by C. C. Ekeke
Before Hugo knew it, he’d told Presley everything. Dad’s suicide, the Liberty Park beatdown, downing two bottles of Nyquil. Even his dreams about Titan right before these powers manifested. Not even Simon or his family knew about that. While Hugo mentioned getting stood up in Liberty Park, he never mentioned Brie's name or their history. No need to further embarrass himself.
The whole time, he felt Presley’s eyes burning into him.
“After Dad’s suicide,” Hugo went on, “I hate myself for nearly putting my family through that again.”
His voice grew thick with grief. Yet Hugo couldn’t stop talking. “But everything hurt.” A sob rocked his body. “I…I just didn’t wanna be here anymore.” Tears spilled from his eyes. He couldn’t face Presley after becoming this blubbering mess. Hugo struggled to compose himself, waiting for her to leave in disgust.
Gentle fingers guided his face toward hers. Presley’s almond-shaped eyes held such tenderness. Her kisses were loving and unhurried, easing Hugo’s pain.
Presley stood and took his hands. “C’mon,” she whispered.
They collected their clothes and headed down to the eighth floor. Instead of dressing and returning to the booming party, Presley guided a shell-shocked Hugo back to the lavish apartment.
It wasn’t until they stood in an expansive bedroom with Presley unfastening her lingerie that Hugo grasped what was happening. Panic flooded his brain as hunger burned through his loins. He stepped back. “Wait…” Potential consequences smacked him in the face. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Under the dim lights, Presley stood naked. She stepped forward, fearless and head-to-toe gorgeous. “You won’t,” Presley stroked his cheek. Her touch was heaven. “I trust you.”
She drew him into another kiss. Passion crackled up Hugo’s spine.
And like that, his fears vanished. Presley weighed almost nothing when Hugo gathered her up in his arms and carried her to bed.
Everything afterward was a blissed-out blur…
Chapter 15
Hugo couldn’t stop smiling. Presley was snuggled on his chest, asleep and peaceful. Hugo hadn’t slept much, barely feeling tired. Besides, he and Presley hadn’t done much sleeping last night. His smile broadened. Things had been amazing.
Hugo was settling in for some actual sleep when his hearing picked up voices down the hall.
“You left my door open again.”
“Well, that party was pretty kickass.”
Hugo stiffened. The apartment’s residents. Their footfalls marched down the hallway.
Hugo jabbed Presley, forcing her awake.
“Wassup?” she asked blearily.
“This place’s owner is coming,” Hugo explained, slipping out of bed.
Presley sat up, wide awake. “Oh shit!”
“Yeah, shit.” Hugo found their clothes in a pile at the foot of the bed.
Outside, the footsteps reached the front door. They were out of time.
Presley slid out of bed, naked. “We have to get dressed—”
Hugo was a cyclone of motion, snatching up their clothes. Seconds later, both he and Presley stood fully clothed.
She swayed, gawking at herself. “Holy Methuselah!”
Whoever was outside heard that. “Someone’s in the bedroom!”
That was their cue. Hugo swept a still stunned Presley off her feet. “We’re gone.” He rocketed out of the room, the winds generated by his speed barreling three guys over like bowling pins.
Minutes later, Hugo and Presley were a few miles away outside. The couple walked hand in hand down empty boulevards flooded in dusky predawn purple. San Miguel was a ghost town this early on Sundays, except for a few cars cruising by, dosing vagrants and SMAT trains rumbling underground. A further listen told Hugo that most of the city still slumbered. From the corner of his vision, he caught Presley stealing looks. Did that speak highly or badly of last night's performance? Anxious, Hugo turned the next time Presley gazed up at him. Her cropped hair was unkempt and sticking in several directions, like his. Presley’s eyes burned hungrily before she looked away again. An unusually shy smile graced her lips, stirring Hugo's loins again.
“What?” he finally asked. What’s she thinking? Anticipation was driving him nuts.
“Nothing.” Presley shook her head. “I just…I did not see you coming.”
Hugo could hear her heartbeat thrum faster. His face warmed under her stare. “Me neither.” Now he was bashful, turning away.
Presley laughed. “So you usually see yourself coming? Another of your many powers?”
