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SEPTEMBER 9, 2022

Haskell

“I shit you not, Midas. The asswipe is lying in days-old food and who-knows-what, makes a joke about how she smells, and without missing a beat, that little pint of piss ribs him about his beard.”

Waters was laughing. “She’s perfect for him.”

TB rumbled, “Maybe, but she’s totally not his type.”

Waters asked, “Midas, does your brother even have a type?”

There was a snort, and Midas answered, “If it’s human, and it has a vagina, it’s his type.”

Haskell bit her lip, a bolt of pain whizzing through her.

Child, of course he’s a player. Why else would he be interested in a tomboy like you?

She was currently sitting at the conference room table in a ten-story office building in the middle of L. A. The past two hours were just about all she could take, and hearing this conversation float from an office down the hall was not helping the situation.

Barely given time to collect her scattered wits after the explosion, Nemo and his co-worker, TB, had vaulted out of the dumpster, dragging her behind them at a full-blown sprint down an alley. A Bronco had been waiting, to which she was unceremoniously thrown into the back seat. A furry missile flew in on her heels and deposited itself in her lap, followed by two hundred pounds of glorious superhero. He didn’t even have the door slammed shut before the Bronco was tearing down a back street. Once it hit Fifth Avenue, the one Nemo had called Midas pulled out into traffic and proceeded to drive to this office building looking for all the world like he and his passengers were just out for a midday drive in L.A. on an ordinary Tuesday.

When they arrived at the office building, a flurry of orders began being issued. There’d been no time to process anything over the leader’s instructions, the confirmations of the other men, and the squawking and growling of Cherry and Demon.

Nemo had been glued to her side for the entire time, but when he lowered himself to his knees to praise Scheherazade, a cool hand brushed down her arm. Haskell had turned to see Cherry at her right and a very grumpy medic in sunglasses just behind her.

“Haskell, let me take you somewhere to clean up.”

She allowed herself to be led away by Cherry. When she turned around in the lift, she saw Nemo on one knee next to his dog, his eyebrows scrunched down and a frown on his face, but he didn’t move from the spot. Their eyes remained locked until the closing lift door blocked him from her view.

A warm shower and some borrowed clothing from Cherry made all the difference. She transferred her trusty screwdriver tool to her pants pocket. She had to tight-roll the jeans to keep them from dragging on the ground, and the long-sleeved Harvard T-shirt sleeves hung so long her fingertips barely peeked out the ends, but she was clean and no longer smelled like rotting food, so she was thankful for that. Clean and comfortable, she’d been brought back here to the conference room where she waited for them to come in and question her, and she was stuck overhearing conversations she shouldn’t be a party to.

It wasn’t like she hadn’t known she was one in a legion of women, but actually hearing it said aloud made the contents of her stomach curdle. She already had felt foolish for letting him seduce her the first time, let alone the second time they’d met. It was time to get out of this mess. She knew she was probably on surveillance of some kind, so she had to work fast.

Perusing the room, she admitted that getting out how she got in was clearly going to be a no-go. Cherry had pointed out her desk and said she’d be there if Haskell needed anything. The hallway the room had been in was one-way, with no emergency stairwell at the end. She looked up.

Whenever you’re in trouble, Haskell, my child, always look up. No one ever looks up.

Haskell reached in her pocket for her trusty screwdriver, which she never went anywhere without. It had helped her out of more than one desperate situation in the past. Looked like today would be another day to add to the list.

It took less than a minute to be up on top of a chair, unscrewing the grate to the vent, and inside it. Refusing to think too hard about having no clue which way to go once inside the vent, she began crawling. As she crawled to what she hoped was safety, her mind zipped back to the first time she had met Nemo.