Wendell's POV

The large ballroom that was used for guest speakers, midterm and SAT/ACT testing, transformed into an enchantingly decadent dance hall that boasted of light snacks before the planned dinner in the main dining hall and decorations set to show off our patriotic sides with the colors of red, white, and blue (in all different shades). The main showstoppers were the large chandeliers that were decorated in crystals alongside the large black piano that took the helm of the musicians' bandstand.

And everyone who was anyone came to see and be seen with each other, all dressed up to the nines while the students were dressed in their finest clothes while being reunited with their families and friends from the outside world. The teachers and staff members (the therapists included) came with their loved ones to let their hair down and even the orderlies (save for the few who were assigned to keep the rowdy kids in isolation units) were on hand to enjoy the night.

It was a time to let go of the worries from school and work, to cement dying friendships and rivalries while breathing life into new connections and bonds. And as Logan and I made our way to the center of the ballroom with Dr. St. Pierre accompanying us, I knew that it was also the time when I needed to work my greatness and my courage to perform my musical selections and also face the inevitable showdown against Braeden. "You look so amazing, you two!" Dr. Valenzia said as her large husband nodded in assent. "And Wendell, you look glowing today in that tuxedo! It suits you well."

"Thank you," I preened softly. "I'm excited for tonight and performing for everyone here."

"My wife told me all about your rehearsals," Mr. Valenzia, a large red-headed man with a quiet disposition (Satillo, take notes), piped up. "I was blown away when I saw you perform your favorite song on the piano and I had to come here to see it myself."

"You won't be disappointed," I assured him, smiling faintly. "I've been working on the few songs that I plan to wow and amaze everyone with, including a little tribute to all of the people who have helped me shine."

The older man's eyes lit in recognition. "Ah, yeah. I heard all about how you weren't treated fairly by your late family and betrayed by that ruthless and arrogant man who outed you," he said, frowning. "They're lucky that they all bit the dust, especially that father of yours. I'd put both of his feet in his rear end."

"Well, that's all in the past now," Ms. Whitfield said, looking elegant in a dazzling red and black mermaid-style gown as she and the conservatively-dressed Officer Talbot (with his granddaughter in tow) joined us. "Tonight is all about having fun and enjoying the night."

"I'll drink to that," Logan cheered, motioning for a server to hand us small glasses of nonalcoholic sparkling wine. We all took a small flute and raised them high in a toast. "To a great weekend and a fabulous night."

"Cheers," we all exclaimed, clinking our glasses.

For most of the night, Logan and I made pleasantries with the visiting minor celebrities and politicians who made time out of their busy schedules to pay homage to our school with silent auctions. During that time, I made two lunch dates with three wives of the Seattle Seahawks, scored an offer to play at a charity concert for a technology family, and even talked to various deans from their respective colleges (the University of Washington included!). And all the while, I was keeping my eyes peeled (as instructed by a police guard) out for anything suspicious. A masked guest was constantly on my tail and gave me ominous feels that disappeared as soon as I turned to get a closer look.

All too soon, it was time for me to head to the piano and be joined by Dr. St. Pierre as he called everyone to attention. "Ladies and gentlemen, you may or may not have heard about one of our students that will lead the festivities in a concert of selections," he began as I took my seat at the piano. "This young man in particular was given an unfair chance in life and all because he was more gifted and intellectually enhanced than his own family. Since arriving here, he was refined and cleaning up the scars of his past while letting himself reclaim his life. And now, he's ready to take the stage and blow you all away with the music that helped him heal. Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce to some and present to others Mr. Wendell Harding."

The crowd applauded as the light was focused on me. "Well, well," I said into the microphone. "Are y'all ready for a good time for tonight? I'm going to be honest when I say that your boy right here is on edge in so many ways that I feel like I'm going to toss my cookies."

Everyone laughed.

"But for real, this night is not about me or all of us. It's all about the people here and what Cartier Valley stands for- giving young men a chance to start afresh when the rest of the world is ready to toss us to the side," I went on. "This night is for all of the young men who were suffering from their scars made from poor decisions by their own hands or falling out of touch with families and friends. And this is for all of the parents who sent their kids here to help them recover and be rediscovered in a positive light."

