Super Secret | Half Hero Book 2 [ON HOLD]

Chapter 10: Sick Burn

The switch on my automatic kettle flicked off, and I listlessly stirred from my butt-groove on the couch to pour myself a cup of tea. I'd been sequestered for days while the entire building was recovering from the shock of the fluke invasion. Galen was tight-lipped about any details while I was moved into another room on a different floor. Then, he disappeared into the investigation.

I'd somehow forgotten about the smartwatch I'd shoved in my pajamas until I tried climb into bed after being sent back to my room. 

When the curvilinear metal dug into my hipbone, I fished it out of my pocket to store it in a more secure location (the tampon box in my medicine cabinet, where no man dared go.) Since I didn't have the thumbprint needed to access the device, and I didn't feel like handing it over to Galen (on account of him being a royal wang lately), I opted to hold on to it for safekeeping.

My mother had been calling non-stop to check on me, but not even Varun's fancy-pants lawyers could finagle a way to get me out (or them in) while everyone went into lock-down. It was as if those brawny ninjas broke into Fort Knox or something. Whatever they were here to do, I'd foiled at least some part of their mission, and yet, I was being punished for it.

I knew the ninjas had been in the Scion lab, I'd seen their super-spandex bodysuits that deflected the electricity rippling over my skin, and I'd held one of their overtly phallic guns, which inflicted similar damage as one of my lightning bolts. The attack felt deeply personal in a way I couldn't explain or understand, but no one would tell me anything.

I brought my nose to the rim of the herbal steam curling up from my chipped Garfield mug. 

Galen's medics confirmed that my ribs were cracked during my unofficial MMA match, but my accelerated healing was already stitching things back together by the time they bandaged me up. At any rate, it was much easier to take a grateful sniff. The water was too hot to drink, but the vapors felt cleansing as they warmed my nose and throat with notes of citrus flower.

Much like my sodden tea bag, the longer I was left to stew alone, the deeper and more flavorful my resentment became.

I could blow out of this state-sponsored Popsicle stand anytime I wanted. My cooperation with Project Scion was a public charade to keep the masses happy while protecting my mom and my brother from Hamm. I thought I could keep my family safe playing by the government's rules, but the game was rigged in their favor. It always was.

Galen and his crew of super-scientists had all the benefits of my incredible powers (not to mention unfettered access to my biological material and sunny disposition) yet they didn't have to tell me anything they deemed too classified. And yet, I was being treated like a hostile witness.

I clearly wasn't going to be afforded any basic human rights because they didn't see me as one of them. I was like all the other threats they dealt with, a piece of property to potentially acquire or exploit. If it weren't for my mom's tireless efforts (and Varun's bottomless pockets), I'd probably be visiting my family from behind plate glass or eating checkers in some remote booby hatch until they decided to cut me open.

My resentment was clouding my ability to think straight. All I wanted was a simple answer. Who was C.E. and what were they after in the Scion lab? 

Just about the only thing Galen had bothered to explain (at great lengths) was what the government would do if I stepped out of the careful lines they'd drawn (again.)

I desperately missed Mac's no-nonsense attitude. He always had a way of cutting through the crap to help me focus. The thought left me choking on the remorse of my friend's (possible) death and no closer to the truth.