Sweet Release (A Bad Boy Mafia Romance) (28 page)

I woke up early the next day, the sun streaming in through a crack in the blinds hitting me in the eye and forcing my brain awake. It was a gorgeous summer day without a single cloud in the sky. If anything, it could have been just a little bit cooler, but that was nitpicking. I’d take this over the harsh Olympus winters any day of the week.

Looking at my phone it was just after nine. I wanted to be there when Keith hit the bank. I wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was just to make sure I got myself out of the way. After all, if I was part of the crowd, dressed in civilian clothes, with my regular identity, no matter what happened I couldn’t fly out and try and stop Keith.

Forcing myself to get up out of bed, I showered quickly then threw on a pair of jeans and a shirt before grabbing my wallet and heading out into the street. I found a coffee shop less than a block from where I knew Keith was planning his heist. Grabbing a coffee, a bagel and a cookie, I sat down and watched the world go by while I waited for all hell to break loose across the street.

It was funny, seeing all those people walking by, none of them except for me having any idea that in just a few short minutes all hell was going to break loose at the bank.

At exactly five minutes to ten, an armoured truck pulled up in front of the big building across the street. I sipped at my coffee, not wanting to go out and watch. After all, if anyone noticed me standing around looking suspicious after the fact, I might end up getting caught up in the whole thing, and that was something I absolutely didn’t want to have happen.

Finishing off my cookie, I looked around as I waited for Keith and Sam to make their appearance. I didn’t see any sign of them; if they were around, they were damn good at hiding.

Six men got out of the armoured car. One of them opened the door at the back while two men flanked him directly. Two of the men watched the front of the car, while the last man was stationed at the back. All six of them had their weapons out, they were absolutely not going to be risking anything.

I briefly wondered if maybe this was a smart play for Keith to be making with this many armed people around when all of a sudden a spray of acid came out of nowhere and punctured all four tires of the armoured car. At the sound, the six men all stopped what they were doing. The one who was carrying the bags simply froze, stuck between putting the money back into the truck and locking it and heading into the bank. The other five men began to look at the damage done by the acid, and speaking to each other in hushed tones for a moment. Then, they quickly made sure to point their weapons at nothing in particular – as Keith, who had obviously sent the acid spray at the truck – had yet to show himself.

It was funny, I noticed. Even though the armoured car company paid these men bigger money than other jobs to protect their loot, the men were all except for one, visibly terrified. The man who had been at the back of the truck, directly watching the one taking out the money, he looked former military. His hands were steady as he looked around carefully. The others, they had obviously just taken the security job because of the better money. Their hands were shaking, and their eyes and heads were darting around, like fish that have suddenly seen a shark. They weren’t going to be any trouble, they were the kinds of people that as soon as they saw Keith would just throw themselves to the ground and hope they saw their mommy again.

The man carrying the bag of money suddenly looked like he was going to pass out, more so than the others, and a minute later I realized why – the asphalt under him was cracking, moving.

He suddenly rose into the air while his comrades stared, their mouths open. Even the military man stopped for a minute and watched before re-gaining control of his senses and watching out for what was about to happen.

That was when Sam and Keith came out of nowhere. One came from the north, the other from the south. They were so fast, it was like they were streaks of colour rather than anything else. They grabbed the bags of cash from the floating island of concrete; the guard standing there was absolutely not in any kind of position to stop them.

A group of people had begun to form outside, watching what was happening. A couple of cop cars responded as well, making their way through, the officers getting ready to fire. I left the coffee shop and joined the crowd to get a better look at what was happening.

Suddenly, a shot rang out. I heard Keith swear, and he dropped the bag he was carrying. It plummeted to the ground, along with droplets of his blood. Fucking hell. That one guard had shot him in the hand.

“Come on! Get your bag and let’s go!” Sam called out to Keith. She brought the slab of concrete that had been in the air back down to the ground; it seemed like Keith had managed to convince her that hurting people just for the hell of it wasn’t necessarily a good thing. The guard collapsed to the ground, in shock but physically unhurt.

Keith looked down at the bag of money. It was lying on the ground, a little bit of it spilt onto the ground, maybe a hundred grand’s worth. I could see the guard, the one who had obviously been in the military before, watching Keith. He had his weapon raised, he was waiting for his shot.

“Fucking hell, get the fucking bag!” Sam was shouting at Keith as he decided whether or not it was worth it. Suddenly, his eyes scanned the crowd. They found mine. I shook my head, slowly. This was a bad idea. It wasn’t worth it. It really wasn’t. The guard was good. They weren’t expecting that, and now he was leading Keith into a trap.

Keith gave me a sad smile. “I have to try,” he mouthed at me, before hurtling down towards the ground. I didn’t even realize I was holding my breath as I watched.

Swooping down, Keith grabbed the bag of cash. The guard had his gun trained on him, and for a second, I thought Keith was just going to fly off without the guard trying anything. He began to fly back up, towards the sky. He was going to make it.

Then the shot rang out.

