-----

Author's Note: Here's Ch. 4, in my opinion this is where the real story begins, everything else was just leading up to the moment in here. So I'm happy to say that things are finally starting :) I'd also like to advise some caution, there is a scene at the end of this chapter that might be a bit on the brutal side. I'd like to thank djkauf for the editing and DC Comics for the characters.

-----

Chapter Four:

When I woke up that morning, I panicked. Looking down I could see the fake breasts and the clothes I’d worn the night before. I also knew for a fact that I’d been so distraught the night before I hadn’t bothered to lock the door. I snapped around, looking at the clock. Thankfully, I’d awakened before the alarm sounded off. Usually when my alarm went off, Dad came huffing into the room, practically throwing me out of the bed. For a split second, I thought maybe there was a Divine power after all. But I shook it off and climbed out of bed. I undressed as fast as humanly possible---I think it was a new speed record. Instead of redressing, I grabbed one of my towels from the closet and rushed into the shower. I made sure I scrubbed off any trace of makeup that might be left.

When I got out of the shower and dressed in boy clothes, I went down to breakfast. Dad was already at the table, he looked sober for once. He also seemed to be doing work, which was rare. I looked at the laptop sitting in front of him, wondering where he got the money to buy one. He saw me looking and glared.

“We can’t afford that.”

He snapped back quickly. “Mind your own damn business, boy.”

I grumbled then went about fixing breakfast for the two of us. I made toast today seeing as he didn’t particularly like my cereal idea from yesterday. As I was fixing the toast...spreading the jam...he kept giving me strange looks. I thought maybe I had missed some of the makeup but he was looking elsewhere, at my lip.

“Who smacked you around?”

I set the toast in front of him. “Fernando Garcia.”

“You fighting at school now?”

I shook my head. “He and his friends were picking on a freshman, I intervened and this is what I got for my efforts.”

My father was silent for a few seconds. At first, I thought he was going to give me a compliment but then he fired back. “That’ll teach you to mind your own damn business.”

I fought back the urge to tell him to go fuck himself. Talking back to Dad never ended well. So I bit my lip and took the insult. He got smug after that. We ate in silence for a few moments then he got up abruptly. Probably to go to the bathroom. I took a curious glance at the laptop and bit my lip again. I became a curious cat again as I slipped around the table to look at what was so damn important. I frowned at what I saw on the screen. It was a spreadsheet of some kind with a bunch of numbers and names. None of it made much sense but the name “Friitawa” showed up once or twice. Another oddity that showed up was “V10”. What the hell was that?

The toilet flushed in the background. I quickly ran back to my seat, grabbing the remote and turning the TV on. It was the news, a scene showing what looked like a cab terminal. A blonde reporter was interviewing a gruff looking guy. I turned the volume up as Dad walked into the kitchen.

“Can you describe the woman?” asked the reporter.

The gruff guy nodded. “She was real scary with white skin and a flowing green cape. She went right to Jimmy and told him to rethink his actions in the future or face a night in the Narrows. Jimmy turned as white as she was and bolted.”

The reporter turned back to the screen. “There you have it, folks. Could this be another sighting of the mysterious Spectre?”

My father leaned over and clicked off the TV. “A load of shit if you ask me. All those Meta freaks hopping about. The government should do something about that.”

Dad had a thing about the Metas. He was always griping. Every time one of them popped up on the TV, it was “fuck this” or “fuck that” about them. Me, I loved the Metas and frankly, I’m a bit jealous. First, it was that girl Terra. She made it known to the world that she’s once been a guy and I thought it was the coolest thing in the world. Here was a guy that turned into a girl because of a genetic abnormality. Then a few months down the road, Booster Gold saved the President. It didn’t take long for it to come out that this gorgeous model used to be to be a college football star. There were tons more too, from all over the world. Most of them were guys and most...to me at least...were the luckiest bastards in the world.

Whenever Dad bitched about Metas though, I kept my mouth shut. I didn’t need a reason to put another wedge between the two of us.

We ate breakfast and then I went to school. Jen was waiting for me outside again. She frowned when she saw the fat lip. I told her it was no big deal. Then she grilled me about my first day at Wayne Manor. I told her everything, except of course what happened to me on the way home. How can you tell your best friend a thing like that? Besides, I didn’t want her to worry. She’d try to give me mace or something crazy like that. Dad would flip out if he saw me with something that dangerous...he’d think I had it to use against him and whack me one. I did have an aluminum bat though, hidden under my bed. It was just in case he got too drunk and too violent. It hasn’t happened yet but I’m not taking any chances.

