Chapter 14 #2
I slow to a stop before I reach the bodega, looking around for Ellis. I catch a glimpse of wings a few floors up when I peek down the slim alley between the second to last building and the corner store.
I stumble backward, running my hands through my hair self-consciously.
Ok, it’s cool. It doesn’t have to be weird. Especially if we’re just hooking up while we’re working on this whole thing together, it’s fine, it doesn’t have to mean anything.
I turn into the alley, fully bracing myself for the impact of just looking at him. It hits me like a train regardless.
There Ellis is, wings casually out and shielding the blinding angle of the afternoon winter sun from his face.
He’s sprawled out on the edge of a steel fire escape a couple floors up, a leg hanging off the edge while he scrolls through his phone, like a distracted gargoyle.
Except for his tail lazily flicking through the bars, he sits perfectly still, mostly blending into the shadow of the building.
He’s doing that thing that makes something clench low in my belly every time I see it—his hand is tucked into the waistband of his gray sweatpants, warming his fingers against the crease of his hip.
I don’t know why the gray sweatpants are doing so goddamn much for me. Maybe I’ve been staring at tailored menswear for so long I’ve become starved for something else. I just know my tongue feels terribly present in my mouth while I think about dragging my teeth over his stomach.
Ellis looks away from his phone only to cloud a breath over his knuckles, when he spots me standing in the mouth of the alleyway and grins.
Some of my apprehension melts at just seeing him smile. I don’t know why I thought he would be mad at me, just because he didn’t stay with me this morning. Do I read too much into a lack of communication? He probably had hench-guy things to do.
He waves and drops from the fire escape, gliding a few feet down before he tucks his wings in and falls the last ten feet, landing easily on his clawed feet.
“Hey, Lace. I was thinking, tomorrow night I could breach containment in case you wanna do something,” he offers with that casual, devil-may-care shrug, as he pulls his hood up, tucking his wings back in under his jacket. “Unless it being Valentine’s makes it weird.”
“No. I mean, yeah, I’d love that. I mean, yes, I’d like it. A lot,” I stammer like an idiot. He grins, and I don’t even care that I sound ridiculous. I don’t think I realized before how much better he makes me feel just by being around him.
He threads a couple of his fingers through mine, and even through my glove, I feel sparks.
One of the back exits to the bodega is propped open. Ellis tilts his head to it, leading me by the hand inside. The store is crowded with tight aisles.
He nods to the guy behind the counter and runs a familiar hand up the bodega cat’s back. It purrs loudly from its perch on the newspaper rack as he scratches its head.
“Hey, so, uh, did you talk to your dad about the stuff we saw?” I ask him quietly as we weave through the aisles.
Ellis glances back at me for barely a second, as he answers. “Yeah, yeah. I did. It confirmed a lot of his suspicions. He’s going to come up with a plan.”
“Great, yeah, keep me in the loop.”
He nods but seems a little distracted. His attention quickly slides back to the rack of magazines. He pauses at the counter to pay for a pack of gum and scratch ticket, passing a twenty through the gap in the acrylic divider. I hover in the doorway a moment, chewing the inside of my cheek.
It’s a little intimidating to think about going to Maestro for help.
Even though he’s had me kidnapped before, I’ve never seen him.
I’ve heard so much about him through Clayton.
He painted a picture of a temperamental, unreasonable mad scientist that seemed so unlike the things Ellis told me about his frail old dad.
Then again, I don’t know that Maestro would even want to help me. Maybe Ellis could overlook my relationship with Clayton, but Maestro and Steel Heel are like, archenemies. Their decades-long feud has changed the landscape of this city. Somehow I doubt asking nicely is going to be enough.
In my gut, I know the only one who can probably help me is Dr. Maestro. Maybe I’m just being a pessimist, and Ellis will bring me back to their not-so-secret hideout, and we could get this all fixed.
Ellis takes a few steps away from the counter, pocketing his purchase and thumbing through the crinkled bills he got in return when he pauses. “Hey, you gave me the wrong change back, these fives stuck together.”
We slip back onto the street, and I can’t help but stare at him. I’m so far gone on this guy, and I don’t even care. I put my arm through his, leaning against him a little as I press a kiss to his cheek. “You’re so good.”
He raises an eyebrow at that, a skeptical smile hooking the corner of his mouth while he unwraps a piece of gum. “What?”
“No, I just . . . you’re so nice to me, and you try to do the right thing. I don’t get why you’re not one of the good guys.”
He blinks at me like he didn’t hear me right. He pulls his arm out of my grasp, turning to face me. “What—because I’m not trying to be a superhero like Clayton?”
I sigh automatically and brace myself, realizing I fucked that up. “That wasn’t what I meant—”
“You don’t think it means less if you only do good things when you put them on blast?”
This feels familiar, like a conversation I had a hundred times with Clayton. I just wanted to pay him a compliment, but I worded it wrong, and now it’s going to turn into trying to apologize and walking on eggshells. Lunch date ruined.
I bristle, feeling indignant and tired of being chastised. It’s not even about defending my ex when I say, “That’s not what Clayton is like.”
“The whole thing is structured to feed his ego. The idea of beating up a guy you think you know did something wrong, not having anyone be able to tell you when you’re wrong, and then getting applauded for it?”
