A Hesitant Hero (Book 2): Some Kind of Hero

by S. J. Delos

  I repressed a little shudder. Kurt knew exactly where to touch, kiss, or lick to get a reaction. I let him kiss my neck twice more before I finally turned my face toward his.

  “Okay,” I said, still pouting a little. “I forgive you for thinking that it seemed like the problem wasn’t really a problem. I mean, you are sort of right, it does seem a little stupid to be angry about the nomination. Hell, I would probably think the same thing if it were Greg or Alexis who was bitching about being nominated.”

  “Then why are you so twisted up over it?” he asked, his hand moving up to replace his lips. Its partner went to work on the other side. Both worked in tandem, massaging my shoulders. The tension bottled up in them started to dissipate.

  “Because it’s stupid. How can I be Hero of the Year when I haven’t even been a hero for a year?”

  “Well, to be fair, you’ve probably done two years’ worth of hero-ing in the past six months. I mean, you stopped Colossal from destroying downtown, got Colonel Tank off the street, and prevented Power Brain from creating another Activation Day-like disaster. You’ve also been a constantly visible presence in the sky, allowing the people of Charlotte to sleep soundly at night.”

  I shrugged. “I didn’t do all that to win some award.”

  The massage deepened, nearly derailing my train of thought. God, the things that man could do with his hands. I was still sitting under an annoyingly moody cloud, but as the tightness lingering in my shoulders became less pronounced, it seemed as if the sun was going to shine through.

  “I know that. That’s what makes all the stuff you’ve done all the more impressive. You’re out there giving it your all not for recognition, but out of …”

  “Atonement,” I whispered.

  His hands stopped in mid-knead. I could have screamed.

  “I was going to say ‘concern’.” He leaned around, looking into my eyes. “Are you still trying to punish yourself for being Crushette?” When I didn’t answer immediately, he sighed and leaned back against the pillows. “Karen, two years you spent in prison was your penance. And let’s not forget it wasn’t just any prison, either. I’ve heard people say two years in the Max is like twenty years someplace else.”

  I shrugged again, already knowing where this conversation was heading. It was something similar at least twice a month. Each time, it was the same old arguments.

  “Two years in jail and six months as a hero doesn’t begin to balance the scales of being the cohort of one of the evilest men to ever walk the planet,” I said. “I’m not sure anything ever will.”

  One of his hands reached around to brush across the section of the sheet covering my abdomen. “It wasn’t just two years you gave up.”

  I trembled a little as I reached down to remove his hand from my mid-section, intertwining his fingers with mine. I lifted his arm so I could kiss the inside of his wrist.

  “It’s not just the nomination, Kurt,” I said, changing the subject. “It’s how everyone is reacting to my reaction. They’re shocked I’m not bouncing around all excited. Instead, I’m trying to not be an utter bitch about not being thrilled.”

  “Let me guess, Alexis is one of those practically bouncing around with joy?”

  “Kurt, I thought she was going to phase right out of existence. Of course, Greg is being all professional-like. When I told him that I wasn’t going, he merely asked me to provide a legitimate explanation as to why. I expected him to get mad or something, but he was actually almost apathetic.”

  “The banquet isn’t for a couple of weeks. Maybe he didn’t get upset because he thinks you’ll change your mind.”

  I shook my head. “There’s no way I’m changing my mind about this. Besides, Richard is going as well. I prefer not to spend any more time around that asshole than can be helped.”

  Kurt sighed. “You really need to let it go, hon. He’s apologized like, what, a hundred times? Besides, how do you avoid being around him when you both live in the same building?”

  I reached up to roll several strands of my copper-colored hair through my fingers. The chin-length bob seemed to be taking forever to grow back out.

  “I stick to the lab, the hangar, the gym, and my room. Plus, I sleep here half the time and take as many patrol shifts as Greg will allow.” I glanced at Kurt, still holding the strands. “It’s not just the hair, it’s the way the whole mind-coercion thing feels afterward. It was just as horrible as it when Daniel did it.”

