Heroes at Heart

Eight: Max Owens

The next morning, as promised, a package was waiting on my front porch. I had overslept, so I was praying that whatever kind of suit Nora had given me fit perfectly. I didn't have time to race down to city hall and return it.

I opened the box at the kitchen counter, as mom and Clare watched over my shoulder.

"Okay," I said. "Moment of truth."

The package crinkled as I reached inside to pull out the cardinal red fabric. I hadn't been allowed to pick the color or design for the suit, but it appeared that, despite her apparent hatred for me, Nora had done well.

"Woah," Clare said. Woah was right.

The suit itself was red, with black and white designs throughout. It was made of a strange material that had a texture similar to reptile skin. But nonetheless, it was mine.

"Hey look!" Clare exclaimed, reaching into the box. She pulled out a mask the same color as the suit.

"Now you won't look like a total dork who stole a mask off some eight year old's ninja costume!"

I stuck my tongue out at her. But like always, Clare was right. This was a huge improvement over what I had worn yesterday.

I just hope that Vinicus didn't care much about first impressions...
________________________________

As I floated through the brisk morning air, I wondered whether this job was really worth the risk. I had messed up yesterday, and I knew that if I kept that up, it could cost me my life.

But I was doing the right thing, right?

The window was still broken when I arrived. I guess when you're a super-villain, you can't just call up Murkbourne Glass Repair to fix all your problems. So, I flew inside.

Despite having black walls and mostly black furniture, the room was well lit. Most likely because this room alone was nearly as big as my entire house. I could see that the cage he had trapped me in yesterday was now in between two black armchairs, with a vase of white roses on its top. To my right, there were what appeared to be elevator doors. To the left was the kitchen, and directly in front of me, with his hands clasped neatly in his lap, sat Vinicus Cauldwell.

I took a slow step backward.

"No, no," Vinicus said. He stood up, while waving his hand as if to beckon me toward him. "Please, come in. I'd love for you to break into my house for the second time this week."

"I'm kind of getting mixed signals here," I replied, taking another step back.

Vinicus rolled his eyes, and folded his arms.

"Why," he said slowly. "Are. You. Here?"

I answered quietly. "The government told me I had to-"

"Sit down," Vinicus commanded, nodding his head toward a chair just to my right.

"...I'm sorry?" I asked.

"Sit down." He repeated.

I stood there in confusion, as Vinicus continued to glare.

"You... wait, what?"

Vinicus let out an exasperated sigh, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm better at monologuing when I'm taller than you," he said under his breath.

"You what?"

"Sit!" He yelled, pointing at the chair. I obliged, worried about what would happen if I didn't.

And as promised, I got a lecture.

"You were lucky to make it out the first time, Owens." Vinicus was pacing in front of me. "You should've gone home, and you should've stayed home. But what did you do?" he asked. Vinicus had clasped his hands behind his back, as he leaned closer to my face. I knew it was a rhetorical question, however I felt as if I should answer.

"I-" I started

"You came back," he finished. "And why did you come back Max? Surely you didn't have to, no, you chose to."

If only he knew.

"So," he said, leaning away from me, and beginning to pace again. "I'm going to tell you something right now, and you are going to listen." Vinicus stopped in front of me.

"This job is too dangerous for you. I'm too dangerous for you."

"But-" I protested

"Shh shh," Vinicus said, his index finger on his lips. "Listen." His voice was quieter now. "Whatever kind of government sends a kid like you to fight me is screwed up beyond belief."

And for a moment, I didn't see Vinicus Cauldwell standing there in front of me. I saw a twenty-something-year-old, who had real, genuine emotions. As many times as I had seen Vinicus on the news, I had never really seen him as a person.

"Look," I started. "I don't know how you're going to take this, but I have to either kill or arrest you. They're making me come back every day until I do."

If Vinicus was surprised, he didn't show it.

"They?" He asked.

"The city. Nora Cotreau. All of them, they just..." I trailed off. I would sound like a wimp if I said that they bullied me into it. And I would sound like even more of a wimp if I told him that our family needed the money.

"They what, Max?" Vinicus asked quietly. His brow was furrowed, and he looked genuinely concerned.

And the funny thing is, I almost told him. I almost described in great detail the way that Nora had forced this upon me, about my mom who had just lost her job, about my sister who just wanted to be noticed for something other than her disability. Because right now, Vinicus didn't look like a super-villain. He looked like a person.

I almost told him everything, but I didn't. Because I reminded myself that he killed his sister, so why would he care about mine?

"Nothing," I said firmly. "Forget it. It doesn't matter."

This had to be a game. It was all a game. He wanted me to trust him, to tell him all my sorrows, so that he would have control. And I wasn't going to let him have control.

But look of concern didn't leave Vinicus' face; not after he changed the subject, and not as I flew away.

I tried to forget about it, but I couldn't shake the thought from my head.

The thought that Vinicus Cauldwell was a person, just like me.