Jaxx shifted in his chair, his jaw visibly tightening beneath his hipster beard. “Nothing could be further from the truth, I assure you.” He reached over to take her hand in his. “You need this, Sasha, I can see that.” He confided, gesturing to their surroundings with his free hand. “Let your friends help you. Let us free you from this place and find happiness somewhere else. You don’t want to be here anyway, so even if your unfounded suspicions were true—and they’re not— it wouldn’t be your problem any longer. Just rely on your boy Jaxx, he won’t let you down.” He urged, patting his hand over his heart. “I got you, fam.” He assured her seriously, voice filled with feigned emotion and sincerity. “Jaxx has got you.”
Sasha stared down at his hand as it clasped hers, trying to decide why she was so vehemently against his proposal, even though it seemed to offer her the “out” she’d been looking for.
He did have a bit of a point: why should she care what happened to this neighborhood? And it wasn’t like she and Thraex were even…
“What in the holy hell have you people been doin’ all day?” Thraex demanded, bursting into the room like a slasher movie villain finding a cabin filled with teenage camp counselors.
“I always appreciate getting lectures from my interdimensional step-brother,” Kurtz didn’t even look up from his gin and porn, “it’s like listening to Optimus Prime angrily reading aloud from a Tennessee Williams play.”
“Ah, excellent.” Thraex clapped his hands together sarcastically as he turned to look at Kurtz, like he was admiring a particularly impressive painting. “Kurtz is once again having one of his little mental breakdowns,” he offhandedly gestured to Jaxx, “this time in plain sight of the neighbors.” He snapped his fingers at Kurtz. “That’s the way you show people that you’ve changed, boy. Nicely done.” He pointed towards the door. “I’m out there, just…” He trailed off as if his mind had only just now finally registered something. He turned slowly back around to look at Sasha and Jaxx, his eyes narrowing at the scene before him, like a bird of prey sighting on a fish in shallow water.
Sasha instinctively yanked her hand free of Jaxx’s grip, feeling like he’d just caught her having some kind of affair. Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment and she looked away.
“Thraex,” Jaxx began, “I came here to discuss…”
“Get your foot off of Amelia Westgate’s coffee table.” Thraex snarled dangerously, sounding angrier than Sasha had ever heard him.
Even someone as dense as Jaxx understood the peril inherent in that warning and his boot was instantly back on the floor. He cleared his throat, trying to regain his dignity. “As I was saying, I came here today to discuss an employment opportunity with Sasha, and…”
Thraex bent to retrieve a can of furniture polish from a cabinet, then set out cleaning the spot on the table where Jaxx’s boot had been. “Sasha Westgate works for the Westgate Foundation.” He reminded the man, like it was an incontrovertible and unchanging fact of life in this world.
“Sasha Westgate can work wherever she wants.” Jaxx countered, looking over at her as if expecting her to immediately cheer him on. “She’s a thinking, feeling individual, not someone you can order around because you think you own her.” He flashed her a thumbs up with one hand, accepting the praise he was sure she’d immediately give him. “There’s no room in this world for your kind of thinking.”
Kurtz rolled his eyes. “That’s so limp, man. Why not just ask her if you can give her a fucking pedicure?”
Thraex eyed Jaxx coldly. “Right now, the only thing that’s keeping me from killing you is the time it would take to wash your blood out of my midcentury Rya rug.” He pointed down at the colorful area rug beneath them. ”It’s hard to remove stains from a shag carpet. Please don’t make that worth my time, Jaxx.”
“Nonsense, I think we can calmly discuss the amazing business opportunity I’m offering you all, without any unnecessary displays of toxic masculinity.” Jaxx extended his hand to Thraex. “Am I right?”