  “The difference being that Daniel was controlling you on purpose,” he countered. “Richard wasn’t. From what I understand, he thought he was just making an off-hand comment. I don’t believe he actually meant for you take his suggestion at face value.”

  I huffed dismissively.

  A week earlier, I had been sitting at the kitchen table eating a pilfered bowl of Alexis’ favorite cereal and reading the newspaper. My hair—just a few inches past shoulder-length—kept falling into my face despite repeated attempts to get it to behave.

  Richard, sitting at the other end of the table, watched me fight with the rebellious strands for several minutes. Then saw fit to offer a sliver of his unwanted opinion.

  “You know, you wouldn’t have that problem if you got your hair cut short,” he said gesturing at his jaw with his fingers. “Plus, it would probably look cuter.”

  Under normal circumstances, I probably would have informed him that I didn’t really care what he thought. He was in a relationship with Omega-Girl which told me all needed to know about what the leader of The Good Guys found attractive. Unfortunately, the circumstances were not normal.

  Richard possessed the ability to project a charisma field around himself. While not technically mind control per se, it did have the ability to make those affected see him in a very, very favorable light. When you were under the field’s influence, it was as if Richard was your oldest, dearest, most trustworthy friend. One who would never in a million years steer you wrong.

  When Power Brain used his Enhancement-altering device on Richard, not only had Daniel been able to copy the ability onto himself, he changed the polarity of Richard’s field into one of extreme loathing. It had taken all of my willpower to restrain the head of the team to keep him from self-harm without punching his head off myself.

  Daniel also used his newly acquired ability on me, nearly turning me into his obedient little concubine.

  Since then, Richard worked really hard to keep his powers in check, to only use them in the course of stopping the bad guys. However, as to be expected, he did have the occasional accidental slip. The very moment he suggested I do something with my hair, I abandoned my half-eaten breakfast and flew off to see my regular stylist. Thirty minutes later, several inches of my hair was gone.

  So was my patience.

  Richard jumped up from his chair when he saw me burst into the kitchen with murder in my eyes, holding handfuls of shorn locks clenched tightly in my fists. If Alexis and Greg hadn’t also been in the room, I would have likely gone back to prison. This time for murder.

  The moment the realization of what he did registered on Richard’s face, he began apologizing profusely.

  “Shit,” he said, backing away from me. “Karen, I didn’t mean … Oh, I’m so sorry.” He glanced at Greg. “It was an accident.”

  Right before I could grab one of the world’s richest men to twist him into a balloon animal, Greg’s hand wrapped around my arm, pulling me back. At the same time, Alexis slipped her hand into Richard’s and shifted them both into an intangible state.

  “Stop, Karen,” Greg ordered. “Before you do something you regret.”

  “Like rip his tongue out so he can’t make any more fucking suggestions?” I yanked my arm free and held up the clumps of hair. “Look at what you did, asshole!”

  “I’m sorry, Karen,” Richard said, rubbing a hand across his ghosted face. “I’m so, so sorry. I wasn’t thinking and lost control. Please, please believe me. I never meant to influence you.”

  Al
exis remained silent, glancing between Richard and me as if she couldn’t decide if she were more shocked that I was sincerely going to kill Captain Awesome or how short my hair was chopped.

  I threw the crimson strands on the floor at his feet, pointing them. “Take a long, hard look, Captain Awesome, because the next time you use your goddamn powers on me, accident or not, it’ll be your head down there.” I sneered and whirled around to stomp back to my room. “Just stay the fuck away from me. Otherwise, I might ‘accidentally’ break your neck!”

  In the days since, Richard did an excellent job of not being in my vicinity as well as avoided speaking directly to me. Over the past four days, the only communication between us was via radio link.

  I sighed. “I know it wasn’t on purpose, Kurt. Alexis and Sonya have repeatedly told me it will grow back.”

  He put his arms around me again. “Nobody is expecting you to just forget it happened. I’m sure that Richard is mortified about what he did. But you can’t be antagonistic to him forever. If this incident is something that you truly cannot get past, maybe you should quit.”

