Chapter 2

Friday, December 21^st 2012, 6:41 PM

Margaret Andeton sat drinking Gatorade, loving the burn in her muscles and the slightly rubbery feel in her arms and legs after her routine. In middle school she had briefly been an Olympic hopeful, but that hope was gone less than a year later as she grew five inches and started gaining curves she never wanted. She was still a damn good gymnast with a state championship under her belt, but she stopped competing long before college and now she just loved to do the old routines and work herself to near exhaustion. She had decided long ago she wanted to be a gymnastics coach, and she had done it.

"Whatcha doin' roomy?" She didn't have to see the speaker to know it was her lifelong friend, roommate and sometimes girlfriend Vickie.

"Just keeping the body tight for my girl." Maggie grinned at Vickie, who sat lotus fashion in front of her. She had to squint at the florescent orange, green and purple stripes in Vickie's normally yellow blonde hair. "Crap, Vickie, did you lose another bet?"

"Nah, I was in a mood and just went a little nuts..." Vickie shrugged listlessly and Maggie took a deep breath, knowing what was about to happen. "Maggie, I..."

"I know, Vick." She stopped the much taller woman with a gentle smile, then leaned up and gave her a good long kiss before sitting back. "So what's the plan for tonight?"

"Gawd, Maggie, you really are the best!" Vickie looked like she might cry for a second, then it was gone and she was rambling about some meteor shower party on a rooftop club downtown. It had only taken that single look for Maggie to know Vickie was about to break up with her for the eighth or ninth time since middle school, but they were best friends and she knew Vickie loved her with all her heart. Just not all the time; and that was okay with Maggie, because it was the same for her. She figured one day one of them would meet the perfect guy and then he would have to share, because that was just the way it was. That thought brought a grin to her face.

Thursday, April 16^th 2015, 7:17 PM

Vickie was nervous. This was noteworthy because the only time Vickie could remember being this nervous was the time in high school when she and Maggie split for the first time and Vickie slept with the quarterback, then had to wait three days for her late period. When it finally came she went back to Maggie crying and swearing off asshole men forever, which turned out to be a year. She knew Maggie liked this guy, which was part of why she asked him out; she honestly wanted to make sure he wasn't some creepo before she pushed Maggie to go out with him. The rest of why she chased him and his daughters down the block was because there was something about Blake Wallens that just did something crazy inside her. It reminded her of how Maggie made her feel, but it was also very different at the same time.

She stood outside the restaurant fidgeting uncontrollably. Over the last three years she had learned very fine control of her abilities. She had learned to eat a LOT before any date or she would end up putting them off with her ravenous appetite, which was another downside of speed based powers. Ever since the accident her normal speed was hyperdrive, but she had learned that she could kind of turn the speed way down. She would, however, pay for it later because it took a surprising amount of energy to keep herself out of hyperdrive. Over the next twenty four hours she would probably have to eat a horse or six. Blake had said to dress like she was going out with friends to eat, so she was wearing her favorite baggy jeans and a half shirt that showed off her impressive abdominal muscles. She had even changed her hair back to its natural yellow blonde color; a little side power she had that did nothing but let her change her body hair to whatever color she wanted.

She checked her phone for the thirteenth time and saw he was exactly seventeen minutes late. She decided to give him three more minutes when a cab pulled up and he jumped out as he threw a wad of bills to the driver. "Keep the change!"

"You're late, cowboy!" She growled at him, taking in his black cargo pants and faded tshirt with some tugboat logo over the left breast. She watched the play of muscles in his arms and where the shirt stretched tight across his large chest. She unconsciously bit her lower lip.

"I am so sorry, my daughters were throwing fits about my choice of clothes and deodorant and restaurant and just pretty much everything. I finally threatened the loss of phones and weekends to get out of the apartment." Standing right in front of her he finally took a deep breath and smiled at her. "Hi, you look great."

Her breath fluttered as she looked at that smile and she absolutely understood why Maggie had been acting so weird for the last two months. She finally grinned at him. "Just don't let them make a habit of it!"

"Absolutely not!" He actually saluted and she almost giggled, then he motioned toward the door as she moved beside him. His hand rested lightly against the small of her back and her breath caught in her throat. That light touch told her a very important fact; Blake Wallens would have to really blow this night to hell to not get laid.

