THE VOLUNTEER
“Hello?”
“Hey, is this Violet?”
This was the fifth call in three days. Every time my phone rang, I was a little afraid to find out who was on the other end. So far all the calls had been from people who were mostly harmless. Sure, they killed people but not innocent people, so I could look past it.
“That depends on how you got this number.”
The guy laughed. “Weave said you were funny; I’m pleased to know he wasn’t lying.”
My eyebrow rose. “I thought Avalanche was handing out my information.”
“I tried. Stubborn bastard wouldn’t give it up; I had to go around him.”
Interesting. I couldn’t imagine why. Well, I could, but it would be delusional.
“Can I know who’s calling?”
He laughed again.
“Shit, sorry. Yeah, that was rude of me. Hemlock, at your service.”
Oh. Oh, fuck. Hemlock was another one of my villain crushes. He was fine. Dark-brown hair, forest-green eyes, five-foot-ten, and built like an F1 driver—lean but strong. He wasn’t quite as deadly as Avalanche, but he got his name because he could turn water into poison.
His victim pool was mostly stuck-up rich people. I also heard rumours that he worked with The Weaver on occasion. He’d help incapacitate the victims so he could do his whole vein thing.
“Oh… Um… Cool.”
Lame. So lame. You did fine before but now that you know who it is you can’t form thoughts? Stupid.
“So, how does this work? Do I give you my number now or do we have a face-to-face so you can vet me?”
“Up to you. I haven’t done a face-to-face with anyone except for The Weaver. Everyone else kinda broke into my office at the hospital to drop off their info. I’d prefer a face-to-face though. I’m tired of getting new locks.”
“When and where? You name it and I’ll be there.”
“You know the bar Crossroads on 44th? Say 6?”
“Works for me! I’ll see you there.”
I was waiting by the bar, fiddling with the sleeves of my blouse. I couldn’t decide if I wanted them rolled up or not. I felt overdressed. I thought the black jeans with a light-blue button-up would be fine but now I was worried I looked like I was trying too hard.
Hemlock was a supervillain; he was coming here to give me his information for the kids. It’s not like this was a date. But he was so nice to look at—and I was fucking delusional.
I glanced around to see if anyone was looking at me before working my buttons open. I was wearing a white tank top so I was hoping the tank top, the open button-up with the sleeves rolled up and the jeans would look like less try-hard.
Once I was satisfied with that, I flagged down a bartender.
The pretty one from the other day wasn’t working, which was kind of a relief because I hadn’t called her.
I was worried I’d have to explain that I was bi, but women scared me.
Not that men didn’t scare me, it’s just…
they were scary in a familiar way. I knew what to do with a man, I had no idea what to do with a woman and that (to me) was embarrassing.
How are you twenty-six and don’t know how to please someone with the same anatomy as you?
Because society said I should be with a man and by the time I realized I might like something else it was too late to learn (in my mind).
“Hey, what can I get you?” the bartender asked.
“Something fruity.”
“You got it,” he said with a smile as he went to work.
“Hey.”
I hadn’t noticed him walking up, but I turned to find Hemlock leaning on the wall next to the bar. He was wearing a black t-shirt, blue and black flannel hoody, and dark-blue jeans. He wore an easy smile on his face as his eyes trailed over me. It was hard not to squirm under his gaze.
“Hi.”
His grin grew. “I wasn’t sure if you’d recognize me. I don’t have the cult following guys like Avalanche do.”
I pressed my lips together to keep from blurting out something stupid. Something like: he did in fact have a huge cult following. The amount of internet fan fiction I’d read about him was honestly unhealthy.
“I don’t think that’s true.”
He raised an eyebrow. “No? Why not?”
Heat rushed to my cheeks. “I— So, um, can I buy you a drink or something?”
He laughed. “I was going to offer you a drink.”
“No offence, but I don’t know that accepting a drink from you is a smart life decision.”
“I wasn’t sure why Av wouldn’t give up your number but I get it now. I wouldn’t want to share you either.” His grin was wicked.
“I— That—”
“Here you go.” Oh good, the bartender was back. “Did you want to open a tab?”
I nodded. “That would be great, please.”
“Sure thing.” Then he was headed back down the bar.
I turned back to Hemlock. “So, shall we talk business, then?”
“I’d rather talk pleasure, but, sure, business will do.”
Good lord, the mouth on this man… He was pure trouble, and I was prone to making bad decisions when it came to trouble.