  I turned around to look at him with a gaping mouth and wide eyes. “Do what?”

  He shook his head. “Not being a hero, Karen. Just quit The Good Guys.”

  “Then what? Move to Greensboro? Raleigh?” I laughed, feeling completely humorless. “That would work out well. I’m sure the League of Heroes would welcome me with open arms. You know, as long as they aren’t still pissed I put most of them in the hospital a few years ago.”

  “You could go solo. With your power set, you’re practically a team by yourself.”

  “I’m not that powerful, Kurt,” I argued.

  “Are you kidding me? You’re super strong, nigh invulnerable, and you can fly. Not to mention heartbreakingly beautiful. Hell, throw in some heat vision, a little freeze breath, an allergy to emerald-colored meteorites, and you’re Supergirl.”

  I leaned away, giving him a stern look. “I am not flying around, fighting crime in a skirt, Detective. No matter how flattering you try to be.” I shrugged. “Besides, I’m not blonde.”

  He kissed the nape of my neck once more. “Can’t blame a guy for wanting to see his girl show off her legs,” he said, sliding off the bed to walk toward the bathroom. He glanced back with a wry smile on his face.

  I returned the grin as I pushed the sheet off me, leaning back on my elbows. “Is it just my legs you like?”

  The grin on his handsome face widened, and he returned to the bed, leaning down over me. He sank to his knees, placing his hands on top of my thighs, thumbs simultaneously stroking the sensitive flesh on the insides. “Why don’t we start there?”

  An hour later, I lay in the tangled sheets, staring up at the ceiling. Kurt was in the shower, alone despite his multiple invitations to join him. The patter of running water was the only sound around as I basked in the slowly diminishing high, letting his words run through my thoughts.

  Richard used to be so flippant about using his powers on people. Even on those he supposedly cared about. Look how many times he ended a fight with Darla just by making her feelings toward him change? However, since being on the receiving end, he’s been so nice to her. Like he knows she shouldn’t forgive him, but is still trying to earn her pardon.

  Maybe I should let it go. I mean, it wasn’t like Richard compelled me to shave my head. Plus, I would be totally lying to myself if I didn’t think, at least on some level, that the shorter ’do was not only sort of cute, but very functional. Especially when flying.

  I crawled out of the bed and pulled on my clothes. I liberated a large sweatshirt from Kurt’s drawer to slip on over my tee.

  Kurt’s voice drifted from the open doorway. “You know, since you’re already here most nights, maybe you should take advantage of the empty drawers and extra closet space I made for you. It would keep you from having to pack an overnight or having to wear the same clothes.”

  I chewed on the inside of my lower lip. Kurt first made the not-completely-offhand comment about us living together a couple of weeks earlier. When I nearly choked on my beer in response, he quickly backpedaled, claiming it was a joke. However, since then, he managed to offer the “suggestion” a few more times.

  I was still getting used to being a bona fide hero with a best friend who didn’t think of terrorizing Norms as good times, a public that no longer feared me, and a boyfriend who was both sweet and sexy. That was a Karen who was finally understanding her new life.

  While I wanted to share everything with Kurt, I wasn’t quite ready to give up my individuality to be the other half of a couple.

  You could say I had some psychological scars when it came to dating. Imagine that.

  “Uh, that’s certainly something sort of like an idea,” I said to the showering policeman as I slipped my feet into my sneakers. “I’m going downstairs.”

  “Alright, I’ll be down soon,” came the muffled reply.

  I bounded down the steps into Kurt’s kitchen. The place looked like it was currently doing double duty as also a makeshift office. There were file folders strewn across the table next to an open laptop. A second computer sat on the counter next to the stove.

  “Jeez,” I said to the empty room. “Is this what he does when I have to work all night?”

  I set a pot of coffee to brewing and dug a cinnamon-raisin bagel out of the bag on the counter, tossing it into the toaster oven. As I waited, I plopped down in one of the chairs, attempting to stack the jumbled files out of my way.

