Authors: Leighton Del Mia
“Norman worked for us and had worked for my father’s family too. By the time they passed, he could concoct the formula himself. But I shut him out when it happened and turned to my friends. I handled my secret and my loss with drinking, partying, drugs, sex. If I injected before I smoked, my highs would take me to another world. They were so intense that sometimes I thought I could communicate with the dead.
“When I moved out of that phase—”
“How?” Cataline asks.
“I’ll get to that in a minute. Once I cleaned myself up, I realized my purpose. I have an obligation to this city. To my parents. K-36 is groundbreaking, and it’s saved many lives. Every night I patrol. Parish Media is to keep up appearances and to stay plugged into the real world, but sometimes I’m hardly a part of it.”
Even with the unloading of my life’s work and one of the world’s greatest secrets, Cataline remains still and unresponsive. After a few moments, she speaks in a controlled tone. “So what am I? A distraction? I’m supposed to be grateful for your sacrifices?”
I search her face, trying to make sense of her words. “No.”
“Then what does this have to do with me? And what’s your connection to the Cartel?”
With this information, she has the power to destroy me. Still, telling her was easier than what comes next. I sigh and scrub my hands over my unshaven jaw. When I hesitate, instinct urging me to flee, I’m driven forward by the searing image of Cataline’s blood seeping from her arms.
“If you watched the news, you knew I took out the Cartel’s leader a little over a few months ago. When I did, they started looking into me. I didn’t realize right away, because I didn’t give them enough credit. Since then, they’ve been after Hero with everything they have. They’re starved for revenge and information because they can’t get near me. But because of a fuck up a few weeks ago, they know my identity.
“I’m a lot of things, but like I said, I’m not immortal. The Cartel has manpower and is out for blood. I killed members of their crew hoping to send a message, but it only incited them. Within two weeks of my killing Ignacio Riviera, they managed to discover the one thing outside of New Rhone that has Hero’s attention. One other . . . weakness.”
After a long silence, she asks, “What is it?”
“Not what. Who.”
“Okay,” she prompts. “Who?”
“I told you when my parents died, I self-destructed. I numbed everything with alcohol, drugs, and girls. Something had to happen to put me back on track. One afternoon, I injected and was smoking quality bud with some friends. I was out of my mind. When we heard about the apartment building fire on the other side of Fenndale, I didn’t react right away. I knew this was the sort of thing I was supposed to fix, but I’d never done anything real up to that point because Fenndale was pretty quiet. I was scared shitless. I tried to ignore it, let the high take over, but I couldn’t stop picturing the burning building. The gravity of the situation began to cut through. I realized that if I saved even one life, then all my work, all my parents’ work up to that point, would be worth it. And I did. I saved one life.”
Tears drip onto her trembling hands. “Mine.”
“I should’ve been there to save them too. I didn’t reach the building in time because I was high and when I did, that slowed me down. You were a child. I rescued you first. I was too late for your parents. Their death is my fault.”
“Why don’t I remember any of this?”
“You were barely conscious. I was discreet because of my secret. Once I knew you were safe and there was nothing more I could do, I took off.”
Her shaking continues while pain and blame are clear on her face. Selfishly, this is why I never wanted her to know the truth. I made up excuses for hiding it from her, but this, here and now, is the real reason. I can handle her hating me for imprisoning her, but not for the death of her only family.
“There’s more,” I tell her, and she sniffles. “Do you want me to keep going?”
“Yes.”
“After that, it all finally connected for me. I understood my place in the world. As penance for that mistake, you would have a guardian from afar. It was for my parents and for yours. You were almost seven at the time, and I would split my time between New Rhone and Fenndale, checking in when I could and watching over you.”
“You—what? Since I was a child?”
“I don’t know if you remember—”
“The Andersons? That was you?”
“Yes. I found you under the bed. Promised you you’d be happy. I wish I’d taken you then instead of letting you grow up with that excuse for a family.”
“I moved to New Rhone,” she says and then looks up. “There was never anywhere else.”
“I told myself when you turned eighteen, my sentence would be served. But you came here, and I couldn’t stop. The deeper I descended into the pits of this city, the more corruption, murder, and rape I was exposed to. Protecting you from that became an obsession.”
She looks away. “I don’t believe you. It’s just not possible.”
“I ensured your job at Parish Media. I came into the office more often. I walked you to and from work, but you never knew it. I’ve kept you from being pickpocketed. Russ—the guy across the hall from you? He made you uncomfortable.”
She swallows loudly. “How do you know that?”
“He used to hit on you, even though he was married. But I was there, Cataline. I would’ve driven him out of town before he could put his hands on you.”
Her head shakes. “Why?”
“In the beginning I felt responsible. But the more I watched, the more you felt like mine.”
“Yours?”
“You had no one else but me. It’s a dangerous thing to feel needed that way.”
“None of this makes sense. You did things to me that . . . you kidnapped me. You’ve kept me here and . . .
you
hurt me.”