I turned to look into the approving eyes of Logan. "And in my case, this place has been a blessing. I wouldn't be where I am today if it weren't for these people. This first song that I have in mind goes out to-"

"Well, well, well," drawled a familiar and detestable voice. "Looks like Hardass Harding has finally decided to cross over to join the sell-outs!"

The crowd murmured as the lights dimmed. "Satillo," I said. "Let me guess, you're here to take your rightful place? Policemen are surrounding the place, you know."

He snorted. "Please. These idiots are way too dumb to look for me," he spat. "No, no. I'm mainly here to claim you, you little shit! You took Logan from me when I warned you over and over again that he was MINE! M-I-N-E!"

I rolled my eyes in exasperation. "You have lost your marbles," I replied. "Can't you see that he doesn't want you, fool?! Give yourself up and turn yourself in. Save face and accept defeat!"

"NO!" He screamed angrily. "I need you to pay for your sins, Hardass Harding! You, St. Pierre, Sellers, and Valenzia! And the pathetic Guerro brats too! All of you ganged up on me to take what's not yours and I need to finish you off and get rid of you and all of Cartier Valley!"

"Satillo!" Logan bellowed! "Come out wherever you are!"

"Aw, so brave of you to ask," Braeden sneered from his hiding place. "But I don't need you for the moment, babe. I just want those nasty witches and uncle as well as that devil who seduced you. And now, if I may..."

The last thing I remembered was the lights cutting out from all sides before I was hit from behind. I heard screams of fear and Sellers yelling, "Logan, they got us! Send help!" That was all before the waves of chloroform knocked me under in a sea of bliss while a giant crash came from above.

*****************

Logan's POV

"Wendell?! Sellers?! Uncle Lucas?!" I yelled, the darkness making it impossible to see while the partygoers and students were evacuated from the school. I found Officer Talbot and the chief of police from Seattle. "Have either of you-"

"Satillo took them," the latter said gravely. "I had one of my trackers look out from the hidden cameras placed in the school and he's working with some people to take them, the Guerro twins, Valenzia, and Whitfield. He must have snuck in while disguised."

"Where could they have gone?" I asked worriedly. "If that brat lays one finger on-"

"Calm down, boy," Officer Talbott said firmly. "I have a good guess where they must be."

"Where?!" I exclaimed.

"Logan!" I heard the harried and frightened voice of Whitfield as she bounded out from the fleeing crowd and joined us at the south entrance. "Thank God you're okay," she breathed.

"How did you escape?" I asked.

She took a deep breath, obviously fighting the fumes from the chloroform. "I nearly didn't until I managed to fight back against Braeden. I took a chance and ran for it, making sure to stay out of his way. Listen, I know where Wendell is being taken to, him and the others."

"Can you lead us there?" Officer Talbott asked.

She nodded. "And it's where it all began in the first place," she said. "We're heading back to Seattle and you're going to see Wendell's childhood prison that became his home."

"We need to hurry," Talbott said, turning to his walkie-talkie and barking orders for a rescue squad to prepare. "Braeden might be torturing him at any moment."

I nodded. "We need to go, now!"

All right, Satillo, I said in my head as we headed to our respective cars. This means war.

***************

Wendell's POV

"Wakey-wakey, witch!"

I snapped my eyes open to glare into the beady ones of Braeden Satillo, decked out in a top hat, the same tuxedo that the masked man was wearing. "I might have guessed that you were the masked man at the party."

"Damn right," he said gleefully, smirking as I struggled to break from the ropes. "And can you guess where we are right now?"

I looked around to see the now bare walls that were all too familiar. "We're back at my old home," I said. "The same home that became my jailer."

"Correct," Braden drawled, slapping me. "And this is also the same place that I plan to end you right where you stand- or sit, whatever. Anyway, I had a little help from some friends who have your friends."

He snapped his fingers as the door swung open to reveal familiar faces... the ones that left my blood turning into ice cubes.

"Holy fuck," I muttered. "Talk about coming back from the dead!"

"Ah, but can you really call it being dead?" Corey Bellevue said as he came to Braeden's side. "Your family, of course, are already dead, but I faked it so I can join my latest babe in enacting my revenge against you."

Well, talk about being left shook!

Don't think about getting comfortable just yet, folks! Part two of this final showdown is coming up next!

Dedication: TessaTuring.

Vote.
Comment.
Share.
Follow.
Add.
FAN!