“Shaddup!” he snapped, his tone laced in amusement. Who was this girl bringing out all these feelings in him? This girl unashamed to be with Hugo in public? “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah…” Presley breathed, and her pulse quickened. She cleared her throat. “Wanna grab breakfast?”
“Sure,” Hugo said, an idea springing to mind. “Before that…” He stopped, gently pulling Presley closer. She watched him with expectant eyes.
Hugo’s head swam a little. “Can I…show you something?”
When she nodded, he scooped her up in his arms again, making her squeal. After scanning the street to ensure no one was watching, Hugo hurtled toward his destination.
A minute later, Hugo whooshed into the grungy back alley of Huntington Tower, blowing stray trash everywhere. Presley looked rather windblown, to Hugo’s amusement. He stared up the length of the fifty-nine-story building, now feeling tiny. When testing his powers these last few months, he’d made this jump half a dozen times. But not carrying a passenger. Hugo gulped. Maybe this isn’t wise…
“A building?” Presley followed his stare sourly. “Hugo, you shouldn’t have.”
The snide remark was a kick in the ass. Hugo drew Presley closer in his arms. “Hold on.” He crouched, tapping in to his power. The very ground vibrated beneath him, energy pooling within his bent legs—ready to erupt.
Hugo leaped straight up, up…and away.
Air rippled in his wake, buffeting but never slowing his muscular frame. Presley instantly wrapped her arms around his neck like a constrictor. Hugo watched her head swivel, drinking in San Miguel’s lofty structures rising around them. She glanced at Hugo with bulging eyes, half-laughing and half-squealing. In those moments, she looked her age. A teenager on a thrill ride.
Hugo smiled at her as they climbed higher. After months of Hugo testing his limits, the rush of leaping tall buildings in a single bound wasn’t new. But the sensation never grew old.
Within seconds, they vaulted over the building’s roof, almost clearing it.
Presley shrieked, burying her head in his neck.
“Presley,” Hugo said, calm and collected. “Look at me.”
After a few hesitant seconds, Presley dared to meet his gaze.
Hugo positioned his leap perfectly enough where he’d lose momentum above the rooftop. And while Hugo still couldn’t fly, last week he'd found some way to control his landings.
Now he dropped himself and Presley down to the roof as slowly as could be managed. Essentially, he no longer left craters in the ground when landing from massive super-leaps.
“Presley,” Hugo repeated her name whisper-soft, “I got you.”
Presley relaxed in his arms. Her wide eyes never left Hugo’s as he slowly took them down. He gazed upon her vulnerability, the shape of her lovely face. When they touched down, Hugo finally remembered to breathe. Presley sighed and rested her forehead against his. Her body warmth and racing heartbeat thrummed through him, a glorious feeling in this cold predawn.
Presley glanced down and recoiled. “You’ve been holding out on me.”
Hugo frowned, not understanding. “What?” He scanned around downtown San Miguel’s gloomy vista. Everything seemed high off the ground. He looked down, gaped, and looked again.
Hugo remained a few feet over the rooftop—floating in midair.
He yelped, body going rigid, and dropped like a stone.
Presley squealed and clung to him. But Hugo tossed her into the air to avoid impact. Landing hard on his back stunned Hugo but didn’t hurt.
Fear filled him as Presley plummeted. Hugo rose to a knee, catching her. She felt so light and breakable. “You alright?” he asked immediately.
“Yep!” Presley patted his cheek, wild-eyed and giggly. She was unhurt, easing Hugo’s panic. “I’m guessing that’s not what you wanted to show me?”
“Not exactly.” I can kinda fly… He filed that amazingness away for later celebrating. Hugo stood, placing Presley on her feet and nodding at the roof’s edge.
Presley followed his gaze as the morning sun peeked over the horizon. Crimson and gold splashed across the sky’s pinkish expanse. The stars once speckling the night had faded from normal people’s vision. Hugo could still faintly spot a million pinpricks of light ceding to the dawn. Rays of fiery sunlight bathed San Miguel’s downtown corridor, reflecting off rows of towering office buildings and high-rises. From downtown, Hugo saw the sunlight spread beyond the San Miguel coastline over the deep-blue sea miles to the west. All around him, the City of Wonder was waking up.
