Chapter Two
October 25th, 6:02 PM
Slender, radiant, full-featured Erin Steele sat chin-deep in the tub, looking at her toes sticking up from the surface of the hot, bubbly water. She picked up the glass of red wine standing near her head and brought it gently to her lips. She tipped the glass slightly, letting the liquid flow liberally into her open mouth, tasting the sweet and bitter tones of her favorite evening treat. "Ahhh," she exhaled, setting the glass back on the rim of the tub.
It had almost been two whole days since "The Night at Hillbilly Manor," as Erin and Margot were already referring to it; forty-eight hours since the wildest, weirdest, and most perilous night of Blue Lynx's young superheroine career. Erin didn't like dwelling on the details-- the gas attack, the knockouts, Jackson's sexual advances, and her secret identity being revealed-- but on the whole, the trip to the country had to be counted as a major success. The young women had discovered a major hub of the city's underground drug operation. They had incapacitated two nasty, pathetic drug manufacturers; Margot had called the cops once they girls were finished taking photos of the site, and Jackson and Clayton were now in custody. And they had discovered that it was none other than Brent Hammerson, the main political rival of Erin's father, Mayor Steele, who was in charge of the drug house and, most likely, several others.
Her body still ached from that night-- Clayton's knockout punch still rang in her head, and her wrists were still pink from the ropes-- but it was all worth it, right?
Right?
Erin had to admit that, for the first time since donning the costume of the Blue Lynx, she felt fear. She could have been seriously hurt that night, or killed. If Margot hadn't shown up when she had, Erin's secret identity would have almost certainly been sent to Hammerson. When the two women had come home, bruised, exhausted, still high on adrenaline, Erin slipped out of her costume immediately and crashed on the couch. She had a dream then, a nightmare. Jackson tearing off her mask, then her clothes, pressing his body to hers, conquering her. She had woke up in a cold sweat, screaming. Margot had shaken her. "Erin! Erin! It's just a dream! It's just a dream!"
But that night had not been a dream. It had been exciting in places, and horrifying in others. Exciting when she had sprung through the window and first attacked the thugs; horrifying when those same thugs had her tied up, helpless, were exploring her body with their filthy hands...
Erin tried to drown her thoughts in the wine. She wiped her lips with a soapy, bubbly hand. "This isn't right," she thought. "This isn't me. I'm not supposed to be afraid. I'm not supposed to have doubts. I'm the Blue Lynx. I'm a fucking superhero."
The city didn't have any time for her worries or whining, after all. Just because one house can been taken off the map didn't mean the drug crisis was over. Hammerson was still out there. He still had more power than just about any man in the city.
"Bastard," Erin said, out loud. She reached over and unplugged the drain of the tub. She stood up and out of the tub, her smooth skin glistening in the lights with tiny bubbles, and walked over to her towel. She had dried off and wrapped the towel around her breasts when she heard a knock on the door.
"Margot? Can you get that?"
And then she remembered: Duh. Margot can't get that. Margot was gone for the night. On some kind of date.
"Excuse me if I don't want to get punched in the face every night," she had said as she told her plan to Erin.
"But, we've got to go get him!" Erin had replied.
"Who?" Margot said.
"Brent Hammerson!" Erin said.
"Oh stop," Margot said, waving her off. "Hammerson can wait. Christ, I've not even had a chance to repair your costume. Go out and have fun, Erin."
Well, she hadn't gone out, but she was having fun. A night alone with a bath and some wine wasn't a bad thing, not by far. But who was knocking on the door? Who knocked on doors anymore?
Erin went to the front door and looked through the keyhole. She didn't see anyone. Either the knocker had left... Or he didn't want to be seen.
Another knock came. So Erin, keeping the chain lock in, opened the door and peered outside. Where she saw, in a gray suit with slicked-back black hair, Brent Hammerson.
On to Chapter Three
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