“I know.” I press my fist into my other palm. There’s no mark to show for slapping her last night, and I wish there were. I deserve to see what I did. But that isn’t what she means. “I had no idea that bringing you here would turn out this way. For so long I watched you, thinking you were mine. It’s not that I loved you, but that I felt like you belonged to me. Watching you grow up, saving you—I couldn’t be a part of your life, but I was intertwined with you. And you never even knew I existed. I thought I could keep you at the mansion and foolishly, design it so we never crossed paths. I justified it because I was keeping you safe from them.” I pause, still unable to gauge her reaction. “Having you finally in my possession was too much. I’ve learned to control myself, but you revert me back to the teenager who can’t handle his impulses. And since then, I’ve seen too much evil, killed too many people, and it’s turned me into this.”
“I’m the thing the Riviera Cartel wants.”
“You’re my weakness.” I close my eyes at the admission. Everything Norman said was true. I do care about her just like I care for New Rhone.
“What about Guy Fowler?”
I shake my head. “He’s just a pawn. The Cartel had to send someone after you. The day he asked you out at Taco Shack was planned.”
She gasps. “How’d you know about that?”
“I know everything. I was there—I heard what he said, what you said. You fell right into his trap. The Cartel sent those guys to kidnap you. They were going to do it that night. I got to you first.”
“The men in the forest?”
“I know as much as you. Someone in the Cartel sent them after you. They know who I am because they stole my wallet, but I don’t know how they knew you were there.”
“Why don’t you kill them all?” she asks.
I tilt my head and look into her eyes. “I kill when it’s deserved. I don’t do it on a hunch. I need evidence, and a crime that fits the punishment. The men in the forest were carrying out the Cartel’s wishes. I don’t know the full story, and I acted hastily. I was crazed by what they did.” What I don’t tell her is that I enjoyed their fear, ate it up before I killed them.
“You should’ve told me everything,” Cataline says. “What made you think it would be better to shut me out?”
“The only people who know my secret are the ones who need to. Where it’s life or death. The staff knows I’m Hero, and mostly what I’m capable of, but only Norman knows injections make me that way. Even Carter is painstakingly kept in the dark about the specifics. When I tell others, it becomes their secret. That puts them in danger.” My hands rub together as I clear my throat again. “But that’s not the only reason. I hated the idea of you knowing that I’m responsible for all the bad in your life. If I’d saved your parents like I was meant to, you wouldn’t be here now.” I can’t stop myself from catching the lonesome tear that slithers down her cheek. “I just wanted to give you back what I took. You deserve to be happy, so I kept all the badness away. What I didn’t know was that I’d become the enemy. That in the end, I would be the one to destroy you.”
In a matter of twenty-four hours, my entire life has changed. The world as I know it has changed. There are superpowers, and people who want to steal me again. What’s supposed to be good is actually evil.
Calvin is watching me, patiently waiting for my response. My eyes dart between his as fast as my brain processes information. “I looked up to Hero,” I say quietly.
He steeples his hand over his nose and rubs his eyes. “I never meant for it to happen this way.”
“How could you do this to me while you’re out there saving everyone else?”
“I’ve always kept you safe,” he says, his voice rising. “I kidnapped you to save you. I know everything about you.” He juts his hand toward the door. “Why do you think the kitchen is stocked with your favorite foods? Everything in your closet is your exact size? Books I know you love, I bought for you.”
“I didn’t ask for any of that,” I say, my voice small.
“It was a mistake bringing you here. I thought I could control my urges, but instead I found new ones. I’ve only ever been with prostitutes or desperate women who let me do anything I want to them.”
My throat tingles. “Why are you telling me that?”
“Because you need to understand the kind of person I am. I’m not built for a girl like you. I’ve broken you over and over. And if you stay here, I will continue to.”
The light pouring in is suddenly too bright, and my wrists throb painfully with the speed of my heart. “If I stay here?”
His eyes drift down to my bandaged arms. He stares and stares until I think he’s never going to speak. Finally, he asks without looking up, “Did you mean to do it?”
“At night I’ve prayed for Hero to save me from you. But he’s not coming. Because you are him, and he is you.” I force myself to also look at the wrists I tried to empty. When the knife sliced into my skin, it was a special kind of ecstasy. Watching the blood pour out didn’t scare me. “I don’t even know how I got there. I just remember the feeling.” I blink up to find his eyes back on my face. “It felt more right than anything I’ve done since I arrived.” The look he gives me could almost pass for anguish if I believed he was at all capable of such a thing. “Yes,” I say. “You bent me so hard that I finally broke. But I loved you anyway.”
The stillness that follows is palpable. I understand that I simultaneously love and hate him the way he is simultaneously good and evil. I can’t grasp why that matters, though, because they just feel like words to me now. The only truth I comprehend is that good and bad, love and hate, right and wrong, captor and captive—none cannot exist without its opposite.
“I’m going to give you what you wanted all along,” he says.
My dry eyes blink slowly. Does he know he’s what I wanted all along? Does he know about the crush I had a lifetime ago, when he was something to look forward to each day?
“Your freedom,” he says. “I’ll arrange it.”
My head is light, my body heavy. This is what I wanted. This is what I ran for, what I jumped for. Any concept of love is irrelevant, because I don’t know this man. I know nothing about my hero, and so, I know nothing about myself. He wields that much power over me. Not only did he take my body, my mind, and eventually my heart, but now he’s ripped me of my sanity, of the capability to feel anything.
I don’t know what he expects from me as he watches and waits. Relief? Defiance? Does he think after learning the truth I could love him enough to stay?
“Okay,” I say.
“Okay?”
“Yes. Make the arrangements.”