Chapter 13 #2
On the roof, I could see a large part of Southland, and from a distance, it held a macabre beauty.
Between the rumble of engines and late-night construction, the wind whistled between the buildings.
From here, it almost felt peaceful. The average citizen might be able to live that lie.
Each night, they went to sleep, turning a blind eye to the reality that lingered in the shadows.
I saw opportunity.
It’d only take a few minutes to suit up, check my gear, and prowl the streets.
I wouldn’t have to go far to find action.
The bank. A warehouse. Within the hour, I’d be trading blows, unleashing hell on would-be bad guys.
Some might be supers, others mundane crooks, possibly an assassin or two who wanted me dead.
Like those nestled in their beds, I lay as well.
I didn’t protect Southland out of a sense of civic duty.
I did it because it was the only time I felt comfortable in my own skin.
Janet: Are you okay?
Leaning against the rooftop wall, I eyed the message.
Her three words haunted me enough that I put a bookmark in Frankenstein and climbed the fire escape for fresh air.
I couldn’t read it without seeing her face.
For a split second, they held concern, then transformed into repulsion.
I pulled away the mask to save my friends, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat… except for her expression.
“Dammit.”
It was only a matter of time before Orion used his abilities and tracked me down.
He’d ping my cell phone, run through city surveillance, heck, he’d speak to the microwave.
At some point, I’d have to face them. I’d have to answer their questions and decide if I continued the charade as the man they knew or the monster I was.
No matter how many times I replayed the fight, I knew I’d do it again.
I’d jeopardize everything for their safety.
A car backfired. No, it was definitely a gunshot.
I wanted to suit up and find danger. Even Hellion’s need for justice didn’t shake the storm cloud hanging over my head.
Instead, I stared at the message. Tonight, Southland would need to rely on somebody who felt more like a hero.
Leaning over the ledge of the roof, I let the phone slip from my hands.
It crashed to the sidewalk below, shattering.
It wouldn’t stop Orion from tracking me, but it’d make it more difficult.
I pushed Janet from my mind and tried to focus on my other problem.
Booker.
When I started this side gig for Ricardo, I didn’t expect to be partnered with a bear from the government.
I couldn’t help but crack a smile. From the moment in the lobby, he surprised me.
We had gone from awkward introductions to colleagues to…
what? The sex hadn’t complicated things, no worse than me promoting him from work buddy to friend.
No, the complication came from the way he looked at me.
I ran my hand over the roughness of the red bricks.
The breeze had kicked up, creating a low moan from the streets below.
I could feel the spot on my hand where his thumb had rubbed back and forth.
The sex had been amazing, but it always came back to the way he held my hand or gave me a sidelong glance.
My heart wanted to speed up, but with him in the room, I always felt calm.
I wasn’t used to calm.
Heading toward the fire escape, I tried dissecting Booker’s interest. He knew Drew, and at first, I thought he had fallen for the safe side of me.
Yet, he had also witnessed me almost killing Cypher, and instead of retreating, he stood his ground.
Why did he insist on staying that first night?
What had I done to deserve his compassion?
Regardless, the weight of his presence in bed, his hand between my shoulder blades, meant something.
I returned to the fire escape and climbed one story down before climbing through my window. The coffee holder and croissant box sat on the kitchen table, a reminder that he went out of his way to surprise me. For no reason other than… I don’t know why. Yet, it warmed my heart.
Frankenstein rested on the coffee table.
It should read like Gothic science fiction.
Instead, it was as if I were reading a memoir.
Monster wants understanding. Scared people revolt.
Monster dies. I had been lucky to keep my monster hidden and my life compartmentalized.
The boundaries had worked for so long that I had thought them impervious.
But as I sat on the couch and pulled the throw blanket over my legs, I realized they had crumbled.
The identities I let the world see had bled together.
With the book in my lap, I admired the shine and sparkle on the cover.
Booker had seen a glimpse behind the mask, and instead of running, he reminded me of his presence.
As an investigator, he pushed for the truth, but he hadn’t done that with me.
There were no interrogations, no tactics trying to uncover the lies I’m sure he suspected.
He held his position, letting me set the pace.
Booker skillfully opened the door but didn’t force me to walk through.
He showed the monster patience.
I cracked the book open, pulling the bookmark free.
With Booker… I didn’t feel like a monster.
I felt whole, and I couldn’t remember the last time that had happened.
The glimpse hadn’t sent him running, but would he stay if he saw it all?
Even asking felt unfamiliar. Yet, the thought of not hiding, not compartmentalizing felt liberating.
If one person could see me, all of me, maybe there were others?
I knew the ending awaiting the story, but my mind was already rewriting it.
“Not monsters at all,” I whispered.
I settled in for a long night of reading.