  On a whim, I picked up one of the thick manila folders. The label across the tab at the top read: #458121: DALLAS, LORRAINE (LORI). An EAPF case file.

  I glanced up at the ceiling. Super hearing also wasn’t one of my powers, so I couldn’t tell if Kurt was still in the shower or not. I started to put the folder back onto the pile, hesitated, then flipped it open as curiosity got the better of me.

  My eyes skimmed over the facts embedded within the document. Apparently, Miss Dallas, age twenty-six, came home from work early one evening to discover her fiancé, Peter Monroe, age thirty, enjoying some bedroom recreation time with another woman.

  As could be expected, Miss Dallas decided to do a little pounding herself. She attacked her soon to be ex-fiancé and his lover. It would have been nothing more than a typical domestic disturbance. Unfortunately for the woman scorned, she was an Enhanced with Class Two strength.

  Because of her Activated genetic status, she was charged and convicted of felony assault. That gained her an eighteen-month sentence in the Max. However, due to her behavior, she successfully gained parole after serving only eight.

  “Good for her,” I murmured.

  I didn’t condone beating on a Norm, but I could certainly understand how someone’s temper, Enhanced abilities or not, could get the better of them. Plus, the fact that her victims walked away with only a few broken bones served as a testament to Lorraine’s self-restraint.

  I would probably go all She-Hulk, too, if I caught Kurt porking some floozy.

  I started to close the file when the typeset at the very bottom of the page caught my eye.

  Miss Dallas’ parole approval was dated two days prior. The name of the officer assigned to keep an eye on her, to make sure she stayed straight? Frederick Bollins.

  I felt my stomach roll as I glanced to the other side of the folder. Staring back at me from a 3x5 photo was a pretty blonde with a friendly smile and bright green eyes.

  “Motherfucker,” I growled.

  Kurt strolled into the kitchen. “Hey, where’s lunch. I expected to see a full buff…” He took a dozen quick strides over to snatch the folder from my fingers. If not for surprise making me let go, it would have been in two.

  “Kurt,” I said, trying to think of a way to explain.

  “Karen, this is a confidential file,” he said, pointing at the big red letters on the front that backed up his statement. “You aren’t supposed to be reading it.”

  I nodded
. “Yes, I know. But Kurt, I have to tell you…”

  He shook his head. “Karen, there is a level of privacy that ex-felons, especially Enhanced ex-felons, are afforded once they’ve been paroled or pardoned.” His eyes stared hard at me. “You, of all people, should know this.”

  My face burned as if I just got caught with my hand in the collection plate at St. Francis. Of course, he was right about the level of confidentiality that ex-offenders were given by the EAPF. It was mostly to allow them to create new identities, as well as a chance to get away from the bad influences and choices responsible for their initial incarceration.

  But I also knew something I was sure he didn’t. Something to do with the piece of shit that poor girl was going to have to deal with for the next two years.

  “Kurt,” I said as I stood up, pointing at the file. “You have to do something about her.”

  “Like what?” he asked.

  “Get her a new parole officer.”

  He sighed, looking confused. “Karen, do you know how hard it is to get someone willing to be responsible for the continued good behavior of an Enhanced criminal? Most parole officers refuse to work with anyone with powers, much less someone with super strength and a history of violence.”

  I blinked. Seriously? “A history of violence? Jesus, Kurt. She found her guy in bed with another woman. Of course she went a little off the rails. But she was a model prisoner with no further incidents. She’s not a violent person. Fred Bollins cannot be her parole officer. That guy is a serious slimeball.”

  “I admit he’s not the most … savory of people,” Kurt said, flipping open the file to look at the name at the bottom of Lorraine’s report. “But he did volunteer to take her case. Plus, he has one of the lowest rates of repeat offenders in the state.”

  I shook my head. “It’s not because he’s this incredibly supportive guiding light.” I pointed at the file again. “Answer this, how many of Fred’s parole cases happen to be young females?”

  Kurt shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not the only agent who sends cases his way.”