I definitely couldn’t wait until I was out of his house. When we got to school, people were still buzzing about yesterday’s incident. Everyone was still calling me things like “Super Girl.” If only they knew the truth. It was funny actually. I was the invisible kid that no one gave a second glance to and now I was a minor celebrity. Best of all, everyone thought I was a girl. Even my first few teachers of the day starting to refer to me as “young lady” or “Miss Brown”. It was the coolest thing in the world. I wonder how far I could push things before someone really remembered who I was.

On the way to lunch, I passed Arnold again. He was shoving his books into his locker, looking around as if someone was going to ambush him. I slowed down, making sure I blended into the crowd. Sure enough, it didn’t take long. It looked like a sophomore. He was bigger than me but it was clear that he meant malice for the new freshman punching bag. I wove my way through the crowd and stuck my foot out in front of the bastard. He didn’t even see it coming until he went right over it. Everyone who was around burst into laughter. The jerk got to his feet, glared at them and took off in total embarrassment.

I walked over to Arnold, Jen followed. Arnold turned around, nearly dropping his books because I’d snuck up on him. I think the Manor was wearing off on me, what with the sneaking. Ok, probably not but he was a jumpy kid to begin with.

“You scared me,” he said, bending quickly to scoop up his books.

I helped. When I stood back up and caught a glimpse into his locker. There was a weird looking dummy sitting on the shelf, a painted scar across his face.

“You a Ventriloquist?” I asked.

Arnold closed his locker quickly. “That’s ummm….Mr. Scarface…I’m thinking about doing an act in the Talent Show this year.”

I nodded. The Show wasn’t for another few months but all the good acts started practicing early.

“That’s cool” I said, then thumbed my finger at Jen. “Jen did a magic act last year.”

Arnold looked surprised. “I’ve never heard of a female magician before.”

Jen looked offended. I could see a feminist lecture coming on, all about how women can do anything that men could do but I cut her off. “How are things, Arnold?”

He shrugged. “A little better since you helped me but I think I have a target painted on my back or something.”

I nodded. “It sucks to be uncool. Trust me, I know.”

We talked to him for a few more minutes then he split, running off to his Math class. Jen rolled her eyes and I stuck my tongue out at her. Then the two of us went off to lunch. In the lunchroom, little Miss Bitch Jordana glared at me from her table. I ignored her. For a second I thought she was going to come storming over and confront me but she stayed in her seat. It helped that Jen kinda scared people. It was sorta common knowledge that she was a witch, even if she didn’t practice any magic. There was a rumor going around last year that she actually shrunk a guy’s penis because he tried groping her in the lunch line. The jerk did grope her but the only thing that happened was suspension.

After school, I spent my few hours at Leslie’s. It was a slow day again. Most days at the Clinic were like that. But we did get an interesting phone call. Usually whenever something bad showed up the authorities contacted the local medical places about it. This particular phone call was about a new recreational drug called “Thrill.” It just hit the streets last week and was already causing some problems, mainly with violent rages and property destruction. But the police weren’t taking any chances with it.

When it was time to go to Wayne’s, I half expected to see a cab again. I shuddered when I thought about what happened last night. I don’t think I was ready to get dumped somewhere dangerous again. I tried not to think about what happened last night but it was hard not to.
I was a bit surprised however to see a Ducati motorcycle out front, with Tim sitting on it. He was wearing his red jacket, looking smug. I groaned. What the hell was he doing here?

“What’s this?” I asked, frowning as I walked up to him.

“I’m your ride, now get on” he said, holding out a red helmet to me.

I shook my head. “I’m not dressed for that,” I said, indicating the skirt I was wearing.

He sighed. “It’s only a few minutes you’ll be fine.”

I groaned, snatching the helmet from him. I realized then that it wasn’t red but in fact a big design over the front of it. It was a giant red bird; it almost looked like a robin. It was kinda cool actually. I shook that thought away. There was nothing cool about him, nothing at all. I scowled at him as I put on the helmet and awkwardly climbed onto the back of his bike. He told me to wrap my arms around his chest and when I did so he grabbed them, making them tighter. It felt kinda uncomfortable but he didn’t give me time to complain. Instead, he started the motorcycle, whipped it in a quick circle and peeled off down the road. Just like I thought it would, my skirt billowed in the wind.

