Damsel[ed]: No Rescue Required

Chapter 18: A Monster

Meanwhile in Angelos' POV....

Traitor.

The word pounds in my ears with each step. I kick open the lobby's door. With each breath, the world grows clearer.

My "brother" betrayed me.

The night presses against my skin, wind tugging my clothes. I race into the city, the blast of car lights burning my eyes. I press my hands against my face to shield it from the chilly air, dragging myself from the urban setting and into the park.

Tree branches smack my limbs as I trace deeper into the park's forest. Traitor. Traitor. Traitor. The word echoes with the thrum of my heart. I remember the name-calling, the play-fighting, the teasing. All fake. I bet he conspired with Cat from the beginning.

I breathe in the earth and evergreen. Moonlight drips through the waving pines, pressure sitting on my chest.

When Gatsby kissed her, he made a choice. Me or Cat. His friend or that girl. I lean my back into a tree, grinding my heels into the dirt. Bark splinters in my palms and I glare at the saucer in the sky.

How could he? I close my eyes, my sanity unraveling like a stupid string doll.

I shout curses at the night. With each cry the pain eases, and I continue until my throat burns. I...I'm out of my mind. I press my hands deeper into my face, skin burning from the splinters.

"Better?"

Thump!  I slide my fingers down my cheeks, staring at the ground.  My head throbs, and I don't look up, fixing my eyes on a familiar pair of purple boots.

"How do you find me so fast?" I ask, my voice hardly a whisper in the darkness.

"Superhearing," Galaxy shrugs, "thought you were in trouble so I came."

"Oh." I blush, chest filling with guilt. She could be fighting supervillains instead of talking to me! "I'm sorry."

"No, no," she says, tilting my chin so I'm forced to look her in the face, "it's fine. Care to tell me why you're screaming in a park at night?'"

Her violet eyes blaze with curiosity, and I spill the story. Every word sucks my strength. The super runs her fingers over the lower half of her face, her gaze shifting towards the stars. By the time I'm done, a blankness falls over my thoughts. After several long moments, the super shrugs. "Gatsby? I met him when I took you home. He's a kisser."

"Huh?" My fragmented brain refuses to compute the simple statement.

"You know, like Harley Quinn and Bugs Bunny."

I close my eyes, pressure mounting behind my skull. "I haven't watched a cartoon since I was eight. I don't get any of your references."

She sighs. "He kisses girls. A lot. For more reasons than undying love."

I give myself permission to nod. Sounds like him. "Did he—"

"Kiss me? The guy practically attacked me with them! Barely escaped alive." Her eyes dance. "Though I'm not too upset about getting kissed by a hot British guy."

"Uh-huh." My lungs constrict, the world swimming. Cat probably thinks the same.

Galaxy stretches, arching her back with a yawn. "I wouldn't over think it—"

"Over think it!" I cry, throat scratchy. "She was in his room! And he kissed her! On the mask! What type of person does that with his best friend's enemy? And not my teenage-angsty-high-school-enemy either, but the person who tried to break my jaw!"