10. A Chance Encounter

6.4K 223 11
                                    

C H A P T E R    T E N

A CHANCE ENCOUNTER

////////////////////////

I had lost Tommy in the crowd after he had gone off to greet some guests and smooth over the police drama. Luckily, another one of his talents was dealing with cops trying to crash his parties. I avoided the masses of people dancing at the party by hanging around the outskirts of the guests. I only knew a portion of the people, mainly because I went to high school with a large quantity of them.

"Hey, Tommy," I called, spotting him a few feet away from me. He responded to his name and turned around.

"Excuse me." He said to the group of about seven guests he had been talking to. "Hey." He said to me.

"Have you seen Oliver?" I asked Tommy, who shook his head.

"Not recently. I'm sure he's... reconnecting with some old friends. Probably of the female type." Tommy said suggestively. I rolled my eyes.

"That's real classy, Tommy." I chuckled. "Well, next time you see him, would you mind telling him I took off?"

"Wait, you're leaving?" He concluded.

"Yeah," I answered. "Huge, loud crowds... not my thing."

Tommy nodded in understanding. "Let me drive you home." Tommy offered, extending his hand.

"Thanks, but you're the host. You should probably stay."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'll just call a taxi," I said with a grateful smile. I kissed him on the cheek and gave his wrist a reassuring squeeze before braving the crowd again.

I grabbed my dark green leather jacket from the coat check station that had been set up near the entrance of the building. I slipped on the jacket as I thanked the guard by the exit that had opened the door for me. I pulled the jacket tighter around my body as the cold night air chilled my skin.

My heels clicked on the concrete as I maneuvered down the alleyway to meet the taxi. I avoided eye contact with the partygoer who had stepped outside for a smoke. He was leaning against the brick wall of the building neighboring the one where the party was being held.

"You're that one chick." I kept walking, even after I heard the slurred voice of the smoker in the alley. "Jason Mitchell's daughter." He added. I glanced back to see he had pushed himself off the wall and was standing up as straight as a drunk man could. He flicked his burnt cigarette to the side and the flame and the end sizzled on the ground, smoke drifting from it in a thin, white stream. I turned back around to continue walking, but I felt the man grab my wrist. "Where're you going, sweetheart?"

"Let go of me." I demanded, but his grip tightened. My heart was pounding in my chest as I fought to pry his hand from my wrist.

"Don't be like that." He said with a pouty face.

"You're drunk. Don't do anything you'll regret." I advised. His eyes scanned my body head to toe then returned to my face.

"Oh, I'm sure I wouldn't regret you." He said and brushed a chunk of my hair behind my shoulder. Just after the motion, I swiftly kneed him between the legs and he folded over in pain. I took the opportunity to run, but his grip found my arm again and he yanked me against him. "You know, I like a girl who plays it rough." There was the sudden sound of an impact upon the ground as I continued to struggle against the drunk man's hold.

"Let the girl go." I heard a deep voice growl from behind the man. We both glanced towards the source of the voice, finding a figure strategically hidden in the shadows cast by the building surrounding the alley. He was dressed in a dark, hooded jacket and in his left hand, he firmly held the grip of a bow. His right hand was bent and steadied an arrow on the string, drawn back to his mouth.

The drunk man proved to be a coward as his grip on me loosened and he took off running in the opposite direction of the hooded man. I watched him run and waited until he was far away from me before I whipped my head around to face the hooded figure.

"Are you alright?" The gruff voice asked, echoing off the alleyway walls.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." I answered, struggling to catch my breath as my heart rate began to slow down to a natural pace. "Who are you?"

"Just someone trying to protect their city." The voice informed me before aiming the bow in his hands towards the top of the building and letting an arrow slip from his fingers. A rope followed the arrow and planted itself in the wall above a fire escape of the building next to the one the party was at. The hooded man used the string like a zip line and zoomed up to the top of the building.

"Wow." was all I could manage to mutter after the hooded hero had disappeared. I stared off after him in awe, but eventually turned back to the alleyway, assessing the area before continuing on.

###

"It was insane! He just swooped in and the drunk guy in the alley ran like hell!" I recounted, standing in front of Oliver. We were both in his room, Oliver seated in his desk chair. He was still dressed in the suit pants and collared shirt he had been wearing at the party, the sleeves of the shirt rolled up to his elbows, the top button of the collar unfastened. I had changed out of my dress and was now wearing a beige sweater and dark wash skinny jeans, my bare feet chilled on the cold hardwood floor.

"Sounds like Starling City's got a guardian angel," Oliver said with a smile that almost seemed smug.

"That's twice the man in the hood has saved me." I raved. "I've been looking everywhere for anything on the hood– the internet, newspapers, magazines, anything– but there's nothing on him. It's like he just appears out of nowhere and then, as soon as he's saved the day, he's gone."

"You've been looking into him?" Oliver repeated questioningly.

"He's a masked vigilante that no one knows anything about! Of course I've been looking into him!" I said. "Even me, someone who knows every back alley of the internet, can't find anything on him."

"Kate, you should be careful with this," Oliver suggested kindly. "If this... hood... is targeting criminals like Adam Hunt, and you get involved with him, you could get yourself in trouble."

"Don't worry, Ollie. I'm not gonna do anything stupid." I said, sitting on the couch in his room next to the desk. His chair was turned facing me. "I just want to know who he is, you know?"

"I think that's the point of the hood. He doesn't want people to know who he is." Oliver concluded.

"He's a hero. Why wouldn't he want people to know who he is?"

"Maybe..." Oliver seemed to search for a valid answer. "Maybe he does it to protect the people close to him. If people don't know who he is, they can't use his loved ones against him."

"Yeah, you're probably right." I gave in. "I just wish I could thank him."

Oliver smiled warmly. "I think he already knows how grateful you are."

Straight Shot ➳ Oliver QueenWhere stories live. Discover now