Sidekick Returns

by Auralee Wallace

  Sidekick Returns

  Auralee Wallace

  www.escapepublishing.com.au

  Sidekick Returns

  Auralee Wallace

  Bremy St James is back in a brand new adventure, mixing chaos, humour, sex, and superheroes in this fresh, funny, flirty series. It’s the superhero romance you didn’t know you needed…

  Fresh off thwarting the crime of the century, Bremy St. James is back and more determined than ever to fight by the side of the city’s top superhero, Dark Ryder. There’s just one problem: Dark Ryder’s disappeared.

  To make matters worse, Bremy’s evil billionaire father, Atticus, is taking her lack of family loyalty very personally, and Bremy’s last tie to her old life, her reason behind her choices—her sister—is distancing herself as well.

  With Atticus plotting revenge and Dark Ryder missing in action, Bremy has to make a choice: flee the city and leave her problems behind, or stay and make her dreams of superheroism a reality all on her own.

  Who knew being awesome would be so hard?

  About the Author

  Auralee Wallace has played many roles in her life, including college professor, balloon seller, and collections agent. When this semi-natural blonde mother of three children (and psychiatric nurse to two rescue cats) isn’t writing humorous novels about quirky characters, she can often be found pontificating about the Golden Age of soap operas or warring with a family of peregrine falcons for the rights to her backyard.

  Acknowledgements

  First, I would like to express my gratitude to Kate Cuthbert and Escape Publishing for making a home for Bremy St. James, and to Belinda Holmes for encouraging me to believe in my voice. Also, thank you to my agent, Natalie Lakosil, for her ever-watchful eye and for taking my work to exciting new heights. Thanks to my parents and all of my extended family for keeping their fingers crossed every step of the way on this crazy journey, and a special shout out goes to my sister for her social media gusto. Next, there’s Andrea … because nothing happens without Andrea. She’s the best beta reader an author could hope for, and she’s also pretty good at coaxing people out from under the bed when all seems lost. Finally, I would like to express my love and gratitude to my husband, who works so very hard to make all of our dreams possible. You have never once expressed anything less than excitement at the prospect of my pursuing a career in writing—and that has made all the difference.

  To my three mini superheroes

  Contents

  About the Author

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Bestselling Titles by Escape Publishing…

  Chapter 1

  Don’t do it, Bremy.

  My eyes cut through the thin space between the dumpster and the brick wall. Down the alley, a large man with a clean-shaven head stood beneath a window, hands reaching up for the flat-screened TV inching its way towards him. A beat-up van idled a few feet behind.

  Burglars. Perfect. I couldn’t ask for a better crime to bust. Not too scary, but not too wussy either, like jaywalking or littering.

  Just pull out your phone and call 911.

  I reached around my sleek utility belt, but instead of grabbing my phone, I slid my fingers over the smooth, cool metal of my handcuffs.

  Seriously, Bremy. He’s big. Are you seeing how big this guy is?

  Oh, I was seeing. My eyes trailed over his body-builder physique, but I knew his size wouldn’t stop me. I had been skulking in the shadows of the city almost every night now for weeks, searching for a moment like this. And now it was here.

  Yup, nearly a month had passed since I helped my mentor and superhero, Dark Ryder, stop the crime of the century—the unleashing of a techno-zombie army by my father, billionaire and evil genius, Atticus St. James. It had been an apocalyptic Freudian moment. The greatest triumph of my life. Bremy St. James had finally proven herself to be more than a pampered celebutante. In my mind, it had been the start something. I’m not entirely sure what that something was supposed to be, but it definitely involved Dark Ryder and me, standing side by side, fists planted on our hips, looking super heroic in our super awesome crime-fighting outfits. Unfortunately, that mental snapshot was not giving me the all-over happy feelings it used to. Why? Because I hadn’t heard from Ryder. Not a peep since that fateful night at the prison when I had put it all on the line. I had tried tracking her down, but she must have switched lairs, and she hadn’t bothered to leave me a forwarding address. I snapped my vision back to the man in the commando-style jacket getting ready to make off with the TV. I clenched my fists. I could do this. Crime fighting wasn’t just about size, strength, skill, and power. I licked my lips. It was about gumption, bravery, and the element of surprise. Even more important, I had come to realise that in order to be a crime fighter, you actually had to fight crimes. And I would. Tonight. Everything was about to turn around for The Sidekick.

  That’s what I was going by now. A news anchor had come up with it, and who was I to question free publicity?

  At first when Ryder had disappeared, I’ll admit my self-esteem, feeling all cold and alone, had tangoed with the dark side for a night or two. The thought actually occurred to me that maybe Ryder did not want to mentor me anymore. I mean, sure, she had said as much a time or two early on, but in the end I had totally proven myself. Ryder had seen it, and so had Choden, her adoptive father and mentor. So something must have happened to her, and as her sidekick it was my job to find out what that something was. I ground my feet into the gritty pavement, trying to find the right grip, and adjusted my belt. This is a terrible idea.

  The time was almost right.