And Hugo’s breath was stolen again as Presley scurried to every edge of the rooftop. “Saw this a few weeks ago practicing my leaps,” he explained. “Didn’t know if I’d ever have anyone to share this with.” Hugo quieted to appreciate Presley enjoying this.
And she did, giggling at the sparking ocean to the west, drinking in the gilded sunlight over Mount Bishop and Paso Robles’s hills to the east. Hugo sensed her heart slow, race, then slow again over the surrounding beauty. A wondrous sound.
“Oh my God,” Presley whispered. Hugo smiled.
After lapping around the rooftop four times, Presley stopped and turned to him. The wonder, warmth, and hunger on her face revealed her feelings. Without any doubt.
Hugo looked down, overwhelmed. This can’t be real, that familiar self-doubt scolded.
Presley approached, expression unchanging, leaving Hugo unmoored. He leaned in as Presley stood on her tiptoes for a lengthy, urgent kiss. The sun continued ascending. Hugo’s heart soared with it.
A little later, he and Presley sat holding hands on the rooftop edge. Their feet dangled over the side while San Miguel woke around them. Hugo couldn’t help sneaking in random and eager kisses with Presley, feeling tingly and giddy. The currents between them hummed like electricity.
“Question?” Presley asked.
Hugo kissed her forehead. “Shoot.”
“How are we getting down without drawing attention?”
Hugo considered that a moment. After the mess caused from his first building leap, he'd since hopped from building to building until finding one low enough to the ground. But since Hugo had company, only one logical answer came to mind. “We take the stairs."
Presley made a rude, dismissive noise. “How ‘super’ of you.”
“Fuck off,” Hugo threw back. He kissed on her forehead, then her mouth, lingering a while...
Hugo practically skipped while racing home. He'd just dropped Presley off after a long breakfast. Last night and this morning couldn’t have gone more perfectly. If Hugo smiled any harder, his mouth might have gotten stuck.
When he got home, the aroma of scrambled eggs, sautéed green peppers, and onions saturated the house. Mom was cooking breakfast today. Sweet!
AJ lounged on the couch watching that crappy Extreme Dreams show. Blur was getting lectured by teammates Safeguard and Rushmore. Apparently, his relationship drama was affecting his leadership. “Unscripted” arguments ensued.
Hugo rolled his eyes and shut the door. “Sup, Angelo.”
“Hey, Bogie,” his younger brother greeted without looking.
Mom popped out from the kitchen, dressed in navy-blue sweats with her thick black hair tied in a bun. “And he returns!” She gave her eldest a big hug. “How was Simon’s?”
Hugo thought about Presley's soft skin, her longing eyes. His smile somehow widened. The sound of a car slowing in front of the house drew him out of his lust haze. “Awesome,” Hugo sighed.
Mom looked pleased by his answer, then gestured to the kitchen. “Want breakfast?”
Hugo considered saying no. He and Presley had devoured tons of pancakes. But his stomach was a furnace now. “Had breakfast before, but I…” Hugo’s voice trailed off.
Voices from that car near their house sounded familiar.
“Get me closer.”
“That’s as close as we can get, bro.”
“Fine, I’m doing this.”
“Make it quick. Make it quick!”
Hugo recognized those voices—right outside.
Mom frowned at his silence. “What’s wrong?”
Swift footfalls raced up the front lawn. There was a grunt as someone hurled something heavy.
Hugo’s gaze flitted to AJ, watching TV, oblivious to any danger.
“Down!” Hugo roared, startling Mom and his brother.
The first rock smashed through the window with a loud keesh. Hugo lunged across the living room so fast, everything but AJ became blurry streaks.
He yanked AJ off the couch by his collar and to the floor more forcefully than intended. Then Hugo shielded him. A brownish rock landed on the coffee table, glass shards spraying across the couch where AJ had been sitting.
Mom’s screams filled the room. Hugo raised his head, hearing two more rocks hurtle forward. One sailed through the already broken window. Another rock shattered another window, racing at Mom’s face before she’d could duck.