“He’s not just beating people up on the street who don’t deserve it—”
“But it’s not up to him to serve justice on his terms. Like, no, that’s the whole point of a society and a judicial system, flawed as it is, so that you don’t have one guy deciding to be Judge Judy and executioner.”
“It’s judge, jury—”
“I know what I said,” he replies curtly.
I swallow, staring back at him. He’s talking to me like he needs to convince me, but I agree that it’s not the best option, but what else are we supposed to do when a mutant bursts out of the sewers and starts pitching cars across the congestion-free zones?
I shake my head, unable to make eye contact. “Steel defends this city from mutant attacks—”
“You cannot honestly believe that.” Ellis scoffs. “I mean a ninety percent tax rate on any income and capital gains he makes would be more helpful to Goethal than he ever could be playing superhero—”
“This city needs its heroes,” I say, words I used to truly believe in. I don’t know anymore. Hot tears creep up along my eyelashes, no matter how much I will them back. I don’t know what he wants from me here, why everyone keeps backing me into this corner.
Ellis stares back at me, challenge in his eyes. It’s hard to believe that just yesterday being in his arms felt like the safest place in the world. “Come on. Tell me you’re not still defending him. After what he said on TV yesterday?”
My cheeks and neck scald with a knee-jerk flush of embarrassment. “I—I told him we needed to talk. He said we’ll get to it soon.”
“You’re actually joking,” he says slowly, in utter disbelief. He crosses his arms and shifts his weight from one leg to the other and apparently reassesses whatever he thought about me.
“If I don’t hear him out, what does that say about me?”
“That you’re fed up with his bullshit! That you’re not going to keep taking his shit any longer?”
I gasp, affronted. “I don’t take his shit.”
“You do, every time. You roll over and let him do what he wants,” he says, looking incredulous, making a dismissive gesture. Something defiant in me rises uneasily.
This asshole is really going to get on my case about not standing up for myself. Watch me do it right fucking now. “Jealousy isn’t a good look on you.”
A beat of silence passes between us, traffic honking distantly outside the alley.
“Jealousy? Are you serious? Lacey, he knocks you down every time you try to stand up to him.”
“I don’t—” I say, and my jaw welds shut on the words. A tear escapes, drawing a line of heat down my cheek.
My need to not cry in public turns me away from him, and I just start walking away down the alley. I don’t want to be here having this conversation again, and I don’t want to be spending my lunch break being condescended to by some guy.
Behind me, he calls out, “Oh, yeah? So then, you’re going to set things straight with Clayton, right? You’re not just going to let him push you around like that?”
I’m so fed up with all of this, everything, I whirl around and snap viciously, “Oh my God, shut up! Just shut up! Just like everyone else in my life, you think you know better than me.”
Irritation ticks in his jaw, his mouth a tense line as he catches up to me at the end of the alley.
I take a step back from him, and my back meets the wall.
My pulse quickens when he reaches me, but he grabs my hand in his, and those traitorous sparks zing through me the way they always do when he touches me.
Ellis keeps my stare intently as he takes careful hold onto my hand like it’s a lifeline in this fight. His dark brown eyes look more pained than angry.
Tears overwhelm, streaking hot tracks across my skin, chilling and burning in the wind.
He tugs me gently back toward him, his grip not so tight that I can’t pull out of it. It’s as light and tender as he is.
It’s a really shitty fact that he’s hot even when he looks pissed off. I let him pull me in, surrounding me with the warmth of his body.
He cups my face and kisses my forehead. My hands ball up in fistfuls of his jacket. After a few fraught heartbeats, he pulls back and tilts my face up to his.
The winter sun cuts harsh lines against the side of his face, as his thumbs brush over my cheeks to wipe my tears away.
“You’re right. I am jealous. You keep giving him the benefit of the doubt when he doesn’t deserve it,” Ellis says quietly. He doesn’t sound bitter, just defeated. He sighs and touches his forehead to mine.
“And . . . I want your confidence in me instead of him. I want you here with me, and I feel like you can’t be here with me if you’re not setting boundaries with him. It’s starting to feel like you don’t want to, either.”
Hot tears prick at my eyes. How can he say that? “No, that’s not—”
He takes in a deep breath and lets go of me. “What are we, Lacey?”
My throat is tight to the point of breaking.
Even if I knew what to say in response, I couldn’t.
We were no one to each other, really; we just met a few days ago.
And in the same breath, he had become so important to me so quickly.
Every shameless flirtation he’d thrown my way, every time he’d made me feel like I was something wondrous to experience, every time he had believed in me.
I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed a person so much just being there next to me.
I really don’t want to make a decision right this second about what we are. I can’t.
Ellis takes a step back from me, shaking his head. From the look in his eyes, he seems like he already has his answer.
“No, I see it now. You don’t want to pick a side. You don’t have to question anything if you stay where you are. I get it. That’s easier. You don’t want to see him for what he is. You won’t acknowledge it even when he’s blatantly disrespecting you.”
I pull away, unable to keep my breath even as the tears spill over uncontrollably.
His lips curl, the fanged smile I’ve loved so much suddenly mocking. “Besides, we already knew this thing between us was going to be trouble. I’m the bad guy, Lacey, and I always have been. You should stay away from me, for your own good.”