The blaring alarm assaulted my ears, its piercing wail reverberating off the cold, sterile prison walls. The acrid smell of sweat and disinfectant filled my nostrils as I pulled the crumpled map from my pouch, the paper rough against my gloved fingers.

"Well, this is just great," I said, injecting sarcasm into the tense situation. "We break into a heavily guarded prison, take down a bunch of guards, and finally find where they're holding my ex. There's no way we're stuck because the door won't open." I let out a long sigh and looked at my team, their faces a mix of determination and anxiety in the harsh lighting that did nothing for our makeup.

Natalie shrugged, her eyes darting around for potential threats, her perfectly styled hair somehow still immaculate despite our ordeal. "I guess we'll just have to find another way to get Elijah out of here. Maybe we can dig a tunnel with our perfectly manicured nails? I'm sure the prison provides complimentary nail files."

Jasmine added, her voice strained from overusing her powers, tiny beads of sweat dotting her forehead, "Or chip away at the concrete wall with a screwdriver? I'm sure I've got one in my utility belt, right next to my lip gloss and emergency tiara."

"Or maybe if we let the giggling Madison in here, she could have just melted the door with her heat touch." I rolled my eyes, picturing our bubbly teammate probably reapplying her lipstick in the getaway van. "I mean, it's not like we have a deadline or anything. We could just hang out here all night, maybe order some pizza? I hear prison cafeteria food is to die for."

Hannah's voice crackled over the comm, barely audible over the alarm. "It's... kay.... one door left.... Elijah's cell.......... go fast, the alarm... alert.... superzeros."

My stomach knotted, a mix of anticipation and dread swirling inside me. One more door until I had to face the past I avoided like a dirty table at a restaurant. The memories of Elijah and I, once so sweet, now tasted bitter in my mouth.

We jogged down the corridor, trying to act cool despite the loud clanking of our boots against the linoleum floors. The next door was no match for Jasmine and her trusty gadgets. Thank goodness she had a thing for a specific nerdy electronics expert. Hopefully, he remained discreet about our suspicious purchases, but he seemed to have a thing for Jasmine, too. As long as she flirted a bit, and kept waving those magical ta-tahs at him, we should be golden. When Jasmine attached the device to the security pad, the red display started ticking down. Seven... Six... Five...

Above us was a line of cameras, which had been hacked by Hannah from our secret lair, but these flashed red, showing they were live. Maybe her hack hadn't worked this whole time? Or the guards noticed the loop she put on and overrode the system. Either way, people were watching us. "Let's give them a good debut pic for the news." I said with a smile, pushing down the anxiety bubbling in my chest. "We have three secs."

So, we struck our best poses, trying to look tough while slicking back our water-logged hair, sticking out our leather clad butts, and making pouty lips. There was always time for a good photo op. But only for a second. I couldn't help but wonder what Elijah would think if he saw me now, playing dress-up and breaking the law. How times had changed.

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The pad sizzled, but this time the door didn't move. We had to pry it open ourselves, the metal groaning in protest. Madison probably would have broken all her nails trying to do it, which was another reason she stayed behind in the getaway van. Poor girl's nails just aren't made for this kind of work. I could almost hear her chirping, "But guys, my manicure!"

We readied ourselves for what lay behind the last door, but there was nothing but a wall of cells. The two guards sat in the center of the room in their own little booth, staring at the monitor like they were the judges on 'The Voice' and we were the auditioning contestants.

Then they slowly looked up, like they didn't believe what they had just watched on the screen.

"It's like a real-live version of 'Big Brother', isn't it?" I laughed, striking a pose and ignoring the butterflies in my stomach. "Are we ready for our close-up? Or should I do my talent portion now?"

The two guards' shoulders shot up to their ears, and they stumbled back into their chairs like they had just seen a ghost. The skinny one got up and locked the door to their booth, his keys jangling nervously. The other instantly had the phone up to his ear, probably calling Ghostbusters.

Smart men. Though I doubted even Ghostbusters could handle us.

"You get Elijah out and I'll keep Curly and Moe busy," Natalie said, her eyes already glowing with telepathic energy. She smirked, adding, "I'll make them think they're contestants on 'The Bachelor'. That should keep them occupied."

"Hurry," Hannah buzzed in my earpiece, her usual authoritative tone tinged with urgency. "They're alerting the guards where you are. And I can't hold this weather distraction forever. Even I have limits, you know."

I ignored the obvious, my stomach sick knowing that our country's most notorious supervillains were in this room, staring at me. Their eyes boring into me, a mix of curiosity, lust, and maybe a hint of respect.

And one of them was my ex.

But the catcalls and cheers that rang in my ears?

Those I ate up.

Nothing like a good leather costume to make all your cellulite disappear. Take that, ice cream addiction!

"I've always had a thing for bad girls. Want to add me to your list of crimes?" Came from a burly man to my left, his voice hoarse.

"Come on over here and let me see what's under that mask," called a skinny little guy with an exceptionally deep voice on the other side of the room. Talk about a voice not matching the package.

"Hey sweetheart, why don't you let me out of here and we can go on a crime spree together?" Came from somewhere behind me. "I promise I'll be a perfect gentleman."

And the whistles and hoots faded into the background when my legs turned to jelly as I adjusted my mask and watched Jasmine make her way past the guard station and into the corner to cell 132. "Come on," she yelled, glancing over her shoulder like she was leading a Conga line. "Last one there has to explain this mess to the police!"

Yes. I had to do this. There was no turning back now. No matter how much I wanted to fly away and pretend this wasn't happening.

Step by step, I made my way to my ex, watching the ground as I walked, the cold floor seeming to seep through my boots.

When I finally mustered up the courage to look into Elijah's vibrant green eyes, I couldn't help but feel my heart break. The last year had clearly taken a toll on him. Those eyes that once looked at me with such love and adoration now held a mix of confusion, anger, and something else I couldn't quite place.

As much as having a sexy man shackled to a wall was every woman's fantasy, this was a far cry from any kind of dream come true. Unless you counted nightmares.

Because the last year of hell Elijah went through was all too apparent in his eyes.

And worst of all?

It was all my fault he was here.

The weight of my choices, the path that led us both here, settled on my shoulders like a lead cape. I wanted to reach out, to touch him, to explain everything. But I knew I couldn't. Not yet. Maybe not ever.