed out, her face pale and designed with tears, she didn't notice me leaning against the corner. My jaw clenched as I watched her walk away, broken. I could see Thomas through the doorway. His head was hung low and his fists were clenched at his sides like he was trying to hold himself together.

What a coward.

I waited a beat before stepping into the room. The moment Thomas looked up and saw me, his expression darkened. "What do you want, Hendrix?"

"Answers," I said sharply as I crossed the room. "But more than that, I want to know how you thought you'd get away with playing everyone here, especially Angel."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "This isn't the time."

"Wrong," I snapped and slammed my hand against the table. "This is the perfect time. You've been lying to us, haven't you? To all of us."

The tension crackled between us. When he met my gaze, I noticed his own eyes were filled with something that almost looked like regret. "I wasn't lying. Not about everything."

I laughed bitterly. "Right. Just the parts that matter, like who you really are and why you're even here."

"You don't get it," his voice was rising. "This isn't about you or me. It's bigger than all of us."noveldrama

"Don't you dare give me that self-righteous crap," I growled. "Angel trusted you. She cared about you, and you used her."

His jaw tightened. "I love her."

Those three words hit me like a bullet. "You don't know the first thing about love."

"You think you're any better?" he shot back and stepped closer. "You're so busy wallowing in your own self-pity that you can't even see how much she's hurting."

"Don't you dare turn this on me," I snapped. "At least I never lied to her. At least I—”

"You what?" he interrupted. "At least you what, Hendrix? Pushed her away? Made her feel guilty for choosing to be happy?"

I froze. His words hit their mark. He smirked and shook his head. "Yeah. That's what I thought."

I stepped closer with clenched fists. "Stay the hell out of my way, Thomas. Whatever game you're playing, it ends now."

"I'm not playing a game," he said. "But if you want to make this a fight, I'll be ready."

I stared at him, my chest heaving with suppressed anger. "You have no idea who you're messing with."

"Neither do you," he said quietly, not letting his gaze leave mine.

I turned on my heel before I lost my temper. My mind was a fusion of anger and confusion. As much as I hated to admit it, Thomas wasn't the only one keeping secrets. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized I couldn't ignore them any longer.

•

I found her in the corridor. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest as she leaned against the wall. She was staring at the floor, her breath uneven. I knew I shouldn't push her, but something about seeing her like this-broken-set me off. "Angel," I called.

She stiffened and glanced up at me with red-rimmed eyes. "Not now, Hendrix."

I ignored her dismissal and stepped closer. "So, this is what it's come to? You fall for the first guy who tells you what you want to hear, and now you're surprised he's been lying to you?"

Her head snapped up, and her eyes narrowed. "Don't, Hendrix. Don't you dare."

"Don't what?" I sneered. "Don't tell the truth? Don't point out how gullible you've been? You think Thomas was here for you? He's been using you, Angel."

"Shut up!" she yelled. "You don't know anything about him."

"Oh, I know plenty," I shot back. "I know he's a liar. I know he's been hiding things from the start. And I know you've been too blinded by whatever this... thing is between you two to see it."

She stepped closer, her face inches from mine. "And what about you, Hendrix? You're perfect, right? You're the one who has it all figured out?"

"I never claimed to be perfect," I said, my voice low and cold. "But at least I didn't lie to you. At least I didn't pretend to be someone I'm not."

She laughed bitterly as she shook her head. "Oh, give me a break. You've been lying to yourself for months. You can't even admit what you really want."

"What I want?" I scoffed. "What I wanted was for us to stay together. For us to "

"To what?" She cut me off. "To live some sick, twisted fantasy where we pretend what we did was normal? Where we ignore the fact that it's wrong?"

"It wasn't wrong," I snapped. "Not to me."

"Well, it is to me," her voice was trembling as she spoke. "And I'm done pretending it's not."

I laughed bitterly and balled my hands into fists. "Right. So instead, you'll play house with Thomas? What, you think he's your knight in shining armor? You think he loves you?"

"He does!" she shouted. "He loves me, and I love him. At least he doesn't make me feel like-like this!"

"Like what?" I demanded and took another step closer. "Say it, Angel. Like what?"

"Like I'm broken!" she cried. "Like I'm some possession you can't let go of."

I froze. Her words were a slap to my face. For a moment, neither of us spoke. The silence was not even suffocating enough.

"You don't get it," I said finally; my voice was quieter but no less intense. "You think he loves you? Fine. But don't come crying to me when he breaks your heart. Because he will. Oh, I mean he already has, hasn't he?"

She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "You don't know him."

"And you didn't know me," I said. "Not really."

She just stared at me. Her lips trembled as if she wanted to say something but couldn't find the words. Finally, she turned and walked away, leaving me standing alone in the empty corridor, thinking of everything that just happened.