Straight Shot ➳ Oliver Queen

21. Rejection

"I figure if we make it a successful business, we gentrify the neighborhood."

"Right. Gentrification." Dig repeated, nodding his head skeptically.

Oliver looked to Dig for further commentary, but he didn't say anything. Oliver turned back to me then. "Come on, Katie. Just because you and Tommy aren't together anymore doesn't mean we can't all still be friends. Come to the club with us."

"Fine," I answered reluctantly, knowing he would just keep badgering me if I didn't agree. "I'll be there. But I can't stay out too late. I have work the next day and I have an article I want to get published soon."

"Really, what's it about?" Oliver wondered.

I hesitated to answer, and even glanced towards Diggle as if I was cautious of him knowing about the topic. As far as I knew, Diggle was unaware of my previous engagements with the Hood.

"The Vigilante." I exposed and Oliver's eyes widened.

"You're writing about the Hood? Karter, that guy is crazy!" He immediately argued.

"He's saved several people, Oliver. And all by his lonesome. That's news people want to read."

"Then leave it to another reporter. I'm sure someone else is gunning to write about him."

"Why not me?"

"Karter..." Oliver started, pausing to take a breath and calm down. "If you get involved in this guy, if you stick your nose where it shouldn't be, you could wind up getting hurt."

"I'm being careful." I assured him. "I'm writing about the Hood whether you like it or not. The entire newspaper is depending on these stories, anyway. I'm not letting them down. I'm writing about the Hood."

###

I returned to my apartment rather than the Queen's mansion since most of my stuff had been delivered and I was in the process of unpacking and actually moving in. It was dark now as we had visited the factory in the evening and then got dinner at a nearby restaurant. Oliver had further argued that I stop writing about the Arrow, and I had further ignored him.

At my apartment, I changed into a pale pink t-shirt and grey sweatpants. Disregarding Oliver's warnings, I opened my laptop and went to work doing more digging on the Vigilante. I had emailed a couple people who had claimed to be witnesses to the Hood, but none had responded yet. Even still, I kept trying. I was convinced there was more for me to find out about him. I couldn't explain it, but I felt so oddly connected and close to the Hood that I couldn't give up looking.

There was a crash coming from outside. The noise made me jump, startled by its unexpectedness. I stood up and crept towards the window. Last time I had heard loud, unexpected crashes from my apartment, the Chinese mob tried to kidnap me.

That was also the last time I had talked to the Hood. On the roof.

I bolted to the stairwell, nearly tripping as I shuffled up the stairs, still dressed in virtually pajamas. I hadn't even bothered to put on shoes so the concrete floor of the roof was like ice on the soles of my bare feet.

"It's you," I said as I stood in front of the door that led back down the stairwell. A hooded figure was shrouded in darkness on the opposite side of the rooftop. A cool breeze ruffled my auburn hair, which fell over my shoulders in loose waves. We strongly juxtaposed each other, him in his dark-colored leather armor getup, tall with broad shoulders and a strong build, versus me, shorter with a slim build wearing lounging clothes.

"I heard you got a job writing about me." That familiar deep voice rang out into the night air. The Hood was facing away from me, staring off into the city lights.