Thankfully, it was only about ten minutes or so. When we got to the Manor, he took the bike around back and into a garage. I was amazed at how many cars Bruce had. I wasn’t a car person but even I had to appreciate the sheer number of them. There had to be at least thirty, each of them a different kind, too. I noticed quite a few motorcycles too, not that Tim pulled his anywhere near those. He had his own specific spot. When I got off, I handed him back his helmet.

“What’s the deal anyway?” I asked as the two of us started walking toward a door. “I mean, he’s not your brother or something is he?”

“Who?” asked Tim as he held the door open for me.

“Bruce” I said as I found myself in a small landing with a flight of stairs.

Tim laughed. “Not even close.”

The two of us started up the stairs. He didn’t say anything more the whole way. When we got to the top, he opened the door for me. The stairs opened into one of the many hallways. I looked left and right, figuring out where I was. I turned to ask Tim what he was doing here but I was alone. I cursed. That guy sure liked to avoid personal questions, didn’t he? He was like a ghost too, disappearing into thin air like that. It creeped me out a bit actually.

I wove my way through the halls until I found my way to Bruce’s Tower. There was still so much of the Manor that I hadn’t seen and hoped to explore one day. He was nice enough to give me some free time before dinner and the only room that seemed to be locked was the one directly below him. Other than that, according to Alfred, I was “free to explore any room I wished.” In fact, he said if I had the time, there was an excellent movie theater in the west wing that showed all the latest flicks. How cool is that, having a movie theater in your own house. I wonder if Bruce would allow me to bring Jen here some time. I made a mental note to ask.

When I got to the boss man, he had more menial tasks for me today.

“No more stair walking,” I said, dropping down in the chair next to his bed.

He laughed. “Not for a bit. But I do need you to move some stuff for more.”

“Stuff?” I asked, he nodded.

“Alfred will show you to the kitchen.”

So after that, I followed Alfred out of the tower and through more winding hallways until we arrived at the kitchen. It was massive, like the ones you see on those cooking reality shows on TV. I gaped at the size of it. Alfred smiled and led me over to these giant metal doors and opened them up, showing me a giant pantry. There were a lot of boxes on the ground, sealed shut. Alfred reached into his pocket and handed me a box cutter.

“There’s an inventory list on the wall over there, Mr. Wayne wishes you to organize the pantry for me.”

“The whole thing?” I asked, looking at the bare shelves.

Alfred nodded. “If you start now, you should be done by dinner time.”

I groaned but went to work. I was no stranger to organizing, having done it for Leslie on many occasions. But that was a small supply cabinet and this place was huge. I rolled up the sleeves of my blouse and went to work. Once I got the hang of the system, it went a lot faster. But there was a lot of up and down and heavy lifting. There this little ladder I kept using. I had to carry one thing and put it on a high shelf then put something on a low shelf. Not as grueling as running the stairs all day but after an hour my arm muscles felt like jelly. I wonder if he tortured people for a living in his spare time.

Another hour later I only had a few more things, most of them real heavy.

“Why isn’t Tim doing this, he’s a guy” I grumbled.

“Because” said a smug and irritating voice from behind me. “I’m not dumb enough to get roped into something this stupid.”

I nearly dropped the box. Tim moved quickly, standing behind me, steadying me. Then he helped me guide the box onto its proper shelf.

I sighed, wiping my sweaty brow. I turned to him and frowned.

“Does that mean you get roped into doing the rest of the dumb stuff?”

He frowned. Hey, I have snark too, buddy.

“Alfred sent me to get you for dinner,” he said coldly then left with a stomp, like a spoiled six year old.

I followed him out of the room, through a kitchen that was now busy with people and into the dining room. During dinner, he sulked like a child. I felt pretty good, knocking him down a peg. Neither of us said a thing. After we were done, Alfred arrived to tell me I was done for the night and then told Tim to give me a ride home.

“I have things to do tonight” he whined.

Alfred stared at him coldly. “Master Bruce says that you can take a few minutes out of your extracurricular night time activities and give Miss Brown a ride home. Don’t you agree, Master Tim?”

Tim sighed and nodded. “C’mon, get your bag and let’s go.”

I rushed to get my stuff from Bruce’s parlor. Then I ran and met him down at the door leading to the garage. This time he had a helmet waiting for me; it was silver and looked to be about my size. I wonder where it came from. He didn’t say anything as we went down the stairs and got on his bike. He took off faster than before; I had to grip him real tight to hang on. When we drove past the alley from last night, my body tensed. A cold chill ran down my spine and I quickly turned away. If not for the Roving Ravager that might have been my crime scene.