  I suppose my mission to find Ryder didn’t exactly explain what I was doing crouched behind a dumpster, getting ready to launch myself at a burglar at least twice my size. Truth be told, I’d love to explain that, but I couldn’t. At least not in a way that made a whole lot of sense. It probably had something to do with the memory of my father trying to kill me—like, he actually tried to kill me, hands around my throat, murderous gleam in his eye, the whole bit. I wasn’t really thinking it had left me with a death wish. At least, I was hoping it hadn’t. There were still a bunch of items I had to cross off my bucket list, like beating a Bond vil
lain at baccarat and maybe owning a blender. Focus, Bremy. Focus. But there was definitely something going on with me. I inhaled deeply through my nose then immediately regretted that decision. Alleys, what with their cats and rotten leafy greens, were not good places for steadying breaths.

  You don’t have the sense God gave a goat.

  I peeked around the corner again. I would wait just a minute or two longer, until the big guy on the ground was holding the entire weight of the TV, and then, I would strike. I ran my fingers along the metal of my handcuffs once more. It was a simple plan really. The best ones usually are. All I had to do was sneak up on the bad guy, get the handcuffs on him—which shouldn’t be too hard what with the surprise factor and his holding the weight of the TV—then call the police. He’s going to snap you like a twig. Easy peasy. And as for his partner in the building? Well, he would most likely hightail it out of here once he heard me calling the cops—which was totally fine. The two of them will break you in half like a wishbone. One arrest was a good start, after which I could vanish seamlessly into the dark of night.

  Now I just had to do it.

  Don’t do it!

  ‘Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!’ I shout-whispered to myself.

  It’s not like I didn’t know this was a terrible idea, but I also knew, with everything in me, I was going to do it anyway.

  Electric nerves fired all over my body. I could barely stand to be in my own skin. Time to get this show on the road.

  I crept around the back of the dumpster, shoulderblades flattened against the slimy metal. The large flat screen was tilted half out the window, my target supporting all the weight.

  Go time.

  Warning bells dinged in my head as I quickly shuffled towards him, still crouched. I was almost on him. The man was so focused on balancing the weight of the TV that he didn’t see me coming. I sprinted the last few feet, swung my hand into the air, and slapped the cuff smack over his right wrist.

  The man’s eyes widened. ‘What the—’

  ‘Oh my God! It worked!’ I yelled, jumping up and down. Wait! The other wrist! How was I going to get the cuff over to the other wrist? My eyes widened in horror as I took in the implications of the man’s arms being spread wide to hold both ends of the TV. We stared for a moment at one another. I took a few backward steps.

  This was bad, bad, bad.

  I really needed to go.

  I was just about ready to turn and hightail it when the giant spoke. ‘Did Jimmy send you?’

  I stopped. ‘Um …’

  A slow smile spread over his face. ‘He did, didn’t he?’

  ‘I …’

  ‘That’s why you’re in that get-up.’

  I couldn’t help but frown a little. This was no get-up I was wearing. This was beauty and power in a bodysuit. Midnight made liquid and poured over my body. This was designer structure that lifted, separated, and amplified. This was superheroing personified … or garmentified. The mask alone was …

  ‘You’re like a stripper.’

  Okay, that called for a little eye widening. ‘What?’

  ‘Right. Right,’ he said with a stupid knowing smile. ‘You’re a superhero stripper. Tie me up with your sexy ropes and stuff.’

  My eyebrows shot skyward. ‘Um … ew.’

  ‘Let me guess, you’re from The Gentleman’s Club on Fifth,’ he said, jutting his chin in the direction.

  I planted my hands on my hips. ‘I’m not a stripper.’

  ‘The Diamond Bunny on Boardwalk?’

  ‘No!’

  Suddenly his nose wrinkled in disgust. ‘Not The Pink Beaver?’

  My jaw dropped, but I brought it up quickly with a snap. I did actually work at The Pink Beaver, but only as the gopher, and that was only because my terrifying psychopathic landlord, Mr Pushkin, insisted I take the job. ‘I’m not a stripper.’

  ‘What? You’re just the driver?’ he asked, looking behind me for a car. ‘Come to take me to the party?’

  I brought pinched fingers up to rub my temples. This wasn’t going the way I had planned it at all. ‘Party?’

  ‘My bachelor party,’ he said, grinning ear to ear. ‘I’m getting married tomorrow.’

  I smiled. ‘You’re getting married tomorrow? Congrat—’ I caught myself. Don’t congratulate the criminal, Bremy. I resumed my stern stare.

  ‘Wait, shouldn’t you already know that?’ His brow furrowed as the wheels of his brain turned.

  ‘I do. I do … ha! Get it. I do.’ I chuckled nervously. ‘Anyway, I was just thrown by the fact that you’re getting married tomorrow, and you’re stealing TVs tonight?’ He looked down at the TV as if he had forgotten he was holding it. Must be nice to have biceps the size of fetal pigs.

  ‘Gotta pay for the wedding somehow.’

  ‘Right.’ I nodded. ‘Right.’

