Page 58 of The Not So Super Hero

Their discussion continued during the ride, each one giving their two cents while conjuring scenarios to escape alive.

Every passing second put Zane on edge. All he could think about was Bailey, what he was going through, what he had gone through, how scared he was, his suffering, and if there was any hope, he would make it in time.

While they planned, Bailey created one of his own.

After awakening from the beating, Bailey discovered someone healed him to prevent any permanent damage or an imminent demise.

His leg ached and was incapable of movement, but his eyes were no longer swollen shut.

Though his sight suffered from the dusty and cracked glasses.

With no one in the room, Bailey searched for a means to escape.

The tools they used earlier were gone. As relieved as Bailey was not to see them, they would have been useful tools to escape.The door that led out of the room was closed, and likely locked.

His restraints remained, albeit slightly looser than earlier.

He wiggled his wrists. The sore skin screamed against the rubbing leather.

The tender skin burned, but he kept tugging, biting back a pained groan.

However, no amount of struggling had his wrists breaking free.

That was meant to be the part where he lost hope, but Bailey had bad luck his whole life. He had been through shit since day one and he had this annoying custodian to get back to.

The door opened to Antoine stepping through the threshold.

Their eyes met and Bailey glared, even if his body shivered from memories of pain.

Antoine stepped closer, his steps echoing in the room, though paling compared to the racing of Bailey’s heart.

His glare never faltered, not even when Antoine slapped Bailey’s tender wrists.

It seemed he knew the boy was trying to get out, or at least suspected it, because he kept hitting them.

“Welcome back. I’m happy you haven’t lost your spunk. It would have been boring if you started begging,” Antoine said.

Bailey couldn’t prevent his tremors. His mind reeled, telling him to be scared, petrified. Regardless, Bailey did his best not to show it. He didn’t want to give Antoine the satisfaction.

“Oh, you’ll also be happy to hear that we won’t be cutting you into little pieces.” Antoine clapped sardonically. “Zane and his annoying friends are on their way.”

Bailey’s stomach did back flips at the mention of Zane until fear set in.

He wished to be confident, but fear enjoyed imagining what could happen to Zane.

What would happen if Rebirth got their hands on him because of Bailey?

He would never forgive himself. After what he had just went through, he wouldn’t be able to sleep, knowing Zane was probably going through something far worse.

Rather than remain silent and show his fear, Bailey decided that he already went through hell, so he was going to sass. “You’re a bit of a coward, aren’t you?”

Antoine’s smile twitched.

“You’re too frightened to face Zane, so you made a trap and had him come to you because you know if you were on an even playing field he’d kick your—”

Antoine slammed his fist into Bailey’s gut. He groaned, body hung forward. He coughed, ready to throw up, but he had already done so earlier. There was nothing left. Instead, he heaved for a few moments before falling back into his chair, whimpering softly.

“You don’t know when to shut up, do you?” Antoine dug his nails into Bailey’s scalp. “I thought I already showed you what happens when you piss me off.”

“Yeah, you throw a tantrum like an annoying brat.”

Antoine pressed his hand over Bailey’s mouth.

He smirked at Bailey’s confused stare, that turned frightened when Antoine covered his nostrils too.

Antoine didn’t move away even when Bailey flailed.

His lungs ached, eyes watered, and throat burned for air that Antoine wouldn’t give.

He couldn’t claw or kick or scream, only sit there, terrified and vision blurring.

Antoine watched, a vicious tilt to his lips.

When his eyes fluttered, Antoine released him.

He took the biggest breath of his life and tears trickled down his cheeks.

“You’re becoming quite entertaining,” Antoine said, bringing the same chair over. He placed it at Bailey’s side, sitting with one leg over the other and arms crossed. “You know, you kind of remind me of Isaiah.”

Bailey’s wide-eyed reaction made Antoine’s devilish smirk take on a new form of demonic.

“Ah, do you know who Isaiah is?” he asked. “I’m shocked. My son likes to pretend he’s a good person by hiding his past.”

“Zane is a good person,” Bailey countered, taking deep breaths like his lungs couldn’t process that he could breathe properly again.

“Would you still feel that way if I told you what happened?”

“Of course I would.”

“And if I told you that Zane killed him?” Antoine almost seemed proud to say that.

Bailey’s gut knotted. His nails dug into the arms of the chair when he shook his head, refusing to listen.

Antoine laughed. “Why would I lie about that?”

“To trick me, you fucking idiot,” Bailey growled.

Antoine shrugged. “Think about it, Bailey. Doesn’t it make sense?”

“Not one bit.”

“I’m sure you know how sensitive the topic is. He likely gets worked up when Isaiah’s name is so much as mentioned.”

“Shut up, you’re lying!”

“He has nightmares about it. Have you heard him call out or apologize to him? That’s guilt. You know it is.”

Maybe a part of Bailey believed that. Maybe a small fraction understood. But Bailey knew that even if it happened, Antoine was hiding an important piece of information.

“Even if he did, I know you made him do it,” said Bailey.

Antoine laughed, actually laughed like he was sitting at a comedy show rather than relishing in Bailey’s torment and Zane’s past. Placing a hand over his lips, he quieted his chuckles, shoulders shaking from the laughter for a moment longer.

“Are you telling yourself that so you forgive him? So if he saves you, the two of you can go running off into the sunset while continuing to run from your pasts?”

Your pasts .

Bailey swallowed hard. He bit through his lip when Antoine leaned forward to whisper, “Poor little Rose Mary. She burned because her big brother didn’t have the strength to save her.”

Bailey couldn’t breathe for a much different reason.

“If only you were a mutant, huh? If only you weren’t pathetic and weak.”

Tears streamed down Bailey’s bruised cheeks, his whimpers escalating when Antoine got up to run his fingers through Bailey’s hair. He felt disgusting, his body trying to pull away from the touch but incapable of doing so. Antoine smiled, a relishing kind of delight.

“You’ll never be the hero, and your sister? Her death will always be on your hands.” With that, Antoine left Bailey, the room filled by the sound of his cries.