Thursday, 7:21 PM

May hated this place. Ghede's Den always made her think of what happened in the basement most days of her life, but these people weren't forced, they wanted to be violated and humiliated. It repulsed her and made her skin crawl beneath the skin tight leather, but Paul had business here so she followed as told. Her brother ignored the music, the dancing, the drugs, the booze, and the sex because he was focused on the black man sitting on a throne of human bone. He wore black robes and had a pair of sunglasses on with the right glass missing to show his piercing green eye. The throne sat alone atop a four-tiered dais that was flush against the wall. Naked, blank faced women, standing shoulder to shoulder in a semi-circle comprised each of the tiers. Paul stopped inches away from the first row.

"What do you want?" The man called Bokor asked in a nasally voice, though May knew it wasn't what he really sounded like.

"I come bearing quality products." Paul announced calmly, gesturing for May to open the large roller bag she carried.

"No, you come bearing stolen goods." Bokor sniffed, and May thought it an odd affectation for such a large man. "I do not deal in stolen goods."

"You've dealt with my stolen goods plenty of times, Bokor, and you will deal with them NOW!" May felt Paul's words slithering through her, setting her nerves on razor's edge.

"Please, Predator," Bokor made Paul's alias sound filthy and ridiculous. "I am a controller also. Your power doesn't work on me or those I control, and if you think to use your little attack whore I have more than enough bodies to bury you both in flesh!"

Paul's hand shook as he gripped his cane tightly. He visibly forced himself to relax and cocked his head to the side. "You ... want something else, I take it? Something you would pay a large sum of money for?"

Bokor's grin was all pearly white teeth, but the malicious glint in that green eye made May sick to her stomach. "A man used to work for me doing collections. I miss that man very much. You bring me his daughters, and I'll pay full value for your goods."

May's eyes widened. Full value for stolen goods was unheard of; Bokor must really want to send a message to this guy. She didn't have to see Paul's face to know he was grinning. "And who is this man?"

Bokor touched the shoulder of the nearest blank faced woman with a photo and she took it, passing it down till it was presented to Paul. When he lifted it to see the targets, May saw twin dark haired girls and a large, attractive man with light brown hair. "Blake Wallens."

Thursday, 8:25 PM

Blake was having a good time. She laughed at his jokes, didn't shy away when he started talking about his girls, and she was especially interested when he mentioned both girls ran track.

"That's awesome! I ran track in high school and college. I also played lacrosse and volleyball. Did you play any sports?" She tended to talk in bursts. A bit of rapid-fire information could easily spiral off to a different subject if he didn't keep the conversation on point.

"Actually, I was the scrawny kid until I was a senior." Blake grinned at her shocked expression. "I was five foot five and ninety six pounds; my locker was basically my second home."

"Wait a sec! Your girls are sixteen, and you were seventeen when they were born, right?" As Blake nodded, Vickie cocked her head to the side as she put everything in its proper timeline. "So you were the scrawny kid when you got their mom pregnant, right?"

"Yes, I was." Blake laughed, remembering in great detail head cheerleader Carol Matulis' shocked expression upon waking up from her drunken stupor next to the school's punching bag.

"So exactly how did that happen? Pity lay?" She was grinning her wild, slightly psychotic looking grin that had made the waiter start to sweat. It made Blake want to kiss her.

"No, she was a good Catholic girl. Actually it was at a party. I was there as the entertainment and she was there drinking Coke with her boyfriend. From what I heard later he drugged her to get into her untouchables, but lost her when she stumbled off and ended up in the room I was locked in." Blake took a sip of his wine, remembering the night and what he had done to the jocks years later. Shaking himself, he continued. "Anyway, she came in and just started kissing and touching and..."

"Wow, so why were you locked in that room?" she asked.

"It had been fun for the jocks to humiliate me, right up until they ripped my boxers off. I'll just say there were a lot of inadequacy issues in that room, and none of them were mine." He grinned at the little flush suddenly suffusing her cheeks while she stared at the table approximately where his crotch was. "So they stuffed me in a room and tried to forget about me."

