Waiting for Owen to return again is worse than standing in line for a popular rollercoaster. Maybe he forgot about me. He could just be covering his tracks, though. The other villains may not agree with me being released.
Or he could just be looking for my leash.
"I'm back. We have to be quick about this, though." Owen jogs down the small corridor and unlocks my cell.
I clear my throat, "If you'll take the cuffs off I promise it'll be the quickest walk of your life."
He scowls at me before opening the door, "Nice try. We need to hurry up because the board needs to speak with me."
I don't reply because I'm honestly tired of trying to sass him. I just want fresh air and to be able to see the outside world. The quicker I get out there the better. However Owen seems to be taking his sweet, precious time despite his previous rush.
"Put these on." He takes off a pair of black sunglasses that were hooked to the front of his white t-shirt. He places them in my hand and I slide them on my face with a little difficulty.
"Can we go now?" I plead. I'm still in my tank top and gym shorts I wore to bed.
He takes off a ball cap he wasn't wearing earlier and pops it on my head, "Now we can." His light brown hair ruffles upon removing the hat.
"Is all of this necessary?" I swipe away his hand but leave the Braves cap on.
His eyes meet mine and for a split second I think I detect empathy. What could he possibly be thinking?
"Yes, it's a mess out there without you." He replies, avoiding my eyes now. He grabs my right wrist which automatically drags the rest of my body along.
"What're you talking about? How bad could the town be in one night?" I don't typically answer to stress calls in the night anyways. How could the town be a mess?
Owen snaps his head left and right before leading me up the stairs to the main floor of the hotel. I suppose my walk is a secret after all. It's rather peculiar that my kidnapper is also my accomplice.
He guides me to the left, down a hall that I recall led to the bathrooms. We're not going out the main doors? I guess that would be rather obvious.
At the end of the hall there's an exit and he pushes against the door with barely any force. For some reason I expect an alarm to go off, but that would be troublesome for us for sure. What I want is for someone to catch us, though.
All of a sudden we're out in an alley and Owen has let go of my wrist. He trusts me to walk on my own? He begins to peer around the corner and then ushers for me to walk behind him.
As we take a few steps on the sidewalk in broad daylight, he loosens up a bit and I can see his shoulders slump in relaxation. His statement from earlier is still prying in the back of my mind. As calm as he looks, it can't last.
"So why is the town a mess?" I ask, though as I look around I don't see any evidence to back up his statement.
He snaps his head to look at me. Did he forget I was here or something? "You'll see when we get farther into town. Just a day after your epic battle with Red Raven and the town goes ballistic when you don't show up for duty." He finishes with a roll of his eyes.
"A day?!?" I screech, but manage to keep my voice down before I cause any glances this way. No one was paying us any attention anyways. You'd think my handcuffs would be an eye catcher, but with Owen in front of me, I assume my hands are covered from the public's eyes.
Owen nods his head, "Yes, a day."
Good grief, why has no one come for me?!?
A tear slips down my cheek, and I struggle to wipe it away. In my silence, Owen turns around to spot the streaks flowing down my face.
"Um... Alright. Tears aren't really something I handle well." He murmurs to himself.
I fume, "What did you do to my friends?"
Owen notices my voice rising and pulls me into another alley. He puts his hands on my shoulders as I pull myself together. I want to tell him to get his hands off of me, but I'm blubbering like an idiot to the point I can't speak.
"I didn't do anything to your friends. The reason they haven't come for you is because I left a note that says you ran away." He looks me dead in the eyes, his own eyes frantically searching mine. If that was supposed to calm me down, it did the opposite.
"You told them I ran away?" I meant to shout it, but my words came out weak.
"I- I didn't tell them. It was in a note. And I didn't write the note, the board did. I just put it on your desk for them to find."
There's something off about Owen, other than the fact he looks like Thomas. He says he's a villain but I've never heard of him. He says he's my kidnapper but I doubt this guy could hurt a fly.
"So you're just the messenger?" I sniff.
He nods slightly, "Yeah."
"But you're also the delivery boy." I mock. He sighs in defeat.