No! Hugo zoomed forward, everything blurring. He pulled Mom behind his durable physique, shielding her with a raised arm. The rock exploded apart on his forearm.
Footsteps scurried away from the house, followed by car doors slamming. Hugo glared out the smashed living room window as a cherry-red Ford Mustang sped away. The driver and the occupants howled with laughter. Suddenly, last night and this morning’s bliss were faraway memories.
Hugo assessed the damage and his scared family. Glass shards littered the living room. “You alright?” he asked Mom.
She nodded, trembling all over. Hugo turned to AJ and gasped.
His little brother rose up, wincing. Red blood trickled down his right hand.
“Oh God...Angelo!” Mom rushed over to inspect AJ’s gash.
“It’s nothing,” he said. “Put my hand on the carpet and glass sliced it.”
Hugo glared out the window, boiling. He could hear the Mustang less than a mile away, and the trio celebration inside. DeDamien, Cody, and the asshole who’d thrown the rocks. “Sebastian!” Hugo snarled. His fury skyrocketed, so ungovernable that a red haze stained his vision. He marched toward the front door to hunt those motherfuckers down.
Mom dove in front of him. “Bogota, no!”
Hugo had no interest in debating. His hands twitched, eager to pound Baz and his cronies into paste. Their boasting faded the further they drove. “Move.”
Mom remained defiant. “Not happening!”
“WHY?” Hugo erupted at her. “I heard them! Baz, Cody, and DeDamien! They have to pay!”
Mom grabbed his face. “By chasing them at superspeed? Then what?” She shook Hugo, angry like him. “Rip their car doors off and expose yourself? You think we can hide you from OSA after that?”
Who cares? Hugo almost shouted. But he studied Mom's features, saw her fear. The same fear from their last major argument. Seeing his mother afraid of him sliced through that unyielding rage. He jerked away from Mom’s grasp and paced like a caged lion. He wanted to destroy those cretins. Baz had crossed the line. But Mom was right. In this state, Hugo might end up killing that boy.
AJ cradled his bleeding hand, grimacing. “Did you at least get his plate numbers?” he asked.
Hugo thought about it. “They were in a red Mustang…” Recalling now, he never checked the license plate. Meaning that Baz and crew could deny their crimes. Hugo clutched his head in frustration. “Fuck!”
“They can’t do anything,” Hugo finished for her. In short, he had no proof of Baz’s crimes besides his heightened senses. “It’s not fair!” he yelled, feeling helpless.
“I know.” Mom placed an arm around AJ’s shoulders, guiding him toward the stairs. “We’ll call the police after I tend to AJ’s cut. Take the eggs off the stove and clean up the living room.”
Hugo seethed in silence, watching Mom and AJ head upstairs. He despised Baz so thoroughly, the revenge fantasies filling his mind scared him. Even more reason to follow Mom’s orders. Do nothing.
Hugo entered the kitchen to take the eggs off the stove, agreeing with Baz on one thing. Their feud wasn’t over. Not until I end it.
Chapter 16
The door opened slowly, and a chatty conversation from outside spilled into the dark room.
Greyson instantly recognized the two silhouettes entering and flicked the switch. Light flooded the space, revealing his sister Sara’s stunned face.
“Surprise!” twenty people boomed, including Greyson, Lauren, Greyson’s father and mother. The rest were a gaggle of Sara’s close friends. Everyone fit in the rented-out party room at the back of Waterfire Pub and Diner.
“Happy birthday!” the group then bellowed out.
Sara Hirsch jumped back and gaped. She wore stylish vintage clothes, hair teased up on top and flowing down her shoulders. “WHOA?” She glanced at the friend accompanying her. “I can’t believe it!”
“Oh, you definitely believe it,” said Greyson, drawing laughs. Dressed in a dark-red button-down shirt and loose slacks, he strolled up to his younger sister, smiling broadly.
“Okay, a little,” Sara admitted with a grin, drawing bigger laughs.
“Happy birthday.” Greyson hugged his sister firmly. Her reciprocation was a welcome distraction from the paranoia ruling his life these past several days. If I smile big enough, no one will guess what’s wrong.