Thraex finished his cleanup effort, then put his cleaning supplies aside and focused on Jaxx in earnest. He looked down at the man’s hand. “How is your arm, Jaxx?” He wondered aloud, voice dripping in fake concern. “I’ve lost many a sleepless night over causin’ you that much pain. I was just sayin’ to my mama the other day, I said: ‘I sure hope our boy Jaxx Brixton never gets on my bad side again, Mama, because I just couldn’t bear it if I thought I might hurt my good friend like that again.’” He met Jaxx’s eyes, his face cold. “I don’t know how I would ever cope if we lost you, Jaxx.” There was no sincerity in his tone, just his usual drawing condescension and more than a hint of outright malice.
Jaxx seemed to be unsure if that obvious threat was a threat, and instead got to his feet. “I guess I should be going.” He quickly announced.
“Aaaaand the emasculation is complete.” Kurtz announced, still sounding disgusted. “Pitiful.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and started pressing buttons. “I’m unfollowing your bitch-ass on Twitter.”
“Sasha, it was lovely talking to you, as always.” Jaxx shook her hand, already heading towards the door. “Please consider my offer. I’ll be in touch.”
“How come you talk to Miss Sasha in person and not me, Jaxx?” Thraex wondered, keeping pace with the man’s exit in another blatant attempt at intimidation. “All I get is phone calls to my mama.” He followed along with Jaxx like a jackal stalking a wounded animal. “We used to be such close friends, but then you left, and life was like: ‘The world is so dark, but I remember what it was to see the sun.’”
Jaxx turned to look at her. “Ask your step-brother what happened at Anderson Observatory. And why everyone involved with him in that deal seems to be turning up dead this week.”
Sasha’s forehead furrowed, unfamiliar with the name.
Thraex took a threatening step towards him and Jaxx all but ran from the room. He was escorted down the hall by Zhanna, who followed him like she wanted to make certain he didn’t stop and steal anything.
Sasha got to her feet and ran her hands over her dress self-consciously, feeling like she should be embarrassed about something.
She couldn’t think of what though.
The visit had been entirely innocent.
And more to the point, it wasn’t like she and Thraex were dating or anything.
So feeling like this was silly.
Thraex reappeared a second later, standing in the doorway to the little model home and looking deeply displeased.
“Oh, I know that look.” Kurtz announced. “When I was 17, I was dating this girl, Selena. Built a ‘Hostility Ray’ to impress her, which tapped into human emotions and made everyone hate each other.” He thought aloud. “Then it misfired and gave pretty much everybody a good dose, and dammit if society still hasn’t recovered from it. Sometimes I watch the news and feel almost guilty about…”
Thraex payed absolutely no attention to Kurtz, his eyes burning into Sasha’s. “So, you’ve decided to skip out on your job to have a friendly cup of tea with war criminals now? That it, Miss Sasha?”
“He’s not a war criminal,” she defended, still strangely feeling like this was somehow a betrayal she’d been caught in, “he once worked for the Freedom Squad, but he was completely in the dark about the terrible things they were doing, just like you were.”
Thraex stared at her silently, not agreeing with that or arguing against it. “Damn, I would love to live in your world for an afternoon, chère.” He finally said in amazement. “It must be so nice there.”
The room fell into silence. Just the Westgates and Thraex’s unspoken rage.
Sasha couldn’t take it any longer and looked down at her shoes.
“You really are an asshole, Thraex.” Kurtz told him seriously, eyes narrowing at him. “And rumor has it, you’re a murderer too.”
Thraex straightened his tie, which was chartreuse and orange checkerboard today. “But I’m also the only man left in the house who isn
’t a hopeless drunk or a dinosaur, which is something.” He pointed to the oddly styled refrigerator in the kitchen of ‘The Home of Tomorrow,’ which was a large turntable located in an upper cabinet, “I put the food on the table here. And I had a job all lined up for us today.” He gestured to them. “But you and your family decided to skip it. Other matters, like moping and giraffes and vintage pornography were apparently more important.”
“Or matters like the two murders that have taken place in the last 48 hours.” She defended. “And… and how they all seem to relate back to you.”
