James Knight: Teenage Superhuman - Book Two

Twenty-Eight

"Oh, shit," I exclaimed, shocked, as I watched a low-quality video of our incident at the burger joint. It was impossible to make out any recognizable faces, but my dad instantly recognized us as he sipped his beer.

"Exactly," my father scolded as they replayed the clip on the news again.

Noah, Sam, and Henry were also in the room, repeatedly watching the video as the reporters wrapped up their story for the hour.

"What on earth were you thinking?" my father growled.

"Dad, I..." I stopped myself, knowing that anything I said wouldn't help. Then, I composed myself and tried again. "I've been talking with everyone, and we all want to become superheroes like I was in Arizona, but this time with masks and actual suits," I announced. My dad nearly spilled his beer, causing it to splash everywhere and crushing the can.

"Are you kidding me?" Henry exclaimed, wiping beer off his face with his shirt. My dad was perplexed and speechless as he tried to figure out what to say.

"You know, I've been thinking about that," Sam agreed, tilting his beer can. "You guys might have a chance after this stunt. The people love you guys. Besides, you need to learn at some point."

"Not helping," Henry muttered to Sam. Sam rolled his eyes and continued. "I'm serious," Sam insisted. "You guys have superpowers. You can do things that the police force can't, and you can make a difference—"

"Do you think I want my teenage nephews and niece parading around town in costumes, putting themselves in danger just because they want to play hero? Come on, Sammie," Henry argued.

"My dad is right for once. Max is out there robbing banks and doing things that your police officers can't stop, and you're going to let us sit around wasting our powers because you're afraid," Noah interjected, tapping his temple. "I can read minds. I know what you're thinking."

"Noah, I..." Henry was momentarily speechless, attempting to find the right words to explain his motivations toward Noah. But I sided with Noah and Sam, and it seemed like my father finally did, too. "This city needs our help, especially with Max and Mia still at large," Noah told Henry, mocking me. Henry sighed, pausing for a moment as he contemplated the offer. Then he took a deep breath.

"Do you two promise not to cause chaos in the city?"

Noah and I nodded in agreement. "Scout's honor," Noah replied, raising two fingers.

"Nothing will be destroyed? You won't be throwing buses or tearing down buildings with your super strength or telekinesis..." Henry inquired.

"We already promised you. For fuck sake, what more do you want?" Noah snapped. Sam cleared his throat in the background, giving him a disapproving look.

"We promise," Noah continued. "Claire's uncle has already promised us uniforms if we work for her uncle at Junkies Diner."

"Perfect," Henry said. "I can provide you boys with all the high-tech police equipment as long as we keep this between ourselves."

"We know," Noah sighed. "You can risk your job and get into a lot of trouble, blah-blah-blah..."

"Noah," Sam growled at him.

"I'm sorry, okay? Jeez," Noah said. "We promise we'll behave. I'll inform Bryce and Mark, and maybe Grace and Derek—"

"I'll talk to Derek," Henry acknowledged.

Noah crossed his arms over his chest and let out a sigh. "Fine," he huffed. "You'll talk to Derek."

"Great," Sam said, blowing air out of his mouth. "In the meantime, I'll train you guys in the backyard."

"More training?" I grumbled.

"Yeah," he replied. "If you want to be city superheroes, you have to train with me."

"Listen, I'll only consider this because you have good intentions. I might even pay you under the table," Henry offered. My dad nervously chugged the rest of his beer.

"Hell yeah," Noah exclaimed.

"But you have to train with Sam, understood?"

Noah and I nodded. "Yep," we agreed simultaneously. It wasn't my dream job, but it reminded me of what I used to do in Arizona. I missed our old house, but that was in the past. I was going to be Alpha once again.

∆∆∆

GRACE

I was twelve years old the first time I saw Derek. I was at their house, searching for my father, when I caught sight of him. Derek was a nerdy tween with braces, oversized glasses, and a fondness for hoodies and sweatpants. He entered through the front door and found me sitting in the living room.

"Dad, a girl is sitting in our living room," Derek yelled, his voice still squeaky from puberty. But he was still the identical, beautiful cousin I knew and loved.

I waved at him, trying to get him to join me, but his dad shouted, "I'm busy, Derek." I smiled at him and gestured for him to sit with me again, silently watching old-school cartoons.

"James?" Derek called out.

"I'm coming," another squeaky voice replied from upstairs. Soon enough, young James appeared in the living room, gazing directly at me. I also studied him, intrigued by his superpowers, before I heard footsteps thumping down the staircase.

"Derek, James," my father called their names. Both boys turned their attention to the stairs as Sam descended. My dad froze in place as his eyes met mine.

There was silence in the room, so quiet that you could hear a pin drop, and he called my name. "Grace?" he said. I panicked internally, unsure what to say, and swiftly approached the doorway.

James tried to stop me, but I darted past him, watching him stumble across the room and crash into the staircase. I was gone within seconds, hoping never to see my father again.

Fast forward a few years, and I lived with my Dad, doing the one thing I had promised myself I wouldn't do: teaming up with him.

But if Noah, Bryce, and I could do it, I believed Max would join us someday. However, it seemed more like a dream than a reality.

"What's on your mind, Grace?" Derek interrupted me as we watched a horror film in the living room. It was just the two of us since everyone else had gone to sleep.

"Nothing," I replied, taking a hesitant breath. "I heard something about Henry hiring us as private agents," I said, fluttering my eyelashes at him.

"Yeah, but if you don't want to do it—"

I cut him off. "Oh, I want to do it, mate," I stated.

"Well, then it's settled. James's girlfriend knows someone who can create professional costumes."

I snorted. "Someone who knows someone?" I raised an eyebrow and chuckled.

"I'm serious. And Henry mentioned he could provide us with technology and access to police calls and databases, all under the table."

I rolled my eyes. "When has that ever worked out, Batman?" I chuckled again.

"You're such a jerk," he groaned.

"But you love it, lover boy," I teased, stretching out on the couch with my legs resting on his lap.

"Cool," he said. "Sam will talk to us more about it in the morning. Good night, Grace," he said, getting up from the couch.

"Good night, rookie," I said, grinning. He nodded at me before lying down on the floor below the couch.

"If you step on me in the morning, I won't hesitate to throw you against the wall," he muttered, grabbing a pillow. He placed it under his head and closed his eyes. At that moment, I reached down and lightly kicked his back. "I'm serious, Grace," he growled.

"Fine," I groaned. "Good night." There was no response as I waited for him to say something, so I closed my eyes and focused on breathing.

"Good night, Grace," he finally murmured.

"Good night," I grumbled. Eventually, as he started snoring, I slipped away, and the world gradually faded into darkness.