“So, I saw on the news a man burned himself with a fire poker. He said a collector made him do it to send a message and it said, ‘HK, come to me.’ It’s the first I’ve seen anything about this, but it gave me the creeps. You haven’t heard anything, have you?”
His posture remained calm but the air stilled around us, a clue as to his inner emotions.
“I’m watching the situation. It’s unclear who this Collector is, and what he or she wants. But the Collector is somehow using gifts in vile ways. You don’t need to be concerned about it. We can handle whatever comes our way.” He stared so hard into my eyes that I felt exposed, then he turned to continue his work like the topic wasn’t a big deal.
I stood there, confused and unsure of my emotions. I’d gone from concerned to horny, then admiration.
Maddox didn’t want to push me behind him and protect me like a caveman would. He said “we” in his sentence. “We can handle whatever comes our way.” He saw me as an equal. I hated the thought that being seen as an equal would make me fall to my knees in awe but so many men in our world still thought they ruled over women. They had the right to make decisions for us, hold us back for our protection, and use us for our bodies then tell us what we can do with it. Vessels and property. I’d witnessed it first, as did so many others. Maddox screamed alpha male, but he wasn’t the typical controlling asshole most would associate with the alpha title. He walked with confidence, he didn’t speak much but he considered his words carefully, and he didn’t try to steamroll me in the few days since he’d been here.
The ground seemed to slip out from beneath my bare feet, and I felt unstable.
What in the world was happening?
“Ok,” I muttered, feeling at odds as a singer who wrote songs for a living being rendered speechless by this complex Viking of a man.
“Anything else?” He didn’t look up to see me standing there like an open-mouthed statue, waiting for birds to make a nest in.
“I have to go to the city tomorrow for an interview, and then I’d like to stay for a few nights. I’m sure, by now if you didn’t know already, I’m part of the Hero Society and I’d like to do some good while I’m there.” I left no room for argument in case he wanted to tell me what I planned was dangerous and I shouldn’t be out at night as a superhero.
“I’ll drive.”
I walked into the house, still unable to figure out how I’d fallen through a portal to some type of twilight zone.
Petals fell as I walked, and I remembered I had a flower patch in my afro.
“This is going to be a pain in the ass to get out.” I walked straight to the mirror in my bathroom and began pruning.
Chapter Twelve
Maddox
I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something within Hazel had changed. She didn’t look at me with as much disdain in her eyes. Hope planted itself inside my heart, but only time would tell if it grew into something beautiful.
“This truck is so bad for the environment,” she sneered as she hopped into my truck and reluctantly buckled herself in. Her first reaction to my Toyota Tundra was to call her driver to pick her up, but then realized she wouldn’t draw as much attention to herself in my truck unlike the electric SUV he drove. The less crowd she ran into, the simpler her time in the city would be.
“What sort of mileage does this thing get?”
“About fourteen miles to the gallon city driving. Maybe sixteen or eighteen on the highways.” I figured those numbers were pretty good for a civilian truck. If she hated the mileage on this one, she’d hate the military’s vehicles even more.
“So awful.” She feigned gagging and I smiled. She was still a dramatic woman.
We didn’t talk the rest of the drive to Seahill, and the remainder of the day we kept things completely professional. All banter and sass ceased. I was her bodyguard, and she was the celebrity. Her interview went perfectly in my opinion, not that my opinion on this subject mattered. I liked solitude, and the adrenaline of the Air Force. Being the center of attention like she had grown accustomed to tasted foreign to me.
Hazel had always been a natural in front of crowds, even in jeans and T-shirt with no bra like she sat now. People loved her and the genuineness she presented. She cared about the environment, women’s rights, and people of color. Her passion made anyone who heard her speak want to stand up and fight. In battle she would be the leader giving the speeches that went down in history and rallied those behind her to win. I wanted to follow her into whatever hellhole she’d let me.
We’d dropped our bags off at an apartment she had kept for days like this. The apartment was spacious, with a view of the city but still had her bright flair. Plants and dashes of color decorated the modern apartment. I took one of the spare rooms and she declared she wanted to soak in the bath before we left to grab food. Apparently, an Italian restaurant nearby had a cauliflower pizza she salivated over. Cauliflower pizza, I guess I shouldn’t had thought of following her into any hellhole she wished. I may need to draw the line with some of her vegetarian substitutes, pizza being one of those.
I checked over the schedule Shayla emailed me and saw nothing on there for tonight or tomorrow. In two days, Hazel left for Austin, Texas, to speak at a women’s conference. We’d be there for two days, then head back so she could continue working on her music in peace.
Thirty minutes later, Hazel stepped out of her suite wearing yoga pants and a shirt labeled, Namaste in Bed. I smiled at her sense of humor.
“Ready to go?” she asked.
I powered down my tablet where I’d been searching for any collector news. “Yes.”
She looked me over as I opened the door. Without any doubt, Hazel found me attractive, and if it kept her smiling around me, then I’d use what I had to my advantage.
Our walk to Pizza Piazza took five minutes, and no one had stopped Hazel for an autograph or picture. I’d wager the restaurant would be chaos shortly after we arrived, and I’d have to stand guard while she ate. Apartments sat on top of the restaurant, which led me to believe this place wasn’t a fancy Italian joint but a metropolitan stop where those who lived above could walk down to grab some grub.
