The Night Vigilante

V. Grace

A./N= *i might edit this agin later...

V. Grace

            “Where are you,” his hard voice snaps at me.

            I pull up the hood to my jacket, sighing inaudible. “I’m going home, I felt a bit sick.”

            There is silence on the other end and I’m pretty sure Thatcher knew I was lying.

            Regardless though, he takes the easy way out, saying, “Fine.”

            “Did you hail a cab?” he asks me. Distantly, I can hear the beat of the club in the background, the sound of hollering and laughter ringing through.

            “Yup,” I lie, again.

            “I’m serious Grace, I can’t have you running around town at night,” he says, his tone frustrated.

            “Relax Thatcher, nobody will recognize me,” I say.

            “That’s not the point Grace,” he snaps. I shut my lips, knowing that he was angry, again.

            “Listen, I have men out there doing some business that I asked them too and it will get dangerous,” Thatcher grounds out, like he’s talking to a child.

            Somewhere in the back of my mind, I thought about snapping my phone shut and telling him to piss off. He didn’t care about my safety out of love or affection. He treated me like a commodity, something of his belonging that was too valuable to lose.

            Because let’s face it, if he lost me, he would lose the extra money and power my family could add. Thatcher was working hard for an election and in ordered to be elected, he needed to show the city that he was The Major to vote for.

            “What do you mean doing business,” I ask lowly, crossing the street.

            Thatcher is silent and heavy weight drops into my heart, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand.

            “Thatcher,” I ground out.

            “Shut up,” he barks at me. “Just get out of the streets. I can’t have you getting murdered now can we?”

            I snap the phone shut, ready to string a list of profanities at him. We both know that my family needed his family more than they needed us. The deal was that they would be able to pay off the debts set on my family while I married Thatcher to somehow increase his power- the details were still fuzzy.

            Business.

            It was no secret that Thatcher hated the Vigilante. Thatcher openly told the public that he was going to focus on hunting down the vigilante- a criminal and violent psychopath in a mask (his words).

            I walk faster, a feeling of foreboding anxiety settling deep into my bones.

            As soon as I reach my brick, two story house, I waste no time.

            Sprinting up the steps to the door, I step in cautiously, fumbling for the lights.

            The lights flicker on and as I carefully shut the door behind me. My eyes skim over the entire house.