Super Zero

by Rhonda Stapleton

  While I debated how to talk him into my let’s-flee-to-Mexico plan, Vigilante pulled into his driveway, parking the motorcycle in his garage. I heard Corey barking frantically from inside the house.

  Holding up a finger, Vigilante wordlessly ordered me to stay put then slipped into the house, closing the door behind him.

  I chewed on a fingernail as I stood beside the bike, waiting impatiently for his return. And a little frustrated that I had to wait outside, to be honest.

  Vigilante came back out several minutes later, pushed the motorcycle out onto the driveway and got back on. “We need to go. I think someone’s been here. We’ll crash somewhere else tonight.”

  “What?” Oh God, someone knew I’d stayed here. Maybe they thought they could get the jewel. “Is Corey okay?”

  “Oh, yeah, he’s fine,” Vigilante said. “I fed him and sent him over to the neighbor’s house for watching. They help me out when I need it.”

  I didn’t move, suddenly overwhelmed with panic and paranoia. Someone had known where I was going to be, had known I was giving the changing crystal over to the next superhero league.

  I wasn’t safe anywhere.

  Vigilante revved his engine. “Hey, we need to go,” he repeated, waving a hand in front of my face. “Now.”

  I shook myself out of the paralysis and got on the back. “Let’s head to a hotel and figure out our next step,” I finally said.

  We flew down the road to a one-story motel several miles away. The motel didn’t even bother to have a name—the blinking red sign said “Motel.”

  Technically, it said “Mote” because the “l” light wasn’t on. Super classy.

  Vigilante parked the bike, and we went through the front door, a little bell dinging as the door smacked against it. A huge black cockroach skittered across the floor in front of my foot.

  I jumped back, horrified. Oh, nasty. You see places like this in the movies, but not in real life. No way in hell was I crashing in one of their rooms.

  “I can’t stay here,” I said, clutching his arm. “Please. I don’t care what it costs, I’ll pay. I’ll sell my liver for a room in a Holiday Inn tonight.”

  Vigilante chuckled. “Sorry, but we need somewhere discreet. I’ve stayed here before. It’s not as bad as it looks. Suck it up, sidekick.”

  He walked over to the front desk, nestled behind bulletproof glass. Not exactly a comforting sign. A moment later a greasy, beefy guy with a graying combover, wearing the requisite mustard-stained wifebeater and ripped sweatpants, waddled over to the desk. “What.” Not even a question, but a statement.

  Vigilante slid a fifty to him through the cupped indentation on the counter. “We need a room.”

  The guy perked up instantly at the sight of money. He leaned over, his hot, stinky breath puffing through the speaking slots in the glass. My nose wrinkled of its own accord as I tried not to breathe too deeply. God only knew what airborne diseases I could catch from this atmosphere.

  “And who might I say you are?”

  “We’re Mr. and Mrs. Jones,” Vigilante said in a droll voice.

  The guy raised an eyebrow, looking me over.

  “We’re on our honeymoon,” I said brightly, playing along. “You know, newlyweds in love.”

  Greasy Guy shrugged, rolling his eyes. “Whatever. Follow me.”

  The door beside him opened, and he came into the lobby, holding a small, tarnished key in his hand. He led us outside then walked about five rooms down. After unlocking it, he pushed the door open, waving us in.

  “Congrats. Have a delightful marriage,” he mumbled, cramming the key into Vigilante’s open hand.

  We closed the door behind us, and I looked around in the dimly lit room. The floor was pressed brown dingy carpeting and looked like it was covered with one huge stain. The full-sized bed sagged pitifully in the middle, covered in the most unattractive bedspread I’d ever seen. It was neon orange with purple and green paisleys. Oh God, we were going to have to share a bed. Well, this was going to be fun. Not.

  There was a rickety white dresser to the left of the bed. As I looked at the dresser, a massive paint flake fell off the top drawer, breaking into little white pieces on the floor. Nice.

  I headed into the bathroom and flicked the switch on, looking at my reflection in the mirror. One dull, iridescent light came on, bathing my skin with a barfy green tone. Wow, even without the terrible lighting, I looked absolutely horrible.

