Page 80 of Not All Himbos Wear Capes
Not waiting for a reply, I shot into the air, flying away as quickly as I could—but not fast enough to miss the howl of despair echoing off the cliffs behind me.
CHAPTER36
BUTCH
“You may enter.”
Steeling my spine, I walked into my father’s home office. After leaving Xander on the beach, I’d flown back to my condo—half-blinded by tears—packed everything I needed into a bag, and slunk to my parents’ house.
My plan was to stay here until I found a new place to live, far enough away from anywhere Xander would ever find me.
Not that he’ll be looking for me, anyway.
I hadn’t been lying when I said Butch Hawthorne was dead. As far as I was concerned, I no longer had a civilian name—or any name at all. I wasn’t even Butch Holt. I was Captain Masculine and the only thing I was good for was being Big City’s beloved murderer.
It’s what I was born to do.
“Solomon called to ask if you’d completed your assignment, since you apparently didn’t check in with him.” My father was sitting behind his enormous oak desk, hands loosely clasped on the blotter, awaiting my reply with his usual mild disinterest.
I clenched my jaw and stared down at his desk, trying to ignore the fact he’d just asked if I’d killed Doctor Antihero in the same way one might discuss the weather.
“It’s done,” I gritted out, my heart shattering all over again at what those words actually meant.
A choked sound drew my attention to where my mother sat across the room. “Oh, darling… I’m—”
My father loudly clearing his throat put an end to whatever she was going to say, and I tiredly met his gaze again.
“Very good,” he brusquely spoke with the efficiency of a man accustomed to wiping his hands of things. “Now that we’ve solvedthatlittle problem, your mother and I have something important to talk to you about. Please,”—he gestured to the leather chairs facing his desk—“have a seat.”
“I’d rather stand,” I replied with the same level of cold disinterest he was showing me. Doctor Antihero’s true identity was never in his file, but that didn’t mean my father had the right to refer to him as a ‘little problem.’
Xander was so much more than that to me.
He was everything.
“Fine,” he scoffed. “I can see you’re in amood,so I’ll make this quick. The Lincolns finally brought an offer to the table that was worthy of this family, so the paperwork has been signed. You and Gemstonia will be married in a month, on live TV at the Royal Cove Yacht Club. You’ll be expected to announce the engagement outside the Enterprises building on Monday morning so the press can—”
“No,” I interrupted, outwardly calm despite every atom of my being having gone up in flames. “I won’t be marrying Gemstonia Lincoln. Not in a month. Never.”
“Butch…” my mother warned.
“Excuse me?” My father rose to stand, the papers on his desk rustling in the gathering wind. “I don’t believe I heard you right—”
“DID I FUCKING STUTTER?!”I yelled, releasing just enough power of my own to let him know I was serious. “It’s bad enough that you bound me in servitude to Biggs Enterprises before I was born, but now you’re selling me off to the highest bidder somorelittle murder machines can be created? I don’t want to marry a random opportunist like Gemstonia. I don’t want any part of this bullshit. What I do want is a goddamn lawyer to look at every contract you’ve ever signed in my name so I can take your ass to court at the USN and get the hell out of this fucked up cult family!”
Xander would be so proud of me right now.
“Language, Butch!” my mother gasped, but my glare was fixed on the seething man before me.
“You want out of this family, hmm?” my father sneered. “You are nothing without the Holt name—without that mask you wear. Where could you possibly run to? Do you know how many villains want your head on a stake? It’s only a matter of time before you finally meet your match, and since your little secret Suarez is no longer alive to protect you—”
My eyes widened as he abruptly stopped talking, but I’d heard enough.
“You…knewthat Doctor Antihero was Xander Suarez?” I croaked, stumbling backward until my back hit the doorframe. “You knew, and you told Biggs to send me tokillhim?”
He crossed his arms over his broad chest, unmoved by my anguish at this revelation. “Of course, I knew who he was. Xander was the third child of Ender and Signe Suarez—our greatest enemies, must I remind you? He was preceded by The Hand of Death and Ultra Violent. Do you not thinkeverysuperhero worth his salt knew full well the day Xander was born? When he turned out to be a powerless dud—or so we thought—he was somehow swept under the rug before the USN or Biggs ever learned of his existence. The only reason your mother and I didn’t expose him was because he wasn’t a threat, and the knowledge gave us a bargaining chip against the Suarez clan, if we ever needed it.”
Sitting heavily, he incredulously shook his head. “Never in my life would I have guessedthiswould happen.” His gaze snapped to mine again. “But as I said, he was a problem that’s now been solved. A problem that’s been solved before.”