Tim was reluctant to drop me off at the restaurant but I told him my Dad would freak if a guy brought me home. He shrugged, told me to be extra careful and then whipped away. I frowned then went into the restaurant. Luckily, it was pretty much deserted. I ran into the bathroom, changed into jeans and a t-shirt, wiped off all my makeup and pulled back my hair. I was back to looking like an androgynous boy again. The waitress looked at me strangely as I walked out of the bathroom but shrugged it off.

I ran as fast as I could toward home. No one tried to hurt me tonight.

______________________________

The next week or so was kinda dull. My celebrity status in school died down finally and I sorta fell back into the crowd; for which I was glad. But that still didn’t stop people from thinking I was a girl. In fact, I actually got asked out. It was a shy Junior...and though he was cute...there was just no way. So I turned him down gently, afraid that my status as a “girl” might be brought to everyone’s attention. My teachers continued to treat me as one and Arnold was a constant second companion of mine now. Not that he could sit with us in lunch but he spent a lot of time at my locker. He and Jen didn’t get along at all...what with his sexist remark the other day, but that was a small bump. He was kinda a bright kid, if a bit shy. He liked to talk a lot too, mainly about ventriloquism. He was a big fan of it. He kept telling the two of us about his act, really excited about the things he could do. I was really happy for him; the kid had really come out of his shell. Though I wished that the jackasses would leave him alone. It made me wonder if I was going to have to turn another one of them into Fernando and set another “example.”

Things at Leslie’s were picking up too. Thrill went from being a small annoyance in the last few days to a big problem. It was all over the streets now. The users were called Thrill Seekers because apparently the drug tapped into your adrenaline. It gave you a massive high, making you feel like a superhero, if only for a while. But as soon as you were off that high, it made you crazy. There were reports all over the city now of teens going wildly out of control, vandalizing everything. The police were stretched thin. So was the Roving Ravager. Almost every night for the last week, his name was in the news. Not only was he taking out Thrill Seekers but other criminals, too. But even he was missing a lot as if there were just too many bad guys in the city for just one person.

Things at Wayne’s were reaching an all time annoyance level, too. Aside from the occasional odd things to do, I had yet to be his “eyes or ears” for anything. I mean, wasn’t that what he was paying me for. I asked him about it and he told me that I needed to “work up to that point.” I suppose that made sense but after a week, you’d think I’d be making a little headway. Though I did have an interesting day a few days ago. Did I mention Mr. Wayne had a dog? Well his name is Ace and he’s this giant black thing. I’m not even sure what breed he is.

Anyway, I was playing doggie babysitter and Ace must have seen a mouse or something. Because he took off and led me on a wild chase. I’m not sure how many halls I chased him through but we finally ended up in a spare bedroom. Ace was at the wall, barking and growling. I walked over and looked but there was no hole.

“Nothing there boy?” I said, grabbing his collar and trying to drag him out of some place I knew we shouldn’t be.

But Ace pulled hard, barking madly at the wall. He was too strong for me and I let go, falling on my butt. A cloud of dust rose into the air for a split second then a draft sucked it down. I looked in amazement as it was actually sucked under the wall. I blinked, not sure what I’d just seen. I stayed on the ground, moving to all fours. Ace was at the wall, whining and scratching, digging at the bottom of it. I pushed him aside and bent down to peer at the bottom of the wall. Sure enough, there was a crack there. It was hard to see unless you were looking for it. I smiled. I actually wondered if a place like this might have some cool secrets. Now, I actually found one.

I got to my feet and started to look for some kind of lever. Usually in the old movies, there was always some kind of lever.

I looked all over the room, poking at the furniture, trying all the nearby lamps. After about ten minutes of searching, I saw a likely candidate. It was a rusty light fixture on the far wall. It was the only thing in the room that looked older than everything else. I smiled and walked quickly over, giving it a gentle tug but nothing happened. I frowned then remembered sometimes people turn them. So that’s what I did. The fixture moved almost completely horizontal. There was a loud click then a rusting hinge squeaked. I heard Ace bark happily. I turned around and watched as his black shape disappeared into the new opening in the wall. I cursed and gave chase.

