Big City Hero UNOFFICIAL BOOK TWO

Chapter Twenty-One: Identity Crisis.

"You no good for nothing rotten flea-bag!" I yelled. "That was MY lasagna! Not yours! Who do you think you are?"

Kevin continued to sit on my bed and lick his tomato sauce covered ginger face, ignoring my pain and my rant. The cat purred like he just got away with murder. Murdered my lasagna. My favorite lasagna in the whole world that I've been saving for an entire twelve grueling hours, the longest any Italian food has stayed in my fridge, was eaten by my cat.

"Are you ignoring me, Kevin?" I whispered menacingly. I was fuming that he ate the last piece of lasagna that 'mom' had made me. How dare he. Traitor.

At the sound of his name, Kevin looked up and meowed softly. He looked me in the eye and slowly blinked, purring loudly and looking beyond content.

"You're such a kiss up, cat," I grumbled. Unable to resist his sweet cat face, I scratched his ears and patted his head. "So much for trying to discipline you." I looked at the empty plate in my hand and sighed. "And so much for lasagna for breakfast."

The banana I ate instead was hardly any consolation.

A few minutes later, I was out the door and going for my usual five in the morning jog. Surprised? So am I. With Avalanche from Walk the Moon blasting a little too loudly in my headphones and the odd feeling like I was being watched, I let my mind wander to whatever caught my attention.

Smokey, of all the superheroes, had to be the next one to be taken. She's as kind-hearted and innocent as they come, one of our last honest superheroes who just want to help people. Her parents freaked out when I told them what happened. With her little sister back in the hospital, it was only a guess whether Smokey would make it back in time to say goodbye.

I ran faster like I was trying to leave those thoughts far behind me. It was no longer a jog but an all-out dead run. I kept it up for a couple blocks before my legs gave out and I literally crashed onto some stranger's immaculate lawn.

Holding my head in my one good hand, I took a moment to catch my breath. Coal, get your act together. Stop being an emotional wreck and pull yourself together. Okay, okay, chill. Did I just tell myself to chill?

I sighed deeply and got to my wobbly legs. My heart and healing wrist thumped painfully as I jogged back home. The stitch in my side nearly made me double over, breathless and in agony, I decided to swear off Italian food for breakfast. Okay, time to initiate healthier eating. And time to take better care of my broken wrist.

On the way back home, my phone kept ringing and alerting me to texts and phone calls from Charlie. I knew it was him because he had a special ringtone all to himself. It constantly changes depending on my mood, and right now it was set to a default ringtone I only give to traitors and supposed best friends. The reason? I forgot already. But I'm sure it was a good one

Fully intending to finish my jog by jogging all the way to the shower, I stopped dead in my tracks when I entered the alley I lived in. My studio on top of the garage was clear to see, but there was something off about everything. It was too still.

Something vague told me to turn on my heels and keep walking. However, when has anyone ever listened to their intuition? I took a few wary steps into the alley before I rolled my eyes. I'm just being paranoid.

Right as I was reaching up to open my gate, I was proven very very wrong. A swarm of people came out of thin air with their cameras and microphones shoved into my face. I'm pretty sure they didn't come out of thin air, but their appearance was so sudden I shouted out of surprise.

"Is it true that you're Flaming Spark? Would you care to comment on Marie Harrison revealing your identity? Do you know anything about disappearing superheroes? Why is your wrist in a cast?" they yelled, their voices mixed into one undecipherable mass.