Hemlock was a relentless flirt. Every time I tried to get us back on track he’d distract me with his smooth talking and casual touching. He was acting like this was date and I didn’t totally mind it. He was cute and personable—and it had been a very long time since I’d been on a date.
The last guy to ask me out was a police officer I crossed paths with quite a bit.
I lived in such a crappy area that I had an attempted mugger at least once a week.
We met a couple years ago, and he seemed nice enough so I agreed to a date last year—even though I hadn’t been fond of cops since my mum died.
He called me the day of to cancel. He said an icicle had completely totalled his car and asked to reschedule.
It was June, yeah, right. I told him not to bother.
I’d seen a ton of those “alpha male” dating advice things where they say to test a woman’s agreeability by making excuses to cancel shit and then seeing how they responded.
I wasn’t interested in someone dumb enough to follow that trash advice so I just blocked him and moved on.
I’d seen him a bunch since then and every time he tried to insist it was real, even tried to show me pictures.
He was starting to wear me down a bit. I’d been considering giving him another chance, but now I was surrounded by some of the hottest supervillains on the planet. I didn’t know how a normal dude was supposed to compete with that.
Once drink two was in my system, I relaxed a bit.
I liked Hemlock’s banter, and I liked the way his attention made me feel.
I was having so much fun that I wasn’t paying attention to the time until my phone started ringing incessantly.
I’d told Amber that I would be doing this, and she insisted on checking in.
I excused myself, headed to the back of the bar where there wasn’t a speaker directly overhead, and answered.
“Hello?”
“Are you home yet?”
I could barely hear her. I covered my free ear.
“Does it sound like I’m home yet?” I yelled over the music.
“It’s been three and a half hours, what the hell is taking so long? Did he kidnap you?”
I snorted.
“Yes, because I’d still be at the bar, answering my phone, if I was kidnapped. I’m fine, he’s just…” I trailed off, glancing to where he was sitting at the bar watching me with a smile on his face. “Nice and fun.”
“Bitch, shut up! Shut the fuck up! Are you on a date with a super-hot supervillain right now?” She didn’t even give me a second it answer. “Oh my god! You totally are! I hate you; I actually hate you. You’re living my dream. Is he hotter in person? Without his mask?”
“Oh, absolutely. I cut myself off an hour ago to keep from jumping him. I’m still tempted to take him home with me, though.”
“Wait, wait no! Can I come? Please, I will literally beg you.”
“Absolutely not. Do you know how long it’s been since I got laid? You’re not ruining it for me.”
She started yelling incoherently while I laughed.
“Dude, chill out. I’m not actually taking him anywhere. The last thing I need is to get involved with a supervillain.”
“Ugh, you suck. Let me live vicariously through you!”
“I can give him your number, if you want. Then I can live vicariously through you.”
There was a long pause. “Does he give stalker vibes?”
I glanced over again; he was still watching me.
“No,” I lied.
“Damn. Not my type. Let me know if you meet one that is.”
I shook my head and chuckled. “Can I go now?”
“Call me when you get home. I want to make sure you’re alive.”
After giving her multiple assurances that I would, she finally hung up, and I made my way back over to Hemlock.
“Sorry about that. My friend was just making sure you didn’t kill me or whatever she came up with in her book-rotted brain.”
His eyebrow rose. “Is she one of those dark romance readers?”
I let out an unattractive snort before slapping my hand over my mouth.
“Um… That felt a little judgy, and I don’t appreciate it.”
“Are you one of those dark romance readers?”
I open and shut my mouth twice.
“I will not be judged by my choice of literature. M’kay? It’s not all I read. I’ve been known to pick up the occasional fantasy.”
“Whoa, whoa. Who said anything about judging?” He leaned in closer with his elbow propped up on the bar as he trailed his eyes over me slowly. “From my experience, dark romance girls are the best kind of girls. You’re into some fucked up shit. I like that.”
My face was on fire. “Well, on that note, I should go. It’s getting late.”
“Sure.” He stood up and flagged down the bartender. “Can we close out? I’ll grab her tab, too.”
“She’s paid up.”
“But I—”
“Boss said you’re covered. I don’t ask questions; I just make drinks.”
Hemlock sighed. He mumbled something to himself I couldn’t hear over the music and tapped his card on the machine the bartender held out to him.
“Have a good night, and tell your boss I said he’s an asshole.”
“You can tell him that yourself since you clearly have a death wish.” The guy laughed. “Have a good one.”