As soon as I got inside, I found a narrow passage that extended for what looked like forever. Someone must have been in it recently because the area around me was filled with boxes. There was also a light switch on the wall. When I clicked it on, the passage illuminated before me, showing a wicked obstacle course of boxes and other junk. Ace was way ahead of me now, barking. His bark echoed down the corridor. I cursed again and gave chase. The last week of Wayne’s tedious tasks had done a lot for me already. I found myself running faster and reacting to things that I never thought I could. It was like all my gymnast muscles were working again. I dodged, wove and jumped over all the obstacles in my path. I wasn’t as fast as the dog but it didn’t take me long to catch sight of him.

Things got a little tight after that. I had to turn sideways and jump at the same time. A move that would have been particularly difficult for a normal person. But because I had some training with difficult actions, I was able to pull it off effortlessly. On the other side of the tight squeeze, I found Ace. He was at a dead end. Barking and growling. I looked around and frowned. But thankfully, there was another lever. I reached over and gave a tug, opening the wall up. Ace ran into the new room, barking happily. I went into it as well and saw a damning sight. Tim was on the couch---I think I was in the Entertainment room---there was a girl underneath him. The two of them were going at it pretty good, her shirt on the floor.

I turned several shades of red. The two of them didn’t even notice the dog go running into the room barking. They must have been really concentrating. I took a deep breath and stalked out of the room. When I got to the door and tore it open, I felt my heart beating like a hammer. How can he do something like that with others in the house? Granted it was a huge house but it still wasn’t decent. I stomped down the hall, fuming. I don’t know why I was so mad though, after all, there was no way I’d ever date a jackass like him.

At dinner, I got to meet her.

“Steph” said Tim with a smile as he walked in with his leggy, raven-haired beauty. “This is Ariana.”

I smiled. “Nice to meet you.”

Alfred followed them into the room. “Master Tim, will your guest, Miss Dzerchenko, be staying for dinner?”

That name sounded awfully familiar. Then it hit me: it was the printing shop where my Dad worked. Before Tim could answer, I fired off a question. “Does your family own the printing shop in the Narrows?”

She smiled and nodded. “My father, actually.”

“Then you must know Arthur Brown?”

Ariana looked confused and then answered. “It doesn’t ring a bell.”

“Are you sure? He works in the Shop?”

Ariana laughed. “I’ve worked there since I was fifteen and there has never been an Arthur working there.”

That sent me reeling. The son of a bitch. He’d been lying to me for months. He said he got a job at Dzerchenko’s, said that’s where he’d been getting his money from. He was pulling in a good paycheck too, bigger than anything he’d brought home in a long time---except for his TV gig of course. But if he wasn’t working at the print shop, where the hell was he working? The thought bothered me all through dinner. When it was over and I could go, Alfred had to bring me home. I had him drop me off at the restaurant where I went in to change. The waitress there was named Gloria and it didn’t take long for her to catch onto my secret. She was cool with it, especially when I told her about my Dad. She even helped me with taking off my makeup when the place wasn’t too busy.

When I got there though, I was so distraught I didn’t go inside. Why would Dad lie like that, it made no sense? My head was in a fog as I walked the block or so home. I wasn’t even paying attention to the way I was dressed when I climbed the stairs and walked into the apartment. I froze when I opened the door and saw Dad sitting on the couch. He must have heard the door open because he turned to look at me. For a second he just stared. I couldn’t figure out what he was staring at until I looked down. I saw the lumps of the fake breasts, my cream-colored blouse and the skirt. My heart pounded in my chest.

“You fucking little fag.” Dad roared, flying to his feet.

I took off for my room, but because I was in heels, I was moving a lot slower. I almost got completely inside before he grabbed my hair. He gave it a violent tug and pulled me hard onto my back. Then he threw his knee on my chest, pinning me to the ground. He tore at my blouse, ripping it in half. His eyes widened in anger at the sight of my bra and fake breasts. He snatched the bra, yanking it angrily off my chest. I screamed out in pain, it tore into my flesh as it snapped free. Then he laid a punch into my face, hitting me in the mouth. Another came for my nose but I threw up my hands to block it. That caused him to punch some more but he shifted his weight, moving his knee.

I flung up and away. I ran into my room, slamming the door. He came barreling toward it. I dropped to the ground, sliding under the bed. I grabbed the bat. He threw the door open and grabbed my ankle. He pulled me out from under the bed and flipped me around. I lashed out with the bat, connecting with the side of his head. He stumbled back. I scrambled to my feet, swinging wildly. I hit him in the side. Then I slammed the end of it into his stomach, knocking him backwards out of the room. I might have hit him in the groin and not the stomach because he was doubled over in pain. I slammed the door shut quickly, moving like a mad man. I pushed my dresser in front of the door. Then pushed my bed up against it. My father recovered and started pounding on the door, screaming all kinds of names at me.

