Chapter 23
CHAPTER 23
The heavy metal garage door rolled open. Sadie still wasn’t quite sure if she was nervous or excited as Joan drove her black sedan into the Villains’ secret lair. She took in the blank cement-block walls, the emptiness, the lack of…anything.
As far as secret lairs went, she’d been expecting more.
“I told you it wasn’t much,” Joan said, shutting off the ignition.
“Hiding in plain sight.” That was something Sadie had been learning about Joan’s life. Joan didn’t like to draw attention to herself, preferring to be in the shadows.
Sadie was in those shadows now. Or rather, was involved in bringing Joan out of them.
Raising her eyebrows, Joan said, “Are you ready for this?”
Sadie gave her thigh a reassuring squeeze. “You bet. We’re in this together.”
They exited the car to meet with Mark and Perry. She couldn’t bear not touching Joan, so she laced their fingers.
They’d spent the past two days cocooned in Joan’s apartment, minimally clothed, talking a lot, learning one another’s bodies a whole lot. She loved discovering what made Joan feel good. Sex with her was better than anyone could possibly imagine. Oh boy, was it incredible. Bone-meltingly incredible.
But Joan also really enjoyed cuddling, being connected. Which made sense, considering she hadn’t had much affection in her life.
Not anymore.
Mark was seated at a long table, reading a text chain on his phone. He glanced up and broke into a smile that resembled his sister’s. “Hey, Sadie. Welcome to where the magic happens.”
“Thanks. It’s strange to be here.”
“How are you doing?”
“Much better.” She gazed appreciatively at Joan. “Joanie nursed me back to health.”
“I’ll bet she did,” he drawled.
The table held a disorganized mish-mash of fast-food napkins that had been written on. Ohhh, one had her and Joan’s initials inside a big red heart. “Aww, babe,” Sadie cooed, picking it up.
Joan drew their joined hands to her mouth and kissed Sadie’s knuckles.
Mark retched and said, “We’ll have none of that here. This is a serious place of business.”
“Setting ground rules for Hot and Cold?” Joan said.
A new text on Mark’s phone distracted him, causing him to grimace.
A handsome Latino man stepped out of a small washroom in glasses and a deep blue dress shirt and dark slacks. Wait, was this Perry? The gruff longtime Villain? He looked like a sexy TV doctor. Not at all what she’d imagined.
Joan tilted her head. Sadie blinked and opted not to tell the woman she loved that the guy who raised her was pretty darn hot. “Hi…Perry?”
Perry gave her a solid nod. “Are you feeling all right?”
“Mostly healed, thanks.”
“Let’s get to it.”
He sat across the table from Mark. Joan moved to sit beside her brother, then paused as her arm stretched from being attached at the end to Sadie. “Sorry,” she said. “I usually sit here.”
“Then sit there,” Sadie said. She squeezed Joan’s fingers.
Joan seemed reluctant to let go—a shared sentiment. But it would be good for them to focus on the conversation instead of how amazing it felt to touch one another. All over. Again and again.
She slid the sweet napkin into her coral-hued skirt pocket and walked around to occupy a chair next to Perry. Giving him a small smile, she asked, “Is there an agenda today?”
“No agenda,” Perry said.
“Topic of conversation…” Mark wiggled his phone. “How we’re gonna handle the fallout from our little betrayal.”
“How bad is it?”
“I’ve received a steady stream of insults from our criminal contacts. You should see the creative use of curse words. It’s actually quite impressive.”
He leaned over to show Joan his screen. Concern creased her forehead, though slight amusement toyed at her lips.
“I’ve gotten the same,” said Perry. “From Villains in other cities, too. We didn’t just break the code. We did it with the help of the Supers.”
“Gossip travels fast in our world,” Mark told Sadie. “Nobody wants to be on the wrong side of the wrong side of the law.”
Joan had said this would likely be the result. She’d acted like it didn’t matter, but villainy had been her life for so long. Even Greta had texted a WTF? and hadn’t responded to any of Joan’s replies. That had to hurt.