  No wonder Greasy Guy was giving us a weird look. I carried the entire woods in my ratty, dirty hair. Small scrape marks from branches sliced across my face and neck, leaving little strips of dried blood everywhere.

  The lighting sucked, but at least the faucet ran with clean water, thank God.

  “I need to shower,” I said from inside the bathroom. Even in this crusty “mote” room, the shower looked like the most beautiful thing in the world to me.

  I heard the bed groan in misery as Vigilante sat down. “Be my guest,” he said.

  I opened a fresh bar of soap and stripped off my clothes, careful to exercise caution with the crystal still nestled in my pants pocket. Hot water blasted through the showerhead when I turned the faucet. I stepped inside, letting the hot, hard water pound the top of my head. I scrubbed my hair and scalp first with the soap, which wasn’t optimal, but I guess beggars couldn’t be choosers. Then I slathered my face and body, making quick work of cleaning my skin.

  Shower done, I dried off with the mangy thin scrap of cloth they called a towel and wrapped it around my torso. Next I scrubbed my underwear in the sink with a fresh bar of soap and hung it up to dry on the towel rack. At least I’d worn a cute pair today.

  The rest of my dirty clothes lay in a pile on the floor. God, I didn’t want to put them back on. Maybe I could stay in the towel for a while.

  I exited the bathroom with the clothes in my arm, piling them on top of the dresser. Vigilante quietly observed me. I could feel his eyes grazing my body. I suddenly got hot all over, remembering the last time he’d seen me without clothes. And how I’d seen him—or rather, had felt him.

  “I’m done showering,” I said, trying to talk past the lump in my throat from the heated gaze he was giving me. “I promise I’ll put my clothes on in a bit. I just don’t want to get dirty again.”

  He nodded. “Is there another towel in there for me?”

  Oh, crud.

  Come to think of it, the bathroom only had one towel. The one currently wrapped around my naked, still-damp body. I guess the owner thought honeymooning couples could share everything, huh.

  I shook my head.

  Vigilante raised one eyebrow at me, gave an excessive yawn and stretch of his arms and rose from the edge of the bed. “Man, I’m beat. But first I want to shower. I’m gonna need that towel.”

  Even as my skin tingled at the promise in his words, a sudden flash of confusion took over. Oh, so that’s how it was? He wanted to get all flirty now, after pretending for the last several days that nothing had happened between us? And after I had the day from hell?

  Well, fine. Time to trump his hand.

  Mustering all the courage I had, I unwrapped the towel from around me, tossing it at him. “Here you go.”

  I quickly turned away and waltzed back into the bathroom so I wouldn’t have to see the look on his face. Hey, I wasn’t that brave.

  Silence. Not a word came from Vigilante. Maybe he was horrified at my brazen sluttiness. Maybe flinging the towel at him wasn’t the best idea.

  I groaned and leaned across the sink toward the mirror, pressing my forehead against the cool glass. How could I be so stupid? How did I misread him so badly? Maybe I could sleep in the tub—

  A warm hand moved across my lower back, sliding around to stroke my lower belly. Vigilante’s hot mouth slid across the back of my neck, his tongue licking the sensitive skin.

  Embarrassment faded away as pleasure took over. Oh God, that was more like it. I turned around, perching my butt on the edge of the s
ink counter, and wrapped my legs around his waist to draw him closer. His shirt was already off. I caressed the hard planes of his pecs with the tips of my fingers.

  Vigilante leaned in close, his eyes locking with mine. The intensity in his gaze stunned me. “I want you so badly. I haven’t been able to get you off my mind.”

  I started to speak, but he stopped the flow of my words with his mouth. I tugged him closer for a deeper kiss, relishing the feel of him against me again. His mouth opened, and I licked his upper lip. He moaned against my mouth, pressing his hands against my back to draw my pelvis against his.

  I finally pulled away. He stripped his pants off and flung them into the room. I bent over and turned on the tub faucet, wanting to shower with him. Vigilante shut the bathroom light off.

  I froze in the darkness. “How am I supposed to see you?” I said.

