The Life I'm Running From

42\ I Slipped. Into a Bullet.

"You broke your leg? When you said you had an interesting weekend, I didn't think you meant that!" Harley stood up from the bus seat, and reached a hand out. He placed a hand on my back, helping me sit down with my clunky cast.

I sighed, leaning my head against the bus seat. Harley intertwined his fingers with mine, and rubbed his thumb over my knuckles. "What happened?"

"Fell down the stairs. You know, my apartment complex is old." I shrugged, and dropped my crutches to the dirty bus floor. "I just slipped."

Harley ran a hand through his hair, looking agitated. "I can't believe you got hurt. Why didn't you tell me?"

"You know now." I placed a hand on his muscled shoulder. "And, Harley, I'm fine. Honestly. I didn't actually break my leg. The cast will be off in a few days."

Harley didn't look convinced, but he didn't have a choice but to deal with it. A text from Peter buzzed on my phone.

Feeling better?

My heart warmed. He cared about me. With a smile on my face, I texted him back.

A bit. I just can't wait to get rid of this stupid cast.

Be careful still. Bullet wounds are sensitive.

I felt a kiss on my cheek and looked over. Harley smiled at me, his dark brown eyes sparkling. "I'll be with you all day. I'll help you with anything you need. Anything."

Scratching my cast—ugh, how I wished I could reach the skin under there—I raised an eyebrow. "Harley, you have classes."

"And I'll be late to every single one of them." He rested his chin on my shoulder, grinning like an adorable puppy. "I'm not going to leave my girlfriend stranded."

How sweet.

But how incredibly annoying.

★彡 ★彡 ★彡 ★彡

I watched Taylie Goldmyn from the other side of the lunchroom, and my eyes narrowed. She definitely looked like Veronica's sister. But is it possible that they were only half-related?

"When do you get your cast off?" Charlie stabbed one of the lettuce leaves from her fancy European salad.

"Soon," I replied, still staring at Taylie. She was at Harley's usual table, sitting beside Carter. Beside Devin was the empty gap that Harley usually filled. But today—

"Do you need me to run and grab anything for you?" Harley asked. He wrapped his arm around me, pulling me against his torso. The contact made me squirm. "'Cause I don't mind."

Skylar avoided eye contact with him, deliberately staring at her hot dog. I could tell how awkward she felt about him eating lunch with us. I was feeling the same level of awkwardness.

But I was ignoring it all, by thinking through the clues. The clues about the source of Veronica's power. Peter had pointed them all out Saturday night, while my bullet wound was being treated.

First, the message in Ancient Greek. Not to mention all of those papers written in immaculate Ancient Greek, which it's worth noting, is a dead language.

Second, the powers. Which didn't look at all like your average villain's abilities.

Third, the power surge that had gone through both her and Thor, exactly after they made contact.

Each pointed to one conclusion: that Veronica Goldmyn was a demigod.

While it seemed crazy to the other Avengers, I didn't doubt it. Demigods were more common than they thought. And all of those clues made perfect sense. The shroud around her face—she was using the Mist. Though, that did mean Veronica and Taylie were only half-sisters. I wonder if Taylie knew.