Sadie cleared her throat. “Is it okay if I say something?”
“Of course,” Joan said. “You’re a part of this.”
“To give you a different perspective… I mean, I can give you the viewpoint of what the norms are thinking and saying.”
Mark bobbed his head encouragingly.
“It’s been all over the news that you three—well, your alter-egos—helped the Supers. There are a lot of theories about why, but the overall opinion is that you did a good thing.”
“I’ve also heard people say we wanted to take out our biggest competition,” Mark said. “So we played the Supers to get the others out of our way.”
“No one ever wants to paint us in a favorable light,” Joan said.
“I saw that, too,” Sadie said. “But the emphasis has been on all of you working together. And that time will tell what your next move will be.” She glanced at one napkin with a simple drawing of a food truck and HOT and COLD and AWESOME! written on it. “I think no more activity will send the message that you did it for the right reasons.”
Joan met her gaze, the tenderness in her eyes saying she’d done it for the most important reason of all: love.
Perry set a clenched hand on the table. “Who cares what the public thinks? We’ve lost all credibility with the people who know us.”
“We’re blacklisted,” Joan said. “None of our contacts will want anything to do with us.”
“We have to open a food truck now,” Mark said. His tone held little joy. It was still their choice, only they had no alternative now.
“At least I won’t have to lie about my job anymore,” Joan said quietly.
Sadie gave her an understanding, close-mouthed smile.
Perry fidgeted in his rigid plastic chair. He appeared to be uncomfortable, or like he was holding back.
“What’s on your mind, Per?” Joan said. “I know you’re not thrilled to have?—”
“You think? Why would I be thrilled to have my name connected to the Supers? Why would I want every contact I carefully curated for years to disappear overnight because of something you did without my consent?”
Joan and Mark looked at each other.
“No, Joanie, I’m not thrilled that I was dragged into a situation by some random texts while napping. You gave me no time to respond or think about it. You jumped in headfirst without thinking about the consequences. As always.”
“Tell us how you really feel,” Mark grumbled.
“We needed to act fast to save Sadie,” said Joan.
Perry banged his fist on the table. “How many times do I have to tell you? Don’t ever trust a Super. It never turns out well.”
“Dude, why are you so anti-Super?” Mark said. “Joanie and I have a boatload of reasons. You’ve never told us what yours are.”
Joan’s expression said she knew Perry was keeping secrets. “Otis said something the other day. He knew you wanted to work at an art gallery. How?”
Perry gave her a look. “What, you think you’re the only ones who got treated like crap by those assholes?”
“Ooh.” Mark raised his eyebrows at Sadie. “Perry never swears. It must be good.”
Sadie found herself tilting forward with interest.
The only one not interested was Perry. He hemmed and hawed as the seconds ticked by.
“Do you know those guys better than you’ve let on?” Joan asked. “Like, do you know their real names because they told you?”
“Not exactly,” Perry muttered.
“Then what?”
More seconds passed. Finally, he said, “The one time I trusted one of them, it didn’t end well.”
They waited for him to continue. Perry leaned back and crossed his arms.
“You can’t leave us hanging like that,” Mark said.
Perry stared him down—the kind of stare that would’ve freaked Sadie out if it’d been directed at her.
Mark huffed. “You are literally the worst storyteller.”
Perry didn’t budge.
“You’re free now, Per,” Joan said. “You can work legitimately in the art world if you want.”
“That bridge was burned a long time ago,” he said.
“Then you can help with Hot and Cold,” Mark said. “Do you know the paperwork involved with starting a business?”
“There’s a lot,” Sadie chimed in. “More than you think.”
“I don’t know anything about running a restaurant,” Perry said.
Sadie smiled at him. “I do. And I’m going to help.”
The handsomely irritated man considered her. “I didn’t want any of this, Sadie. These two have been pestering me for weeks about this damn food truck. Once they set their minds to something, they’ll grind and grind and wear you down until they get it.”
Mark sat up, brightening. “Is that an enthusiastic yes?”
