THE VOLUNTEER
But I was still terrified.
I was sitting on one of the black vinyl high-top stools that were neatly tucked under the Crossroads’ polished oak bar. I’d never come inside here before, only watched through the large window next to the door. It was different from this angle, in the daylight.
It was overwhelming. I didn’t do well in loud places with crowds this big.
Luckily, I was sitting at the far side of the bar next to the wall that separated this space from the pool table area, because most people were crowding around the middle to get the bartender’s attention.
Still, with every passing second I could feel my anxiety rising—or maybe my irregular heart beat had to do with the music blaring through the speakers.
A group of guys were standing near the middle of the bar, trying (failing miserably) to get the bartender’s number. I could see why they’d try; she was absolutely stunning. Black hair, green eyes, arms and chest covered in tattoos, tanned skin, perfectly curvy.
She ignored them and made her way down the bar to me, much to the guys’ dismay. She gave me a warm smile.
“Sorry, hun, I missed you coming in. Can I get you anything?” She leaned over the counter, raising her voice above the music.
“Um… I… Um…” Great. Hot girls, hot guys, didn’t matter. I still couldn’t put a coherent thought together. “Yes, please.” Good start let’s keep that going. “Tequila. Please.”
She laughed, grabbing a remote from the counter behind her. The music dropped down to a more acceptable level. Finally, I could hear myself think.
“Do you have a brand preference? One shot? Two? Mixed?”
“I’m sorry, you’re really pretty and that seems to have short-circuited my brain. Brand doesn’t matter, three shots ’cause clearly I need them.”
“Coming right up.” She smiled, pulled out three shot glasses then placed them on the bar before cracking open a bottle. “You new to the area? I’ve never seen you in here.”
“No, I’ve been here six years. I mostly just go straight from home to work back to home. It’s…well you know how the area can be.”
She nodded, finishing the final glass. “So you were here when…?”
The incident.
“No. Well, yes and no. I was out of town when…that happened.”
That was a lie, but I wasn’t going to get into that with a stranger.
“Well, you’re lucky. Or unlucky. I guess it depends on what side you ended up on.” She pushed the shots to me.
“I’m going to say lucky.” I downed the first one, cringing lightly. “I mean, 14.13% chance of superpowers…unlikely.”
“Fair enough, I suppose.”
“How about you?”
“I lived here a while ago. I left before all that, but I just moved back about four months ago.”
I blew out a breath. “Why?”
She laughed. “I got a thing for supervillains I guess.”
I grinned. “Girl, you have come to the right place. Have you had the pleasure of seeing Avalanche? He’s…” I trailed off, sighing contently. Yup, the crush was still strong, even though he gave my name to a serial killer—a well-meaning serial killer, at least.
A chuckle sounded to my right. “He’s what?”
I’m pretty sure the colour drained from my face. I hadn’t heard that voice since—
Kill me. Kill me now. Speak of the devil and he shall appear—or however that saying goes. Avalanche stood, leaning on the wall not even two feet from me, black hair covering his eyes, smirk planted on his face.
I grabbed the second shot, downed it, then repeated for the third. Why did these things always happen to me?
“He’s an egotistical, snow-wielding, leather-loving, jerk.”
That was probably the dumbest thing that could have left my mouth, but what was he going to do? Kill me in a bar full of people? Actually… Maybe. None of these people would even blink. Yup, back to being dumb.
The girl behind the bar looked away, coughing into her elbow. It was almost like she was trying to cover a laugh… Did she know I just said that to Avalanche’s face? No, she couldn’t, no one here knew who he was. Right?
“Don’t let him hear you say that it might hurt his feelings,” he said, peeling himself off the wall. “Do you mind?”
He waved to the empty bar stool on my left.
I looked back to the bartender instead. “Could I get three more?”
She nodded. “I’ve gotta grab another bottle from storage. I’ll be right back.”
I started to tell her it was fine, but she disappeared through the door behind the counter before I got more than a word out. Perfect.
“So?” Avalanche still stood behind the stool.
I raised an eyebrow. “If I said that I did mind, you wouldn’t sit there?”
“There are plenty of people here who actually enjoy my company.”
He looked over his shoulder at a group of women in their early twenties. They noticed him looking and started giggling. He gave them a wink before turning his attention back to me with a grin on his perfectly chiseled, stupidly handsome face.
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t let me stop you from your adoring fans. I was rather enjoying the pretty bartender’s company.”
His eyebrow rose, amused. “Were you?”
“Yes, quite.”
“Three shots. Here you are.”
Of course she was back. I covered my face with my hand. I was on fire. I couldn’t tell if it was the embarrassment or the alcohol finally taking effect, but I was definitely red.
“Thanks,” I mumbled grabbing the first shot and downing it before looking at either of them. “Do you have anything that will keep me from talking?” I asked, meeting her eye. She was smiling, that was a good sign.
“Afraid not, but I like it better when you talk. You’re cute.”
“I… You… Thanks,” I stammered again.
This was the most embarrassing moment of my life.
“I’ve gotta get back to that.” She gestured to the crowd in the middle of the bar. “But here’s my number, you should call me some time.”
She slid a napkin across the bar and gave me a warm smile before walking away. I picked it up to find her name and number engulfed in a heart. Eva.
Avalanche whistled. “I’ve been trying to get her number for months, but you just walk in, and she hands it right over.”
I was sure my face was still bright red, but I levelled him with a glare.
“It’s called being adorable. You should try it some time.”
He laughed. Fucking damn it, he didn’t need to be adorable—that sexy laugh probably got him all kinds of admirers.
“You still haven’t answered me. Can I sit?” And polite, too—the total package.
“Um… I was waiting for— You gave— Sure.”
He pulled the stool back and sat. “Oh, Weave reached out? I wasn’t sure he would.”
I was glad he could piece my thoughts together because I certainly couldn’t.
“A heads up about that would have been nice. I nearly had a heart attack last night. I barely slept.”
“He’s harmless. Well, to you. The guy who’s been eyeing you since you walked in… He’s probably in danger.”
I followed his gaze to a skinny guy in the corner. He looked relatively harmless until I met his eyes. There was something about the way they darkened that made my skin crawl. I looked back at the two remaining shots. Maybe I would leave those, I’d need a clear head for my walk home.
“Yes, I stayed up all night researching him. That’s the only reason I’m here.”
“A few others have…asked about you. Would you be willing to meet some more?”
“Um… Can I see how this goes?”
He nodded, a little smile growing on his face.
“I think that’s a great idea.” He noticed someone behind my shoulder. “I’ll be around, just in case. Your guest just arrived.”
“Does he know about…?” I trailed off gesturing to his hair.
“No. I’d appreciate if this could be our little secret.” He winked before grabbing one of my drinks and disappearing into the crowd.
Asshole. He’d be paying me back for that one.
“Miss Hayes?”
I turned to find a middle-aged man standing behind me.
He wasn’t exactly what I’d pictured when I read about The Weaver.
He was short—maybe two inches taller than me—tamed brown hair but you could tell it normally wasn’t—strands were already trying to break free of the gel—and squinty brown eyes.
He wore a light-blue dress shirt and black jeans.
“Hi, Mr. Um… Sorry, what should I call you?”
He smiled warmly; his eyes basically disappeared with his squint.
“You can call me John.”
“Does that mean we’re friends?” I smiled in return.
“I sure hope we will be, Miss Hayes.”