Project Ultron

Four.exe

As promised, the next day a car was parked outside of my house, all shiny and new, with the driver dressed in matching black standing next to its door. I stopped when I saw it.

"Nope," I said, and started walking towards the tower.

It wasn't like I wanted to walk, but being seen on Hell's Kitchen with that kind of car meant you had money, which I didn't, and it made you a target. People knew me here. They knew where I lived. If they thought I had somehow managed to get some good money, they might try to break into my place, or just rob me in the middle of the street. That was not happening. I was working for Tony Stark, but the world didn't need to know.

The driver was completely confused. He stood there not knowing what to do. Maybe he thought that it wasn't me who he had to pick up, so he continued to wait there.

I walked looking at the ground, thinking over the research that I had read the day before. I had peeked into some of Stark's code and my mind almost exploded. It was too much information. I was really surprised that just one man had been able to do so much. He must have worked really hard. I was wrong about Tony Stark. I thought he would be arrogant and kind of a jerk, but he was neither. He was exactly what an Avenger should be: a good person and, on top of that, not a stupid one.

I was so deep into my own thoughts I didn't realize whom I was walking towards until he bumped into me. The second I saw who it was, it became pretty clear that he had done it on purpose.

"Woah, Walker," he said, "You're back."

I looked up at the sound of the familiar voice. Earth, swallow me now. Eric Butcher was in front of me with his little posse of underdogs.

"Yeah," I said dryly.

"Good, good." He licked his lips, darting his eyes to his followers who were all giving me hungry smiles. They were losers. But losers with knives hidden inside their jackets and boots. "We missed you, Walker."

"It's Atwood now," I corrected, rubbing my face, not wanting to get into it.

He rose his brow once, nodding slowly. I was pretty sure he didn't care.

"Atwood, yeah. Listen, do you still need that little toy you asked for? I have a beautiful 25 Baby Browning. Perfect for the weaker sex."

He tried to make the gun sound enticing, but it just made me cringe so hard it hurt me.

"Is that the one you use to make yours look bigger?" I asked.

It wasn't smart to make guys like Butch look bad, but he just made it so easy. One of his guys snickered but the rest were stoic, and Butch's face went from zero to a hundred in one second. He grabbed my arm hard.

"What did you say?" he whispered threateningly.

I opened my mouth, maybe to apologize. I didn't know. I wasn't fast enough.

"Miss Atwood," someone said behind the guys, "Are you alright?"

They all turned around and saw a suited man with round sunglasses and a cane, which he held close as if resting on it.

"Mister Murdock," I whispered way too relieved.

Even these guys knew better than to mess with a lawyer, a blind one at that. The potential lawsuit would be glorious.

Butch looked at me and whispered, "This ain't over." Then they all left.

"Are you alright?" he repeated.

I wiggled the arm Butch had grabbed. It was going to be sore but I was fine. I nodded.

"Miss Atwood?" he repeated.