I ran into the corner and cowered in it, crying. He pounded for about twenty minutes, screaming himself hoarse. He only stopped when his cell rang. A few seconds later, he answered:

“What?” he said angrily and then more subdued. “The Warehouse? Tonight?” He cursed. “I’ll be there in ten.”

I thought he was done with me then, but he wasn’t. He threw himself at the door in one last-ditch effort to get inside. When that failed, he said angrily. “I want you out of my house you little fag. If I get back and you’re still here, you’re going to wish you’d never been born.”

He pounded off down the stairs. I didn’t move until I heard the door open and slam shut. Even then, I stayed in the corner for another ten minutes or so. When I finally got up, I refused to let go of the bat. Instead, I held onto it as I hastily packed. As if I was going to stay here anymore. I went to my closet, taking out everything that belonged to Stephanie. There wasn’t much but I shoved it all in my bag. With it packed, I pushed the things away from the door and left the room, leaving everything that was Steven behind.

Still holding the bat, I walked into the living room. We had a huge 52-inch plasma screen. He bought it with the money he’d been making. The money he lied about. I swung the bat into the screen and smashed it. I smashed his stereo too. Then went into the kitchen and smashed all the cupboard doors. I went around the house, smashing anything that reminded me off the bastard. I ended up at his bedroom door. He always kept it locked. But that didn’t withstand the smashing of my bat. Once I had the knob off, I kicked open the door. I went to his dresser where I knew he kept Mom’s jewelry and things. I opened that drawer and took all of it, putting it in my bag. It was hers, not his. Now it was mine.

There was another TV in his room. I smashed that too. I grabbed all his clothes and tossed them out the window. Then started swinging the bat at the walls, smashing giant holes in them. You wonder where I got my temper from, huh? After my demolition of the room, I found the laptop. It was the same one I saw the spreadsheet on a few days ago. I thought about smashing it too. In fact, I was raising the bat, about to bring it down on the damn thing when I stopped and changed my mind. Instead, I dropped the bat, letting it clang on the floor. I reached down and opened the laptop, he had left it on. The spreadsheet was still there and it looked the same.

But something about it looked illegal. I’m not sure why but all of it looked bad. I angrily snapped it shut, opened my bag and stuffed it inside. I was barely able to close my bag but I didn’t care. Then I turned and ran out of the room. I pulled on my purple hoodie before I left the house, making sure the hood was hiding my battered face. I hadn’t even looked at it but I knew it was probably pretty bad. I didn’t care at the moment; I needed to get away from this place. Away from him. I ran down the stairs, out the door and around the corner. It started to rain as I stood on the corner, trying to figure out what to do. The only thought I had in my mind was to make him pay. I was tired of this shit, tired of all of it. He was an evil person and evil people deserved to be in prison.

I looked at my bag and smiled. Surprisingly I found a taxi driver that wasn’t afraid to venture into the Narrows. I flagged him down and gave him Jen’s address. If anyone knew what I was going through it was her. I thought about sending him to the Manor but I didn’t want to bother Bruce with my problems. The same thing with Leslie. As far as Uncle Jim, I’m sure he’d know all about it when I was done. I’d make sure everyone in the city would know about the kind of scum that Arthur Brown was.

When we pulled up in front of Jen’s place a few minutes later, I gave him twenty bucks. It might have been too much but I didn’t care. It was Dad’s money anyway---I took it from his sock drawer, all five hundred of it he had there. I’m sure it was dirty money but I didn’t care. If the police wanted it, I’d give them the rest. Hell, I’d give it to everyone if I could, tell them it was dirty money owned by Arthur Brown. They’d line up just to see it and touch it. This money was held by the great Cluemaster, imagine that.

I walked up to Jen’s door. I knocked and rang the bell several times. Her grandparents didn’t like me much. They knew all about my “heathen” ways too, but frankly, I didn’t give a fuck tonight. When the door finally opened, thankfully it was Jen on the other side. She was about to make a comment when I looked at her. She gasped, seeing my face under the hood. I didn’t have to say a thing as she pulled open the door and yanked me inside.

We didn’t get any further than the foyer. She held me tightly and I cried in her arms.

Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF