The Butterfly Effect: a Peter Parker Fan Fic

Part 29; Life or Death

We are as indestructible as we believe ourselves to be ~ John Green

"The money is... officially transferred," I whisper on the phone to Rory while looking off of the computer screen. Mom is still at work so she won't find out until later, but Phil and Cam are here and most definitely within hearing range. "I'm sorry, I would've sent more over, but to actually transact more, you need to set up a meeting with your bank and I can't do that so..." I add.

Rory gasps on the other end, "Raven, that is still a lot of digits I am seeing. Is this even legal? How did you--"

"--ah, ah, ah," I interrupt, "like I said, you are not to ask how I got this money. I will deal with the consequences when they come. Until then, just take the money and help my dad."

She sighs, "right. I'll just take orders from a teenager. That's fine with me."

One corner of my mouth tilts upwards, creating a lopsided smirk, "it better be fine with you. I'm the one that'll be killed when I get exposed."

"You're going to get killed?!" she shrieks then begins to pant.

I chuckle, "just kidding!"

"Hey, I think I should go and gather the rest of it," she informs me.

"Oh, okay. Are you sure that's all you need?" I ask her.

"It's plenty. I can handle the rest, don't worry," Rory reassures me, "and Raven?"

"Mm?"

Her smile is practically seen through the phone, "I will take very good care of him. That's what I'm here for, I promise."

"I know," I respond, now radiating happiness, "thank you. Bye then, Rory."

"Bye."

Driving down the streets of Queens on a motorbike and as a woman isn't easy to do without all of the looks thrown my way. Disapproving yet exasperated glances from every neatly dressed adult I speed past. The term speed is a bit of an exaggeration in this case with me going perhaps one mile over the limit. I am a responsible driver in comparison to some of the other hooligans who ride their bikes like they've got a death wish.

The person in the car in front of me appears to be sleeping or something and despite the honking from the one behind me, they don't increase their speed. This is just irritating now! I change lanes and go a little faster in order to overtake them. But no... instead of trying to make plans to save New York and perhaps even the entire U.S.A., a police car turns on their sirens and follows after me.

"Shit," I hiss underneath my breath. Do I give in or put up a fight? The second option sounds more like me but doesn't sound logical.

I veer into the bicycle lane and kill the engine, tapping my leg impatiently on the floor. An officer appears on my right, an old and ugly man- quite typical. His graying hair sticks out from underneath his hat and old-people flaps appear beneath his green eyes.

"Is there a problem officer?" I ask sweetly while whipping my helmet off of my head.

He doesn't seem to pay attention to my face, jotting something down on his notepad. "You were driving over the limit, ma'am," he tells me.

My jaw drops a little, "the dude in front of me was practically sleeping at the wheel and you're going to charge me for going a few miles over the limit while I was overtaking him?!"

He looks up at me, appalled. When he takes in the fact that I'm only a teenager, he smiles smugly and points a finger at me, "miss, I am a figure of authority and forbid you from speaking to me like that! Now, please present your license."