“Ah, I see.” He pointed over his shoulder towards the door Jaxx had just exited through. “Is that why tea with ex-Capes who hate us suddenly has priority over our business? Conspiracy theories?” He started to absently straighten up the space, as if erasing any evidence that Jaxx had ever been there. “I spent my morning explainin’ to our client about how the Westgates aren’t lazy, no, they’re just tied up with a secret project which will top anythin’ they’ve ever done.” He paused, glaring at them again. “In other words: I had to lie. And I hate lyin’. Especially for you people. I shouldn’t have to lie to clients and tell them you’re great, you should be showing them that.”
“Yeah, too bad we missed it.” Kurtz closed his Playboy. “Out of curiosity, which supervillain group did you have us helping today?”
“Sorry, Thraex. I just…” Colby trailed off, sounding like she was paying attention to reality for once. “I… I lose track of time sometimes…” She swallowed and nodded, as if making a vow to herself. “I’ll tell Zoe to remind me of appointments from now on. I promise.”
Zoe the giraffe missed that addition to her already lengthy list of responsibilities in the Westgate Foundation, as she was fast asleep.
“Good idea, Colby. You do that, Pichouette, thank you.” Thraex pointed back and forth between Sasha and Kurtz. “I don’t care what the rest of you have been doin’ all day, but if you’re not out there workin’ tomorrow, I’m goin’ to come back here, pick you up and carry you there.”
“We always take Thursdays off, Thraex, you know that.” Kurtz objected.
“It’s Tuesday, Kurtz.” Thraex deadpanned. “And I don’t care how things were formally done. Those ways got you into this mess.” He pointed out the fake window of the model home. “This whole community is crumblin’ ‘round us because of those kinds of ideas. Your social set is spoiled and lazy and is used to bein’ special. They’re used to offerin’ the ‘Minimum Viable Product’ and havin’ people eat it up because of ‘tradition.’” He shook his head. “But all that is done. It’s unsustainable and all those once proud families are slippin’ away. And unless you figure on joinin’ them in their communal suicide over their refusal to do their damn jobs, from now on, we will do things my way.” He tapped a finger against his chest. “And anyone who objects to that is perfectly free to leave my little Westgate menagerie behind and fend for themselves on the street.” He pointed towards the front of the building. “The door is that way. It’s vintage stained glass and has got a big blue ‘W’ on it.”
“What was he talking about, Thraex?” She asked, keeping her voice level but serious. “What’s this about an observatory? What did you do?”
Thraex was silent for a beat, then his eyes narrowed in anger. “Jaxx Brixton isn’t welcome in my home, Miss Sasha.” He spat out. “If you feel the need to entertain him again, please do so at some other location, understood?” He stormed from the room. “This family is going to survive, if it kills us all!”
He slammed the door and Sasha was left staring at it, wondering if she’d ever really known the man at all.
And that idea terrified her.
Chapter 12
“Patty Westgate. Died 1955. On the moon. Damned if anyone knows how she got there, but that’s where she ended up.”
– Thraex, Damn Fool Ways Westgates Ended Up Graveyard Dead: Vol. 1
Years Ago
Sasha was scared.
After the fight in the gym, there had been all kinds of panic and explanations. The police had showed up, but the Freedom Squad had managed to talk them out of arresting anyone, and then it had been a matter of cleaning up the mess.
Honestly, it went far smoother than she would have expected.
Not that she wasn’t still angry at the superheroes for attacking Thraex like that—and there would be a reckoning on that, she’d see to it personally— just that she’d expected more drama.
It probably had something to do with Badger offering Thraex a position in their organization. Such a thing was unheard of and was not generally allowed. Granted, Thraex had been able to more than hold his own against a number of their best, but it was still an out of the ordinary thing. She hadn’t been able to get the details out of Badger, but she was assured that it would be in a more clandestine capacity.
She didn’t want Thraex to do anything like that though.
