Twenty Five #2
I yawn, and he sees that as his cue. “Night, Maddy. You’re not a morning person, so sleep in and skip the worst part of the day.”
“It’s Madeline,” I say, reflexively. Yes, I’ll be sleeping in. He will too, since Fox isn’t a morning person either.
“I know.” He flicks off the light, allowing the darkness to wash the night away. The last thing I see are the shadows spinning in the hall as he pulls the door behind him.
~
I wake up before it’s morning from wind blowing in the window. Darn it nature, quit waking me up. I nearly get out of bed to fix the situation when I remember the window had barely been open before.
“Come on out, Dark Static.”
“No more D.S., huh, Roberts?” His indistinct murmur comes from the curtain’s shadows. No boundaries, this guy.
“Nicknames are for friends only.” I climb on top of the sheets and wish I had a sweatshirt to pull over my clothes. Not because I’m cold. I want an extra layer between my heart and D.S.’s lack of tact.
“Noted.” Dark Static steps away from the window but doesn’t move closer. He’s back in his black Supersuit, with his white electricity lying dormant. Wisps of black float over his gloves and boots as he keeps to the shadows, as if he’s a part of them.
“Is it worth me trying to apologize?” he asks.
I loop my arms around my knees. “You tell me.”
“Madeline, I said I wasn’t sure if us being together is a good idea right now . I didn’t mean ever.”
“Is that supposed to be an apology?”
When he doesn’t speak, I’m overwhelmed by the desire to argue and too tired to turn it off.
I curl into a tight ball. “You’re Capital City’s Bad Boy.
You’re dangerous, you’re unpredictable, you’re…
” I stop to think of more things I could accuse him of.
“Why didn’t you come when the police shot at me? ”
D.S. sighs, as if it’s strenuous for him to show any vulnerability. “I’m supposed to be the villain, remember?”
“You’re doing a stellar job of it.”
D.S. slides down the wall, resting his hands on his knees when he hits the floor. “Listen, Bridges has been trying to hurt you. Clearly, he’s been unsuccessful.”
“You don’t say.”
“Easy, tiger. Bridges has adopted a new strategy. He realized he has a secret weapon. He sent me.”
“He sent you…?” I start, then realize what he means. Phil sent Dark Static to kill me . I scoot farther back on the bed.
“Told you,” he says. “I’m supposed to be the bad guy.”
A breeze spirals in our silence, then it’s my turn to whisper. “How did you find me here?”
“That’s the question you ask? Not if I’m going to kill you?”
Right. He won’t answer, and by now I’m used to that.
“If you were going to, you would have already,” I say. “You tried to break off everything between us instead.” I should have known. Arielle did the same thing. “You could have just told me.” My capacity for being lied to, especially when they’re patronizing lies, is beyond full.
D.S. nods slowly. “I’m sorry for how I acted in Arielle’s bathroom. I should have discussed it with you earlier. I’m sorry, Madeline. I really like you and I blew it. I won’t kill you, for the record. In case you haven’t figured that out yet.”
“I’d love to see you try.”
“After what you did to your dad’s old house, I’d say it’d be a fair fight.” He points to his mask. “Lasers, remember?”
I force myself to keep a straight face, though there’s no denying the spark that’s returned to our conversation.
D.S. and I sit feet away from each other, enveloped in the moonlight and silence. It’s like we’re in the middle of a staring contest, and D.S. can’t blink first.
“What’s up?” I give in.
“Phil’s after something bigger than whatever your mom discovered, I think that’s why he wants to take out Arielle—he thinks she might know what it is.
If she did, you and I would have it by now, so he’s wasting his efforts there,” he gathers his thoughts.
“I think he wants you because you’re a Super. ”
“Why does that matter?”
D.S. brushes his gloves against the carpet.
His voice weakens and I lean closer to hear.
“I found a press release on his desktop. He wants me to hurt you so he can claim that Supers are a menace to the city. Then, he’ll wage war on all of us.
He’s already turned me into a bad guy, with the fire and the bomb. After this, he’s going to cut me out.”
“People will still believe in Golden Ace though,” I say. “Golden Ace is more powerful than anyone in this city.”
D.S. presses a button on his teched-out watch.
Then he slides it off his wrist and tosses it to me.
I turn it over in my hands. On the screen is a press release, written and ready to be published.
The headline reads, “Gold Gone Rogue—Your Favorite Superhero is Doubling as our City’s Greatest Threat. ”
“Capital City will give Gold an ultimatum,” explains D.S. “Reveal his secret identity, or he’ll be equated with me. And then everyone will want to exterminate the Supers.”
“People know you’re not the same person. You’ve been in photos together.”
He shakes his head. “That doesn’t matter. Phil can claim they’ve been photoshopped. And if we show up together to discredit him, Phil will claim that Golden Ace got a double, or hired a different Super to pose as me.”
“No one is going to believe that,” I argue. “That Golden Ace is a villain? There’s no way.”
“People will be too distracted to look into it properly. It’ll be Phil’s word versus a Super’s, which, let’s face it, NSRPs are quick to turn on. Phil has too much else planned.”
“And if Golden Ace reveals his secret identity, Phil will still kill him. Why is he doing this?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.” Dark Static stands and resumes his casual lean against Jamie’s dresser. “We need to connect the pieces, and pronto.”
As soon as the mayor finds out I’m alive and D.S. never hurt me, he’ll adjust his plan and move D.S. to the top of his hit list. We’re running out of time.
“What are the other pieces?” I ask. “What else is Phil planning?”
D.S. scratches the back of his neck. “He’s making me do odd tasks for him, which I need to do to buy time. It’ll be on the news tomorrow. You can see then.”
“Gee, so mysterious.”
Dark Static steps closer, causing butterflies to rocket through my nerves.
I want to trust him, but my emotions are drained and wrapped in confusion.
I wish tonight hadn’t ever happened. He’s close enough that our knees almost touch.
Shadows spill from his armor, as if the darkness will never let him go.
“It would help me out, and probably save the city, if we could work together again,” he says.
“Well, when you put it like that…”
“Watch out for me on the news this morning.” He steps away.
“Which channel?” I ask.
Dark Static puts one slick boot on the window ledge. “All of them.”