“Come on, Per,” Joan said. “We want to do this with you.”
Perry held out a hand at them. “You see? Relentless.”
Sadie giggled. “They’re pretty annoying kids, aren’t they?”
“You have no idea.” He looked at Joan and Mark. “If this gets you off my back, fine. We’ll shift our focus.”
The twins whooped and jumped up. They ran over to throw their arms around Perry. “Thank you thank you thank you,” they chorused.
Perry acted resigned and exasperated, but the faintest hint of a smile flashed across his mouth. Like a good father figure, he was going along with what his kids wanted. Their happiness mattered a lot to him. You had to respect him for that.
“That’s enough.” Perry patted their arms before pushing them off. “We still have to talk about what the Supers expect us to do.”
“Stop doing crime,” Mark said.
“Do we have to turn things over to them? Return stuff we took?”
Joan shrugged. “Whatever it is, we have to do it.”
She stepped to Sadie and rubbed her back. Leaning down, she murmured, “It’s all happening, sweetheart.”
Pure happiness danced throughout her body. “I can’t wait to get started.”
“I don’t know why we’d have to return things,” Perry said. “The agreement is for us to walk away.”
Mark smiled at his sister. “That’s why, Per.”
Perry glanced over, then seemed to comprehend that Joan was going to do whatever it took to get the life she wanted. And deserved.
“Did you know, Sadie…” Mark’s grin turned wicked. “Our very own Péricles Barbosa has an MBA, which for a long time I thought meant Master of Butt Air. Turns out it has something to do with business.”
“Master of Butt Air?” Sadie laughed.
Joan slid an arm around her shoulders. “He is that. But he’s also pretty book smart. I think with what each of us brings to the table… The hot.” She nodded at each of them in turn. “The cold, the business acumen, and the people skills, we have the perfect recipe for success.”
“Perfect recipe,” Perry muttered. “I see what you did there.”
“Let’s not dwell on the bullshit.” Mark started spreading out the note-covered napkins. “Yeah, we’ll have to deal with some transitional crap, but one thing we never do is dwell.”
“I’ve dwelled many times on why I brought you two into my life.”
Joan and Mark took that in stride. Sarcasm was their familial love language. More extreme than her own family’s dynamic, but at least these three were open with one another. Sadie still hadn’t told her parents about being abducted, and quite honestly, might never. They would be relentlessly overprotective for the rest of her days.
“Let’s clean this place up.” Joan dropped a kiss on top of Sadie’s head. “Make it presentable for…well… Just make it presentable.”
For the Supers, perhaps? Or to sell it? Maybe cleaning it up meant?—
Wait. When she had questions, she had to vocalize them. “Do you mean actually clean it, or remove things you don’t wany anyone to find?”
“Both.” Joan took a step back. Her cue she didn’t want to say more.
“Let’s start with the kitchenette.” Mark made his way to that makeshift area.
Joan held her hand out, which Sadie clasped. Whatever she wasn’t proud of, or didn’t want Sadie to find, they’d work through it. She’d already demonstrated wanting to do better by giving money to the living artists whose pieces graced her home with the message “ I very much enjoy your work. –Spark ”
Joan was hoping to transfer money in her illicit ways until the Supers stopped her. It was, after all, for good. With not so good money.
Whew, the moral conundrum was a lot.
Sadie took in the sad little sink, the old countertops, the fridge that sounded like it was about to take off into space. “You’re not planning on cooking here, are you?”
“God no,” Joan said. “We can use Mark’s kitchen. It’s gourmet.”
“You know how Joanie and Perry love art?” Mark grinned. “I love kitchen.”
A handwritten sign taped above the sink caught his attention.
Keep Our Lair Beautiful! Wash your damn dishes. That means you Irving.
Irving was Hide. Which meant all of the Supervillains used to meet here. Which meant Trick, Hide and Volt’s stuff had to be among the things they wanted to clean out.
Mark ripped the sign off the cement wall. “One thing we never do is dwell.”