  ‘Hey,’ he said. ‘Don’t judge. You’re a stripper.’

  ‘I’m not a—’ I caught myself and took a steadying breath. It was time to get this crime bust under control. I had a bit of situation here, with Hercules only wearing one cuff. The sane option would be to cut my losses and run. I mean, I could still call 911, but suddenly I had an idea.

  ‘So, do you want, like, an early bird dance?’ I asked, shooting my eyebrows up in two short bursts.

  He shifted the weight of the television around while considering. ‘I kind of thought I’d have a drink first.’

  ‘Come on,’ I said, planting my hand on my hip. ‘Put the TV down, and I’ll give you a little pre-game show.’ He shrugged and did as he was told. This was perfect. I would distract him with my sexual prowess, saunter on over and slip the other cuff over his wrist … just like I had seen in every movie made before the year two thousand.

  He crossed his arms over his chest. ‘Bring it.’

  I took a breath and shook my arms out. Huh, suddenly this felt very awkward, like all my limbs had just grown an extra foot, which was kind of crazy, because I had seen women dance lots of times at work. I knew how it was done. I gave my hips a few experimental waggles. The big guy cleared his cleared throat.

  I looked up at him from underneath my eyebrows. He had his hands on his hips, and his head cocked to the side like he couldn’t quite figure out what I doing. ‘You need to relax more.’

  I blew a piece of hair away from my sweaty, masked face, ‘Thanks.’ Right, relax. I took a deep breath. Relax. Let your body lay the trap with its seductive swing. Let your limbs sway with—

  ‘Maybe try less hips and more shimmying on the top,’ the big man interrupted.

  ‘You know what?’ My arms flopped down to my sides. ‘I can’t do this.’

  He made a carry on motion with his hands. ‘Keep trying. You’ll get it.’

  I looked up at the night sky and shook my head. ‘No, I mean, I really can’t do this. There are just certain points in your life when you have to decide what kind of crime fighter you want to be, you know? And I don’t think I want to be this one … a shimmying one.’

  His brow crinkled again. ‘I don’t follow.’

  ‘Here, let’s try something,’ I said, walking past him towards the van’s back door. ‘Give me your wrist. The one with the cuff.’ He furrowed his brow.

  ‘Come on.’ I made a quick roll with my hand. ‘We don’t have all night.’

  He held out his wrist, metal bracelet dangling. I grabbed the empty cuff and quickly snapped it to the backdoor handle.

  His eyes narrowed. ‘What are you doing?’ I held one finger up while I walked a few steps away, heart pounding in my chest. Once out of earshot, I grabbed my phone, dialled 911, and quickly gave the dispatcher the details. Now it was time to celebrate.

  I spun on my heel and planted my fists on my hips.

  The big bald man still had his brow furrowed. ‘Who did you just call?’

  ‘911,’ I said, with the fullest, deepest voice I could manage.

  Thunder gathered all over his face as he yanked at the cuffs at his wrist. ‘You are so dead,’ h
e growled.

  I chuckled heroically, just the way I had practised at home in front of my mirror. ‘I think not. You can consider yourself served.’ My eyes squinted, thinking faster than my mouth. ‘Wait. That’s not right … and … oh shoot!’ I rummaged around my belt. The note! I had forgotten the note! How could I forget the note?

  I found the folded piece of paper tucked away in one of my many pockets and unfurled it. It read:

  You’re Welcome. The Sidekick.

  I knew a thing or two about marketing, and this here was my slogan. I couldn’t exactly strike fear into the hearts of the criminal population until I got my legend going.

  I looked back at the grunting man before me, and took a tentative step forward. ‘I don’t suppose you’d put this in your jacket pocket?’

  He answered me with explosive yanks on the van door.

  ‘No?’ I shuffled back quickly. ‘It’s fine. Never mind.’ I looked around. I had to leave it somewhere where the cops would find it. ‘Maybe I’ll just put it on the ground h—’

  Suddenly a voice boomed from above. ‘Hey!’

  My head shot down into the cavity of my shoulders. The voice had come from the same window as the TV. I knew I should probably look up at the threat, but I wasn’t quite ready for that yet.

  A smile spread across the big man’s face. ‘You’re in trouble now.’

  ‘I forgot about your partner, didn’t I?’

  He nodded. ‘My brother. We’re twins.’

  ‘You don’t say,’ I mumbled, gearing myself up to turn around. ‘I’m a twin too.’

  He rubbed he side of his nose with his cuffed hand. ‘No kidding. Identical?’

  ‘Uh-huh,’ I said, near whispering. ‘You?

  He nodded.

  ‘Oh boy.’

  Chapter 2

  I sighed and peeked over my shoulder. Yup, I saw a carbon bald-headed copy of the man I had just cuffed to the van looming out from the window above.

  ‘Nuts.’ I spun on my heel and launched myself towards the street.

  I heard the brother jump from the window and hit the pavement.

  I sprinted down the alley, but I couldn’t help but take one glance over my shoulder and—