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Ah. “Baby girl, with or without the same color hair, you will still be my kid.”
She looked puzzled. “But Mr. Storm said I couldn’t be your kid because your skin is darker and your hair too. He said you didn’t look like me because you are spanic.”
Hispanic.
Fucking Storm. Hector took a deep breath, trying to calm down.
He had to tread carefully. She was just trying to find her place in his world. He could understand her need for wanting to feel secure, to be a part of a family. He’d gone through the exact same shit.
“Remember how inX-Men, the mutants were being made fun of because they were different?”
She nodded in earnest. “Professor X helped them.”
“Exactly. He opened a school so the kids with special powers could go there. None of them looked alike, but together, they still became a family.”
“So… it doesn’t matter what color my hair is?”
Finally, having to watch all those superhero movies was paying off. “That’s right. Even if you were purple with yellow dots, you’re still stuck with me.”
She giggled and gave him a hug. It was amazing what power she packed inside that tiny frame of hers.
Zoe looked back into the shop they had just left.
“I can wear something else.” She didn’t sound too happy with that prospect, but she was being a champ. For him. “But not a dress. I can’t save the world in a dress.”
He plucked her off his lap and put her in the side car. “We got one more stop first.”
He went back to the first store. The place that had fucked up their order. The same pimpled teenager stood behind the counter. One look behind the kid and he saw that his coveted costume was still there.
Hector pointed at the costume. “I’ll be taking that one.”
“I’m sorry, but—”
He pulled out five hundred-dollar bills and shoved them over the counter. “Like I said, I’ll be takingthatone.”
Money had a way of shutting people up. That’s exactly what happened. The costume was wrapped up and handed over to him in no time.
Zoe jumped up, barely able to hold her excitement.
So, yeah, another kid would cry over not becoming Wonder Woman, which probably made him a bastard. But, at least, it wouldn’t behiskid.
CHAPTER 29
HECTOR
The next morning, when Jess led two suits into his office, Hector’s first thought was Storm. More accurately, of his late-night visit to the fucker. The asshole must have gone to the police, after all.
“What can I do for you, gentlemen?” He didn’t bother to get up from his seat, just gestured to the sofas in front of his desk.
“Special Agent Husk,” the one with the gray tie said, pulling out a badge. “And this is my partner, Special Agent Gonzales.”
Hector relaxed. This wasn’t about an—alleged—assault slash attempt to murder charge.
“Can we speak in private?” Husk asked, with a glance at Jess.
“We’d like to talk to Mr. Smith as well,” Gonzales added.
“Jess, get Achilles in here.”