  Even in the dark, I heard the smile in his voice. “You need to touch, not see.” I heard him remove his mask and drop it onto the sink counter, then start the shower up again.

  He guided me into the shower, and I grabbed the bar of soap, ready to lend him a helping hand. And any other part of me that could help too.

  Chapter 12

  My cell vibrated from its spot on the dresser. I woke out of a dead sleep, dipped precariously in the middle of the bed. My back screamed from being cramped on such a lovely, lumpy mattress overnight.

  Vigilante wasn’t in the room. I hoped against hope we wouldn’t go through a repeat performance of the last time we slept together. I didn’t think I could handle it.

  I grabbed the phone to see who was calling. It was Mason.

  “Thank God,” he said, his voice urgent. “I’ve been trying to reach you all night. Where are you?”

  “Sorry. I didn’t hear my phone because it was on vibrate. I’m—” I stopped, a sudden suspicious thought taking hold as a few pieces of the ambush mystery locked together in my still-groggy brain.

  How did those guys know where to find me and the changing crystal?

  I glanced at my purse, the receipt I’d snaked from his supercar sticking out the top. Mason had made a deposit of a cool million, possibly under the table. What if he’d been paid off by someone to tell them where I’d be?

  Wow, was I suspicious. I didn’t have any proof of this mad theory. I couldn’t help thinking about it, though. The less apprehensive part of me said Mason could have been set up by someone else so he’d look guilty. But until I could prove something, one way or the other, I was better off not trusting him. Because whether I liked it or not, it seemed someone in the League of Heroes was a mole, playing for the other side. And I was going to have to figure out who it was.

  Or kiss my life goodbye.

  “I’m safe,” I finally settled on saying. “I’ll come by the office today so we can figure out what happened and decide how to handle the crystal.”

  At the very least, I could do a little investigation there into this matter and see for myself if Mason was involved or not. It was a public building, so I doubted any harm would come to me there. If Mason was a bad guy, he wouldn’t reveal himself in front of everyone else, would he?

  I felt a bit uneasy about the plan, but it was the only one I had right now.

  We hung up, and I padded into the bathroom to grab my hand-laundered underwear, hoping they were dry enough to wear. Oh, they’d dried, all right—into a stiff, itchy u-shape.

  Fabulous.

  I rubbed them rapidly between my palms to loosen the fabric then threw them on, cringing as the abrasive material rubbed my skin. They actually made a crunching sound when I slid into them. I’d definitely be swinging by the apartment to change clothes before going to work. No way would I last a whole day in these.

  How in the world did people in the olden days do this? All their clothes were washed by hand and line-dried. God bless the people who invented the dryer and fabric softener.

  I dusted off my clothes and threw them back on, heading into the room. The door opened, and Vigilante strolled through.

  “Oh, you’re finally awake,” he teased. A McDonald’s bag was cradled in one arm, and a drink tray holding two Styrofoam coffee cups in his other hand. He had to be psychic, because I was just thinking I needed a coffee pick-me-up. “I brought breakfast.”

  Vigilante handed me the coffee, then put the bag on the edge of the bed and unpacked the contents—three egg McMuffin sandwiches and two hash browns.

  How sweet. “Thank God, because I’m starving.” I took a drink of the steaming coffee, letting the liquid caffeine hit me.

  We grabbed a sandwich each and started eating. I tried to remember to chew as I stood against the wall, stuffing the sandwich into my mouth as delicately as possible.

  “I need to go to my apartment,” I said around bites. “Then I have to go to work.”

  He stopped, mid-bite, shaking his head. “No. Too dangerous.”

  “I have to. Something fishy’s happening.”

  His eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “I think someone in the League of Heroes ratted me out.” I took another swig of coffee. “Those guys were waiting for me and Mason to arrive.”

  Vigilante took a draw from his drink, his eyes staring over my shoulder as he pondered my words. “You’re right. Someone on the inside definitely knows something. Have any suspects in mind?”

  Mason’s face popped into my vision, but I pushed that idea down. No sense condemning the man until I had some evidence. “Not yet. But I need to meet with Mason to see what happened after we left.”

  He nodded and took another big bite, chewing with gusto. “I’m going with you.”

  My heart fluttered with joy, and I took another nibble of my sandwich to mask my pleasure. I was hoping he’d say that. I certainly didn’t want to do this alone, but I also didn’t want to keep asking for his help.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  He shot me a small smile and shrugged one shoulder. “Just doing my job.”

  Maybe it was the after-sex glow I had going on, but I was on to him now. This had to be more than just a “job.” Unlike after our first time, the post-coital awkwardness this morning was thankfully nonexistent.

  And last night had been so, so hot. I never knew showering in the dark could be so sensual. The man continued to amaze me.

  We finished our meal and hit the road, heading to my apartment first. I keyed the door and slowly pushed it open, on guard. A quick look around confirmed everything was in its place and undisturbed.

  I sighed in relief. “Okay, you can chill here on the couch until I get some fresh clothes on.” I darted back to my room, grabbing a clean outfit from my closet.

  I headed to my drawer to find underclothes and saw my sidekick uniform. After eyeing it for a minute, I grabbed it too. I put the wrapped jewel on the mattress and tossed my dirty clothes into the hamper, wishing I had time to burn them. I put on my fresh panties and a bra and slid into the uniform, then got dressed, gingerly transferring the jewel into my new pants pocket.

  “Let’s roll,” I said as I emerged from my room. I was ready to start investigating what happened at the barn

  Vigilante was squatted on the floor beside my purse, which had apparently fallen over off the coffee table. All my belongings were tossed out across the carpet.

  “Sorry,” he said, shooting a quick glance up at me. “I knocked it over.”

  “That’s okay,” I said, helping him clean up the mess. I flushed at the sight of my tampons scattered on the floor, so I scooped them up and thrust them into the bottom of the purse.

  Once that was done I locked my front door, and we headed out of the building. Since work was only a few blocks away, we hoofed it over.

  “Good morning, Jenna,” Carrie said as we stepped off the elevator. “You have a message.”

  I grabbed the message slip from her. “Thanks.”

  Jenna, your sister wants you to call her when you’re alone. She tried calling your cell, but got no answer.
<
br />   Maybe Amy had some news for me. I pocketed the note, making a mental note to call her.

  “Just my sister, probably nagging me about something,” I tossed over my shoulder.

  I led Vigilante to Mason’s office, not even bothering to knock on the door, just pushing inside. When we entered, Mason stood from behind his desk, lines etched in his face.

  He came over and hugged me tight. I was so knocked off-balance by the unexpected move I didn’t get a chance to hug him back before he released me.

  “I was so worried,” he said, genuine concern written into his voice.

  He was? Maybe Mason wasn’t the bad guy here. After all, if he were he’d be more relieved to see me gone than safe. But then again, the receipt from his supercar, now nestled in my purse, nagged at the back of my head. Why would he get such a huge payoff in a lump sum like that, if not for ratting me out to the villains? Maybe he was just faking his worry.

  “I helped Jenna escape,” Vigilante said, his voice a bit chilly. He pressed his palm on the small of my back, a gesture of protectiveness that did not go unnoticed by me. “She’s fine.”

  “Do you have the crystal?” Mason asked me, not even sparing a glance for Vigilante.

  “I left the cooler there and hid the jewel in my clothes—wrapped up, of course. It was easier to escape that way. The jewel is perfectly safe now.” I resisted the urge to pat my pocket, for some reason not wanting to reveal that I currently carried it.

  Mason nodded. “We need to meet with the rest of the League of Heroes and see what to do next. I already told them what happened yesterday. We’ll hand the crystal over to them for safekeeping.”

  Vigilante coughed quietly. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. One of them knew the crystal was going to be there. This was an inside job.”

  Why was he telling Mason this? He was giving our hand away. Then I realized what he was doing. Vigilante was smart. Smarter than I’d given him credit for. I hadn’t told him Mason was under suspicion but Vigilante must have figured it out, hence the frosty demeanor toward him. Probably wasn’t that hard to come up with Mason’s name, actually—if I’d made that conclusion about Mason, it was reasonable to think Vigilante would too.