“What do I have to say to stop this conversation?”
“His name.”
“Aiden.”
“I took you more for a Marcus. Maybe a Deshawn.”
Lei would continue to take her jabs. Messing with me was her primary job, and she was more skilled at sarcasm than being a medic. She was a riot most of the time until her boredom turned toward me and she poked the bear. I enjoyed a good ribbing, but she had a knack for getting under the skin. Being partnered with her was my ticket into heaven… if I didn’t kill her.
I couldn’t argue with her. My mind was altogether elsewhere. Aiden was a pleasant distraction, something to takemy mind away from the incident at the bank. I couldn’t explain what had happened, how the bullets hadn’t torn through my skin. Backpedaling through the events leading up to it, it all came down to Prometheus’ death in the back of the ambulance.
I rubbed the bandage on my left arm. I probably should have tested it with a needle before using a box cutter. Not only did it leave a nasty gash I had to stitch myself, the throbbing pain reminded me I was anything but a superhero.
“Supervillain,” I mumbled, returning to the conversation.
“Where?”
I held up my phone. “Aiden.” For a fledgling reporter, he certainly took his job seriously. He hoped to crack this story and launch his career. Unfortunately, the next message was about as soul-crushing as they came.
A: Vex took me off the story. Another reporter got the assignment. Bleh.
X: Want me to beat up Vex?
“Oh dear God,” Lei said. “You even grin while you’re texting him.” She reached down to her belt, tearing at the velcro, peeling it back as she wiggled about, trying to pull it through the loops.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to strangle myself. This is not okay. I like myXander full of piss and vinegar. Xander in love, I can’t bear it.”
A: Dude is pretty damned scary. Think you can win?
X: I haven’t thrown a fist where I didn’t win.
A: Anger management issues. Noted.
I think the text message was him being playful. Did he think I was angry enough that it’d be a problem? Okay, perhaps I yelled far more than was appropriate. But it wasn’t like I had punched anybody, at least not in the last week.
A: He believes it’s a villain. Government contact says they’re scrambling to prepare for whatever comes next.
“What does he have to say? Do they know which villain did it? I bet it was Backtrack. He’s always trying to change the past. What about Pagania? She opened that portal to Hell once? Oh God, do you remember that? Everything smelled of sulfur.”
The memory alone caused a foul stench, forcing me to wrinkle my nose. “I had ash in my socks for a week.”
Lei and I had seen some weird shit over the years. I might have gripes with superheroes, but it allowed me to experience some unusual things. Except, now without heroes, we sat across the street from a bagel shop, praying that a vigilante broke a bone and called for help.
“He’s been chasing leads since it started and nothing. I’m rooting for him. A solid article like that could land him his dream job.”
“Listen to you.” She jabbed me in the arm. “You’re sweet on him. And here I thought you just swapped photos in jockstraps.”
I snorted. Not because she was wrong. I had spent yesterday posing in front of a mirror taking photos of just that. I hadn’t worked up the courage to send them. Hard to be playful when the world was in crisis. Maybe tonight I’d give him a taste of what he’d get in the bedroom.
X: Stay safe out there.
A: Aww. You care.
X: I still owe you coffee.
A: Don’t lie. You’re going to guzzle that coffee fast so you can get to dessert.