I don’t know what the crowd did – if they were silent, or if they cheered, or simply gasped in surprise. All I know was what I saw. It was like it happened in slow-motion. The bullet ripped through the flesh of Keith’s neck and came out the other side along with a long spurt of blood.

His eyes widened in surprise as he realized what had happened. He began to fall back to the ground, and as he did I saw the life starting to seep out of my best friend.

He hit the ground with a thud, a sickening sound, and I pushed forward in front of the crowd.

I saw him with my own eyes. Lying there, dead, his eyes wide open as they stared up into nothingness, was my best friend.

Fuck.

As a crowd of people came close to him, I looked around for Sam. She had gone, taken her half of the money with her.

I needed to do something. I needed to stop this. If the authorities got Keith’s body, they’d figure out who we were. And almost more importantly, Keith’s family would find out who he was. And I didn’t want them to go through that. For Keith’s sake.

But I didn’t have my costume. Hell, I didn’t even have my mask. But I had to do
something
. Keith wouldn’t have wanted his family to know what he had done, who he was. Plus, he was getting out.

He was supposed to be fucking getting out.

Tears threatened to sting my eyes as I took my lighter out of my pocket. I had no other option.

I clicked on the flame, heard the familiar tiny whooshing sound of the flame coming to life. I didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing, every eye in the area was focused on Keith’s body. I willed the flame to go high above us, and grow into a fireball.

The flame did as I asked, and I directed it above Keith’s body. The people gaping at his body stopped and moved back as the heat of the flame drove people away. It was a huge fireball, at least five feet in diameter now, and I made it spin impressively, occasionally shooting off licks of flames to drive the crowd even further back.

Rest in peace, my friend, I thought to Keith as I did the one thing I had promised myself I wouldn’t do that day – I drove the fire deep into his body.

I willed the flames to devour his flesh, and shot them high up into the sky. This was Keith’s funeral, and I was going to make sure it was the best damn funeral I could give him. His family would have questions when he would disappear, but it would be better this way. Better than knowing their son was the supervillain they had so despised.

Because in truth, he wasn’t really a villain. He was a poor college kid who’d gotten himself into something too deep to get out of, but he still tried. One last heist. That was what he had told me. He has asked me not to get in the way, and I hadn’t.

And now he was dead.

Thick black smoke billowed up from the flames. The cops had grabbed fire extinguishers from their cars and were trying to put out their fire; to them his body meant evidence. But to me, I was doing a favour for a friend.

Their extinguishers were useless against my powers, of course. I stared down at the charred embers that had been my best friends’ body until there was nothing left, nothing at all. Only then was I sure that Keith’s secret identity would be hidden forever. There was no need for anyone to know.

Once I was sure there was nothing left to identify Keith from, I put out the fire and walked away from the crowd.

He was going to get out.

He was going to be a football player.

He was going to live a fucking life.

Now he was only ashes, his life taken away by a guard who thought a human fucking life was more important than a few million bucks in cash.

A human fucking life.

My best friend.

Fuck.

I wandered around the streets aimlessly for a few minutes, my brain too numb to really understand what had just happened. He was getting out. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This was his last heist. His last fucking heist.

If only I had been there. If only I’d made a token appearance as Inferno. Things would have been different, and maybe my best friend would be more than just a pile of ashes.

A part of me wanted to go home, but I knew I couldn’t. Keith had been in my apartment too many times. Being there was just going to make everything hurt that much fucking more.

Instead I ducked into a dark alley and flew up into the sky. I didn’t have a mask on. Didn’t have my costume. But what the fuck did that sort of thing matter now?

I went to the only place I could think of… the roof. I’d had so many moments there, all of them good. Maybe being at the roof would give me a little bit of comfort.

Landing on the ledge, I sat down on the side overlooking Centennial Park. Keith was gone. It was so unfair. Then again, maybe it wasn’t
that
unfair. All three of us should have probably been dead, after our stunt with the particle accelerator. None of the doctors we’d seen knew how we’d survived, they all thought we should have been dead. They didn’t know how much longer we would live for, either. We were all on borrowed time, weren’t we?

Maybe. But Keith’s didn’t have to end so early. It wasn’t a result of the particle accelerator that he died. It was a bullet to the neck that took him out. Sam had made those bulletproof suits, but unfortunately they only covered the body. They weren’t head to toe. We honestly didn’t think we needed them.

And no matter what, I couldn’t get over the fact that it was my fault. If only I’d been there. If only I’d made a token effort to stop Keith and Sam. If only I hadn’t decided, for once in my life, to sit back and watch. Then things would have been different, and my best friend wouldn’t be dead.

It was happening again. It was my fault, again.

I wasn’t a fucking superhero. I tried telling people that. I fucking tried. I didn’t want to be a hero. And now I wasn’t. Now, because I wasn’t a hero, my best friend was fucking dead.

The phone Miller gave me rang in my pocket. I took it out. It was him. I pressed the red button to ignore the call.