Chapter 12: You Said You Were a Damsel Earlier

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Stromer had crashed the ball. Literally. He had flipping crashed through the windows, and his timing was so perfect it was almost comedic. Or he planned it. Or maybe he was going to crash in earlier but he decided he wanted to be dramatic. Of course.

"Nova Renier." My name was the first thing that came from his lips.

"Are you kidding me?" I pushed up from my chair and looked at him. "What the hell do you want from me?"

"I'm a villain and you're the damsel in distress." Stromer strutted towards me, windows blasting out all around the venue. Of course he had to be dramatic. "I would have thought you'd figure it out, you're from here. You've seen this sort of thing enough to have figured this pattern out."

"I'm not a damn damsel in distress." I bit back. First Spitfire, and now this asshole seem to think that I'm some helpless woman in the refrigerator who served only as a hot piece of ass to further their stupid conflict. No way in hell am I standing for this.

One of the reporters at my table spoke up hesitantly. "Uh you said you were a damsel earlier."

"It was a joke!" I fired back. Both Stromer and Spitfire, actually everyone, were watching me in amusement. "You two," I point at the supposed hero and villain. "Leave me out of all of this."

"You're right." Stromer jumped down and looked at me. "We should be going after actually important people. Like the mayor."

Oops.

The room was flooded with minions, they were dressed head to toe in black. Most of them were just in hoodies and black jeans but it was enough to send the patrons running for their lives. Some knocked over chairs in their hurried escapes while others tripped over said chairs.

Harry and I shared a look.

He held his camera up. "Ready?"

"Ready."

People were screaming and running, we were both doing the latter but we were snapping in between. That probably was not the smartest thing, but I guess you say that it was out responsibility as journalists. It was all going good until Harry and I were separated.

That was when I found myself suddenly lifted in the air. I kicked at my captors, trying to hit anything and everything.

"Let me go!"

When I looked down, I saw people pushing at the doors but they didn't budge. There was pandemonium below as Stromer's minions rallied everyone and forced every well-dressed important person in Belhurst to their knees. The guests were handing over any and all valuables: their rings, purses, phones, and even shoes in some of their cases.

Stromer laughed, "I feel like we have already had this conversation babe."

"Don't call me babe and, let me preface this," I crossed my arms and glared at him defiantly, "Let me go and this time it should be safely, with both feet on the ground."

"Are you trying to get away from me?" Stromer pouted.

"Of course I am." Someone screamed below.

"You didn't have fun the last time we hung out?"

"You dropped me off a 40 story building the last time I saw you." I sneered, ready to claw his stupid red eyes out. "Excuse me for not being your biggest fan."

That was also the first time I met Spitfire.

"You're excused. I have to admit you've wounded me Nova." He looked down at me, his eyes red as blood.

Shit.

All of the confidence drained from me. This guy is a psychopath, that became clear the more and more I looked into his soulless eyes. He wasn't some greedy asshole or some vengeful anti-vigilante. He was full on Joker, he did all this because he got a kick this shit.

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