"Fuck off, Kaonashi!" I snapped as I threw a pillow at the bars.
The Question stood perfectly still and silent without even reacting.
"I'm sick of this! Why can't you people leave me alone? Minstrel could be my best friend or my worst enemy and I still wouldn't tell any of you shit!"
In a smooth whisper that was definitely not influencing me in any way other than sexually, she responded, "I'm not Batman, Harley."
I shrugged and folded my arms.
"Do you understand the ramifications of what Minstrel's been doing?" She asked.
I turned my head away from her and covered my ears while I went, "Lalalala, lalalala, I can't hear you!"
It didn't work. Somehow she could make her whispering voice carry over eight feet, "He mutilated a woman on live television, Harley. I don't know if you really believe what she did justifies that, and I don't care. The fact is that there's a lot of people that sympathize with her. People with guns that aren't going to be satisfied with this cat-and-mouse game that Gordon and Batman want to play."
I scoffed, "Those militia wannabes couldn't even catch Kite Man if they wanted! They aren't going to lay a finger on my guy!"
I slapped my palm over my hand then bit my tongue.
"So, you are his ally? You need to tell him to stop, Quinn. Cuz you're right, these regular, work-a-day-Joes in their MAGA hats aren't going to lay a finger on him. But they will be able to hurt anyone else. Do I need to remind you what happens in this country when Black men are only accused of hurting middle class, white soccer moms?"
"Go fight them, then!" I pushed back. I rose from my bed and walked up to the bars of my cell. I reached an arm out and jabbed an angry finger in her ribs. "You capes always want people to think you're the good guys. You want everyone to think you're heroic for doing the same violent and crazy shit that me n' Pammy n' Jimmy get called deranged for! I used to think that we were the same, that the only difference between us was that I own my shit and sleep on this side of the bars. But I guess I was mistaken. I'm better than you are, Dick Tracy! Cuz I chose to help the guy gunning for the Klan wannabes, but you're trying to stop him."
There was a silence that hung in the air after that. I pretended that it meant that my words had actually gotten to her and she was struggling to reconcile her worldview with the irrefutable evidence that she was full of shit. But I knew that wasn't the reason. The Question felt sorry for me, I could smell the condescension in her sweat. That was the thing about moody capes, they had arrogance encoded in their very body language. The way she hung her head, kept her hands in her pocket, and maintained that irritating silence was all I needed to know that she thought I was the dumbest person in the world.
"We are not dealing with Klan wannabes anymore."
"How the hell would you know!" I snapped.
"If you know where to look, it's not hard at all to find the ripple effects of Minstrel's actions. There are very powerful people keeping a close eye on Minstrel. If he causes too much trouble for them—"
I rolled my eyes. "I didn't realize that hat was lined with tin-foil."
Again, there was a short silence.
"Did you know that Joseph Grant has gone missing, Harley?"
Continued in CH 14.4