"Sounds like..." She stopped when she saw Blake shift slightly toward the door, and an unreadable look passed quickly over his face. Turning to look, she saw two men had entered and were now smiling and waving at Blake as they moved closer. "Friends of yours?"

"A long time ago they were." Blake mumbled as the men got closer.

"Brick! How ya been, brother? It's been too long!" The older of the two smiled, shaking Blake's hand.

"Hey Jimmy, how are you?" Blake had winced at being called Brick.

"Can't complain too much, how are the girls?" Jimmy seemed friendly enough, but Vickie could almost taste the tension in the air; especially since the younger man with Jimmy looked like he was sweating gallons.

"Sixteen going on thirty!" Blake moaned dramatically, causing Jimmy to laugh and pat him comfortingly on the shoulder. Blake's whole demeanor suddenly shifted to what Vickie could only describe as sad. "How's Michael doing?"

Jimmy sighed so deeply it looked like he actually deflated and he suddenly looked ten years older. "He's finally talking again, but a lot of it's weird shit that scares me sometimes, man."

Blake had lowered his head, as if in prayer. When he raised it his eyes had a slight shimmer to them. "You think it would be okay if me and the girls visited?"

"Yeah, that would be great, I think Mikey would love to see them again." There was a moment that Jimmy's hand squeezed Blake's shoulder in a white knuckled grip, then he gave Blake a pat and started to move away. "We gotta jet, just came in to grab a little takeout. You two ... dammit, where are my manners? I'm Jimmy, and this is Erik."

"Vickie." She shook Jimmy's hand, it was firm and extremely warm; Erik's was kind of cold and clammy. "Nice to meet you."

"You two have a nice evening." Jimmy waved as he and Erik walked off.

"He seemed nice." Vickie commented cautiously, watching Blake's features closely.

"Yeah, he was my best friend all through high school and up until a couple years ago." Blake said as he watched their backs retreat through the exit. "We had a ... falling out. Things were said, punches thrown and we haven't spoken until just now."

"So who's Michael?" Vickie regretted asking the second it left her mouth as a pained expression pasted itself on Blake's handsome face.

"Jimmy's baby brother. I can't think of a single person I've known who's had a rougher life." Vickie was sure she could see age lines forming as Blake got lost in a past that didn't seem very nice. He then gave a small shake of his head making it all seem to melt away and his smile returned. "I don't want to think about that right now."

"Oh? So what do you want to think about?" Vickie arched a thin yellow blonde brow.

"Are you wearing socks?" He asked with no hint in his voice or face as to the reason for such an odd question. Vickie reached down and dragged the hem of her baggy jeans up to reveal her sandaled, and sockless, orange nailed toes. Blake inspected her feet for a moment, gave a little nod and took a sip of wine.

Vickie waited as patiently as she could while watching him take another sip of wine, maybe forty seconds, before she had to ask. "Why did you want to know about my socks?"

A small grin, more of a smirk, quirked the left corner of his mouth as his eyes drooped to half-mast. Leaning forward, he said in a quiet voice, "No socks, no bra, no panties. If you wanted to seduce me you didn't have to try so hard."

A laugh burst from her suddenly, along with a blush. She didn't mind that he noticed; she was actually pleased he had, but she was irritated. Her inability to stop blushing around him was starting to drive her crazy. "Would you believe I'm pro commando?"

He eyed her intently, his head rocking back and forth for a moment. "Actually I would, you seem like the type of person that lives for you and hang anyone who doesn't like it."

Vickie sat back in her chair, stunned at his words; not because he had described her attitude so succinctly, it didn't take a genius to figure it out, but it was the words he used, the exact same ones that Maggie said ten years ago. Thinking of Maggie brought a sudden surge of guilt, and Vickie dropped her head, mumbling "I shouldn't be here" to herself.

"Why not?" he asked. She didn't think he could hear her, but obviously he had.

"My friend likes you." She hadn't meant to say that, but she opened her mouth to make some excuse and blurted that out instead.

"I figured that out weeks ago." He smiled as he said it. "But she never tried talking to me and when I tried to talk to her, she ran."

A frown creased Vickie's forehead and her eyes narrowed. "Why did you say yes to dinner?"