The Truth Bleed

Chapter Thirteen:

The moment the door shut behind us, an eerie silence filled the cottage—too heavy, too expectant. The woman who opened the door—Liam’s mother, apparently—had vanished deeper into the house, leaving behind the scent of cedar and something darker. Secrets, maybe.

Liam led me into a stone-walled living room where the fireplace glowed faintly. His mother stood by it, pouring a deep amber liquid into two glasses. She didn’t offer me one.

“She thinks I’m the enemy,” I muttered.

“She doesn’t trust anyone,” Liam replied, voice low. “She has her reasons.”

“Speak up, boy,” his mother snapped without turning around. “If she’s going to inherit the fire, she should hear the sparks.”

I narrowed my eyes. “The fire?”

She finally turned, drink in hand. “Your father’s legacy. The reason you’re being hunted. The truth Liam’s been trying to hide.”

Liam tensed beside me. “Not hide. Delay. There’s a difference.”

She arched a silver brow. “Delay long enough and you’re no better than the ones who buried it.”

“Enough.” I stepped forward. “No more riddles. Tell me why I’m the target. What’s in that vault that everyone wants?”

She studied me like I was a puzzle only she could solve. “How much do you know about your father’s involvement with the Alliance?”

“He founded it. Then he left. Or died trying.”

She snorted. “He didn’t just found it. He designed it. The vault? That was never just data. It’s a blueprint. For control.”

“Control of what?”

“Global surveillance. Financial systems. Military protocols. All buried behind genetic encryption that only your bloodline can break.”

I felt like the ground tilted beneath me. “So that’s why Scarlett wants me. Why she’s... manipulating everything.”

Liam’s mother nodded. “You’re the last authentic Redmond. The final key.”

My heart slammed against my ribs. “You said my father died protecting the vault.”

Liam moved beside me. “He did. But there’s something you don’t know.”

I turned to him, pulse quickening. “What is it?”

He glanced at his mother. She gave a slight nod.

“He didn’t die alone,” Liam said. “He died... with my father.”

The room went still. My breath caught.

“Wait... your father and mine—?”

“Were best friends,” he finished. “And enemies in the end.”

I stepped back, the truth slicing through me. “You’ve known this all along.”

“I didn’t want it to define us,” Liam said quickly. “I never wanted you to look at me and see the past.”

“But it is the past,” I snapped. “And I’ve been running blind through it.”

His mother stepped between us. “This is not the time for sentiment. Scarlett knows you’re here. She’ll come, and she won’t be alone.”

Liam clenched his fists. “We have until morning, maybe less.”

I looked between them. “So what’s the plan?”

She smiled—a cold, calculating smile. “We use the decoy. But we make her believe it’s real. You’ll give her what she wants, Isla... just not in the way she expects.”

“That’s suicide.”

“No,” she said, turning to open a concealed panel near the fireplace. “It’s theater. And Scarlett’s always loved a performance.”

Inside the panel was a vault of its own. Smaller, sleeker. She pulled out a handheld device with twin slots. One for data. One for blood.

“Built this before the collapse,” she said. “It simulates a Redmond signature for a few minutes. Just long enough to sell a lie.”

“But if she figures it out…”

“She won’t,” Liam cut in. “We won’t give her time.”

I crossed my arms. “And what happens after we hand her the fake?”

“Then,” his mother said, “we make a trade. Scarlett for the truth.”

Night fell like a warning.

Liam and I stood by the cottage’s edge, watching lights flicker in the distance—shadows moving beyond the tree line.

“They’re circling,” he said. “She’s close.”

I swallowed. “Do you think she’ll come alone?”

“She wants you alive,” he replied. “But she’ll bring monsters to make sure she stays that way.”

We had less than ten minutes before the decoy’s charge would begin. Every second pulsed like a heartbeat in my throat.

“I don’t trust her,” I whispered.

“You’re not supposed to,” Liam said. “Trust me instead.”

“I want to. I just…” I looked at him. “This can’t be another lie.”

He stepped closer. “Then let me prove it.”

But before I could answer, a figure broke through the treeline.

Scarlett.

Alone.

Dressed in a hooded coat, her silhouette sleek, her presence overwhelming.

“I came unarmed,” she called.

“Liar,” Liam muttered.

Scarlett stopped a few feet away. Her eyes found mine. “You look tired, Isla. You’ve been through a lot.”

I stepped forward. “You don’t get to play the concerned godmother.”

“I never stopped protecting you.”

“By blowing up my apartment? Sending men after me?”

“That was never the plan,” she said. “The Alliance splintered. I lost control. But with the vault—”

“You get it back,” I cut in.

She smiled softly. “You sound just like him.”

“My father?”

“No. Me.”

Her gaze flicked to the device in my hand.

“You brought it.”

I lifted it slowly. “But it’s not free.”

Scarlett raised a brow. “Name your price.”

“Truth. All of it. Why did the Alliance fall? Why did my father die?”

She hesitated. “Because they betrayed him. Because I... betrayed him.”

I blinked. “You?”

“I tried to stop him from destroying it all. I failed. And I lost both him and myself.”

I stared at her. “And now you want to finish what he started?”

“No,” she said. “I want to stop it. The Alliance is rebuilding under new hands. If they get the vault, they’ll do worse than we ever imagined.”

I felt the weight of the device in my hand.

Liam’s voice was a low warning beside me. “Don’t believe her.”

Scarlett’s eyes softened. “You’ve seen the damage already. How much more do you want to lose?”

I held out the device.

She reached for it.

But just before our fingers touched, the device blinked red—an alert only we could see.

Simulation error.

Her eyes narrowed.

“You lied,” she whispered.

Suddenly, she lunged—not for me, but for Liam.

He was faster.

A gunshot echoed.

Then everything erupted.

Figures emerged from the woods—masked, armored, weapons drawn. Liam shoved me back as the cottage burst into flames.

“Run!” he roared.

But Scarlett grabbed me by the arm. “You’re not going anywhere!”

I struggled, heart pounding, when suddenly—*

A second shot rang out.

Scarlett jerked back, clutching her shoulder.

Liam dragged me toward a fallen ATV behind the house.

“We need to move—now!”

“Where—”

“To the drop zone,” he growled, revving the engine. “They weren’t supposed to find us this fast. We’re compromised.”

The vehicle roared through the trees, branches whipping past us.

Behind, fire consumed the safe house. Scarlett’s scream echoed in the darkness.

And then—radio static crackled from Liam’s wrist comm.

A voice spoke.

“Target secured. Initiate Phase Three.”

I turned to Liam. “What did they mean? What’s Phase Three?”

He didn’t answer.

He couldn’t.

Because up ahead, the road vanished—blown apart in a smoking crater.

He slammed the brakes.

Too late.

We flew.

The world spun.

And then—blackness.

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