"My role is complicated. We need to keep moving, unless you've had enough sunlight." He turns around and walks back onto the sidewalk. Do I have any choice in following him? Will the handcuffs shock me if I go out of my boundary?
I jog a few steps to catch up, wondering if I can finally coax some answers out of him. There's no way he'll put me off if I keep asking, right?
"Owen, you still haven't told me why you look like Thomas."
His shoulders slump, and he throws his head back with a moan, "Can you stop asking that?"
"Can you stop avoiding it?" I throw back. If I could, I would put my hands on my hips or cross my arms over my chest. Instead I'm standing there, awkwardly, taking in the morning breeze. Give it an hour, the summer heat will leave you gasping for air.
The dance wasn't our last day of school, but it might as well have been. After we escaped the gym, the villains attacked the school. We drove by after the chaos and found the school in shambles. That's one way to get an early summer vacation. I don't know where that puts us in going back to school, but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it. If I get to it.
Owen continues to walk in front of me, still refusing to answer my question. I jump in front of him so he skids to a halt.
"Are you a clone?" I start.
"What?" Owen's face contorts in confusion.
I nod my head, "Or a stunt double. Are you good with movie makeup?"
"Wow, you're really bad at guessing." He pushes past me with a glare in his eyes.
"How old are you?" I continue to pester him. My mom always said if I ever got kidnapped they would return me because I was too annoying. Maybe this will come in handy now.
"19." He finally responds. He's the same age as Mason, two years older than me.
I tap my chin, "So are you in college?"
"Yes." He looks both ways before crossing the street. I skip along beside him, trying to cause attention.
"Do you have a job?" I ponder as I match his pace.
"Yes, but you're making it really difficult." He sits down on a park bench and pats the space next to him. He grabs a couple newspapers from the stand and passes one to me. My school is on the front page, a huge picture of the ruins of Lincoln Grove.
Owen sighs and balls the pages of the newspaper in his hands. I promise I didn't do anything this time.
"Look, as much as I want to explain what's going on to you, there's just no chance of me spilling any secrets. You're just going to have to deal with the fact that I look like Thomas."
Owen jumps up and snatches the newspaper from my hands, tossing both of our covers back into the stands. The stand door slaps close, making a few people look our way with raised eyebrows. Good going, Trident. Very smooth.
"I don't think it's smart for me to continue wearing these cuffs in public if you want to keep my identity a secret." I whisper, glancing in the other direction when people look at me.
"You're right. I'll just stop taking you on walks." He mutters as I trail behind him.
There are a few times where I look into the sky for my brother, but he's not there. There are no supers around. Just blue, empty skies.
I take a large step to cross over the sidewalk crack. This has got to be the worst day of my life. The town is too quiet as we pass by tiny window shops on main street. That's when it dawns on me that what Owen said is true; the town is a mess. They've gone right back to shutting their doors and closing the curtains.
In one day.
"Rapid Glare," Owen turns his upper body to address me.
"Call me Della." I reply, looking into the shops.
"Della, I don't know if we can make these walks a habit but-" he turns around and freezes in place as he looks at me. His eyes grow wide.
"What?" I ask, looking at my reflection in a random window.
"Your hair-" he stammers.
I sigh, "Is white. Great. This again." I pick up a strand of hair and examine it. Why on earth is my hair turning white again? I thought this problem was resolved. Well I guess I'm certainly in the clear now as far as identity goes. Owen will be thrilled.
"Why is your hair white?" Owen asks. Then something clicks in my brain. Owen doesn't know why my hair is white. He's clueless. The Red Ravens would know exactly why. Thomas would know why.
"You're not a villain, are you?" I accuse Owen. He's taken back and his eyebrows furrow in confusion.
"What are you talking about?" He stutters. His eyes shift back and forth. That's how I know I've got him.
"Who are you, Owen? Because you're definitely not a villain."
A/N
Aaahhhhh snap! Anyone have any theories who Owen might be?
Let me know how you're liking the book so far! Do I need to be more descriptive, have less dialogue, etc.?
Who's ready to see the mystery gang? I know I am! I already miss writing Jonas' character 😥 Don't worry, we'll see them soon!
Until next chapter,
Always, Sunny