Hell's Angel (BK 1)

The Devil of Hell's Kitchen

"The whole things moot. After shooting those cops, police are probably looking to settle things the old-fashioned way if they catch up to him."

"Yeah, it's more than likely," Matt said. He didn't seem his usual self. Maybe it's just the topic of the conversation getting to him. "I wonder..." Karen said. "I wonder what Angel is thinking about all of this?" I rolled my eyes as Foggy's grew wide. You know, I think he did forget who I was. Just for a split second.

"She probably knows who the guy is," Foggy said, shooting a glance my way. I, ever so slightly, shook my head.

"Really? You think they've met?"

"The town blew up," I said. "I think right now anything's possible. I mean, they could be working together or they could just now be finding out about the other. But, I think the question that should concern us the most is if they're on the same side. Just going off of the names the press has given them, you'd think they were enemies. I mean, really. Who's ever heard of an angel and the devil teaming up to save a city?" The room went quiet. I had to lay it on a little thick. There's no way I'm letting this cat get out of this bag.

"Just a thought," Karen said, "but we may want to go a bit peppier at the end of the day. Leave on a note slightly higher than deeply depressing."

"Then don't become a private investigator," I smirked. Foggy pointed at Karen, "She's right. You're bringing us down, Dylan."

"What?" I said sarcastically. "You hoped on that depressing train the moment you saw that article." He ignored me and instead picked up his baseball bat.

"High note! Softball!" he said with WAY too much enthusiasm. "When are we getting a company team together?" Karen gathered her things, chuckling. I rolled my eyes and then walked out into the main room to fetch my coat. "We have three employees," Karen argued. Foggy turned to me with a questioning look.

I shook my head. "I'm not on your payroll, Nelson. And I plan to keep it that way." He shot me a look like I was being ridiculous as the tip of the bat fell to the floor. Karen walked to the door and began putting on her coat. "At least two of them aren't blind," Matt spoke loud enough so Karen could hear, as he adjusted his glasses.

"Naysayers, each and every one of you," Foggy said, jabbing a figure toward each of us. "Karen, come on!" He walked closer to her. "Batting practice, you and me, Chelsea Piers. What do you say?"

"I would, it's just that I have this thing."

"Go, do that thing. Not a problem."

"Okay, um...see you tomorrow."

"We'll be here," Foggy said, clearly disappointed. Karen waved and then left. I stood by the desk with Matt, clutching my coat in my hands. I sighed, tired from a day of doing nothing. "Well, I'm out of here, too," I said.

"Thank you, Miss Dylan," Matt said, "for...fixing the printer, again."

"Yeah, well...I'd suggest getting a new one," I shrugged, jokingly.

"Oh, come on," Foggy said. "If we did that, you'd never come by again." Matt and I chuckled.

"No, I would," I said it like he was stupid for suggesting otherwise. And he was. I love coming here and shooting the breeze with these guys. And Foggy and I have always had fun together. He's just desperate, right now. I unfolded my coat, trying to get up the guts to put it on. Everything I do hurts. I must've been staring at the coat in my hands longer than I thought, because I hear Matt say, "Would you like some help with that?"

I could tell by his tone he wasn't joking. He was being completely serious. He might not be able to see the stitches on the side of my forehead, but he knew I was injured the other night. And, a lot worse than Foggy was. Of course no one knows it was a bullet, but stitches are stitches. "Yes, please." Matt was standing before I finished speaking.