The boy was still so sweet, he had no place on the world’s battlefields, fighting on behalf of the Freedom Squad when they couldn’t be seen somewhere publically. She fully intended to advise Thraex to reject the offer. No matter what her parents said about it. They both were fully on-board with the plan. But it was wrong.
Besides… if he went to work somewhere other than the Westgate Foundation, then… then she wouldn’t get to see him. And she liked seeing him. Liked talking to him. Thraex was a very easy man to talk to. Even when he wasn’t.
She might not always know what he was thinking or what he wanted or what he’d do, but that didn’t mean she didn’t like having him around.
Literally everyone else she knew warned her that it was a bad idea, but Sasha didn’t care.
She knocked on the door to the Academy’s clinic, then walked in.
Thraex was seated on the examination table, shirt off, exposing the lean, steely muscles of his torso.
He’d been hit pretty hard by Dauntless in the fight, and given that the man was the strongest person in the world, that might have pretty dire consequences for Thraex.
“Are you okay?” She blurted out worriedly. “They wouldn’t let me get to you and then…” She started babbling.
Thraex didn’t look at all upset about fighting half the roster of the Freedom Squad today. He continued to look equal parts incredibly bored and obnoxiously confident, as always. Upon seeing her though, his brow furrowed in concern and his jaw clenched. “Sonofabitch…” He growled out.
It took her a moment to recognize what he was even talking about, then she raised a finger to her black eye. “I’m fine, I’m fine…” She assured him. “Nothing to get upset over, I’m worried about you.”
“I’ve been in tougher scrapes than that, Miss Sasha.” He informed her, sounding bored. “Them fellas and I were just havin’ a bit of fun, s’all.”
“The paramedics say you almost killed Rascal.” She reminded him.
“Well… I had fun.” He corrected.
“Uh-huh.” Still not satisfied with his reassurance that he was unhurt, she decided to look him over herself. “Well, your ‘bit of fun’ almost got you killed. And it put Rascal in the hospital.”
“Too bad.” Thraex drawled. “Hope they have a room in intensive care big enough for all them ladies he’s payin’ to follow him around all the damn time.”
She made a face at him, wishing he’d take this more seriously.
The interior of the clinic was hot, with sunlight streaming in through the window to their left. The transom had been opened to let in the air, but since there was no breeze, it just made the interior humid and added the scent of the freshly cut trees.
She stood in front of him, still unconvinced.
He had been taller than she was for at least 3 years now, maybe longer. Sasha was only 5’6” and Thraex had long since surpassed that. Even with him sitting on the exam table, she still barely came up to his chin.
He had a vital masculine presence, which dominated any room he entered, even if that room happened to be fi
lled with superheroes. It was a remarkable trait to have.
She reached out to move his shoulder to the side to get a better look at a bruise which marred his beautiful blue-grey skin, the mark glowing with his familiar neon bioluminescence. Her stomach lurched at seeing the injury, her eyes narrowing in anger.
“Look at this!” She touched the wound. “Look at what they did to you!”
He shrugged unconcernedly. “I ain’t the one in the ICU, Miss Sasha, so I’d say I gave better than I got this time around.” He defended. “And there were a whole mess of them, so…”
“No, I mean that they had no business attacking you like that. You’re a student, for god’s sake! They shouldn’t be fighting you!”
“Well,” he shrugged, “if it makes you feel better, they didn’t put up much of a fight.” He assured her confidently.
“No, I’m afraid it doesn’t make me feel better, Thraex.” She pointed towards the hallway. “My dad is out there screaming at them for almost killing you!”
He scratched his cheek in thought. “Apologies for doubtin’ you, Miss Sasha, but I can’t see your daddy doing that. ‘Specially not on account of me. Only time I seen him ‘screamin’ about something, was when Kurtz brought that mummy princess back to life and announced they were datin’.”
“Well, I’m sure he is.” She grabbed his arm and lifted it, trying to get a better look at his injuries. “We’ll need to take pictures of this.” She decided.
Broke and Famous Page 26
