by R J Sorrento
“He needs to be tested.”
“Who died and put you in charge?” Fernando stopped for a moment.
“You should be tough on him, instead of blushing like a schoolboy every time he walks by.”
Cal’s breath caught in his chest. Had he been making Fernando blush? And for how long? It felt wrong to hope he had such an effect since Cal had a boyfriend, but he couldn’t ignore the lightness in his limbs.
Fernando stepped forward to respond but he slipped on the ledge and disappeared suddenly, falling off the edge.
“Fernando!” Margo’s desperate cry echoed in Cal’s ears. She reached for her brother but he was gone, falling toward the black abyss of the city streets with great speed.
In a panic, Cal ran to the edge of the building and leapt even though he lacked confidence in harnessing his powers. They had not known each other long, but he couldn’t lose Fernando.
“No! His gloves are off! You’ll be killed!” Margo screamed in warning as Cal swooped to reach for Fernando’s falling body. He ignored her and in one swift movement, he held out his arms and caught Fernando, who had fallen halfway down the skyscraper in seconds.
“I’ve got you,” Cal whispered, unable to use his voice properly as adrenaline coursed through his body. He wrapped his arms around Fernando as he prepared to land as gently as possible. He tried adjusting his speed to avoid a hard crash.
Cal felt Fernando grasp his body on pure instinct, his ivory hands making contact with warm skin as he gripped Cal’s lower back. Cal felt Fernando’s body shaking as they neared the ground.
Despite the tingling in Cal’s back where Fernando’s hands were clutching, he landed them on the ground as softly as he could. Cal was on his back, which had taken the brunt of the landing on the sidewalk. After the adrenaline wore off, he’d be hurting. Fernando was on top of him, panting, his eyes wide. He rolled off Cal and stared at his bare hands in horror.
“How are you not…disintegrated?” Fernando’s face had paled. Cal could see in his eyes that Fernando feared the worst, waiting for him to turn to ash.
“I don’t know,” Cal’s lower back burned where Fernando’s hands had touched him. He lifted his shirt to check for any damage.
“Your back.” Fernando gasped when he saw what was under Cal’s shirt.
“It burns a bit, but I’m okay.” Cal caught his breath as his heart settled to a regular rate.
“But my hands…” Fernando frowned. “They left red marks all over your back.”
Margo landed near them a few moments later. “You saved him.” She knelt to the ground and hugged his knees. “Saying thank you is not enough.”
Cal looked over at Fernando, still shivering from the fall. Cal wanted to hold him, offer reassurance that he was fine, to stop his body from shaking.
“Wait.” Margo paused. “How the hell are you still alive?” Cal turned and showed Margo the red hand prints on his back. “Dios mío.”
“What is it?” Cal turned back around, a little alarmed.
“Your body can heal itself,” Fernando sat up. “You should have turned to dust, but instead my hands scorched you. Even the burn has faded somewhat.”
“So, I have three superpowers?” Cal scratched his head.
“The Holy Trinity,” Fernando whispered, going pale again.
Margo nodded forlornly. “You’re the one Dr. Almighty has been dreaming of creating. He finally figured it out.”
Cal shook his head and argued, “I’m not his creation. I was doing good before he injected me with needles.” Why did Ted choose him out of anyone else in this big city? His pulse raced with anger at Ted’s audacity to alter his body without a choice.
“He’ll be seeking you. I’m surprised he hasn’t found you yet.” Margo frowned.
“We’ve been hiding him well.” Fernando turned to Cal. “When Ted asked if I had seen you, I lied.”
“You didn’t mention Dr. Almighty had been looking for Cal,” Margo snapped.
“It’s for me to worry about. I didn’t want Cal to sleep with one eye open.”
“This changes nothing. You’ll keep training me and then I’ll be ready to face him, if I have to,” Cal chimed in before Margo and Fernando began another argument.
“He won’t fight you directly. He has no powers of his own,” Margo reminded him.
“If I know him well enough, Ted will put his best foot forward. He’ll do anything to convince you to work for him.”
“To do what?” Cal wondered.
“When we were younger, Ted used to tell us stories about his favorite superheroes and villains. I’m not sure what he’s planning, but he’s wanted to bring comic books to life for as long as I can remember,” Fernando said with disdain. “And now he’s created the superhero of his dreams.”
Cal fell silent as Fernando’s words sank in. He imagined an obsessive fanboy scientist cackling to himself among test tubes and needles. The memory of his captor’s face had faded.
“Let’s go home and rest for now,” Margo suggested, taking a step.
“The car is this way.” Fernando pointed as he led the way.
Cal followed at a slow pace. He checked on Fernando, who was studying his bare hands. Cal noted how he stared at his hands as if they didn’t belong to his body. Every time he thought of something comforting to say as they walked, it sounded corny even in his head, so he kept quiet.
* * *
Fernando ignored Cal’s concerned gaze, distracted by the strange sensation of the summer breeze on his exposed hands. He closed his eyes and flashed to the harrowing image of concrete below as he had plummeted down the building. Fernando had braced himself for the end, anger and regret pulsing through him for never telling Cal his true feelings. But Cal had saved him, had jumped off a damn skyscraper to catch him knowing full well that Fernando had taken off his gloves. And like a miracle, the kind he had stopped believing in long ago, Cal had survived Fernando’s deadly touch.
And the reason Cal was still alive made Fernando feel like such a fool. Only he could fall for Ted’s ultimate superhero, the project his captor had been toiling over for years. His heart sank as he kept his eyes on the cracks of the sidewalk.
* * *
They arrived at the apartment, after a long walk and then a drive in silence. Fernando unlocked the door, wondering how much the burns on Cal’s back hurt. Margo headed to her room to rest, her eyes dazed. Fernando headed for his room, but Cal blocked him.
“I’m all right, Fernando. You didn’t hurt me.” Cal’s voice was calm and reassuring.
Fernando avoided his eyes. He brushed past Cal’s shoulder to continue walking to his room but he heard Cal’s footsteps behind him, so he stopped to stand in the doorway of the guest room. Fernando turned, feeling Cal’s eyes search for his while he stared at the floor.
He glanced up at Cal. “I could have killed you.”
“But you didn’t,” Cal pressed. “And I already feel good as new.”
“But if you couldn’t heal yourself…if something would have happened to you…I’d never forgive myself.” Fernando shook his head. “You risked your life to save mine, and I am undeserving of your sacrifice.”
Cal stepped closer to him.
“Of all my powers, this one is my favorite.” Fernando felt Cal’s hand wrap around his own.
Fernando’s jaw dropped slightly at the sudden contact. He had been craving Cal’s touch since the moment they met, but his hopes of feeling the warmth of this incredible man’s skin with his fingers had been quelled just as quickly. He had resigned himself to a life alone and devoid of touch. Yet, here he was in an isolated and windowless apartment with Cal holding his hand as if it was the easiest thing to do.
“It only tingles,” Cal assured him as Fernando’s fingers left red blotches and burns on tanned hands.
Fernando let go of Cal’s hand when he saw that his skin had turned red, as if sunburned. At first glance, he was mortified to know that he had burned such perfect skin, but
Cal was smiling.
“You’re crazy, no?” Fernando teased, grinning a little.
He leaned in closer to Cal and their noses brushed against each other’s. Fernando felt hot breath against his jaw. Before Cal could open his mouth to speak, Fernando had closed the space between them as he brought their lips together.
Fernando’s heart raced as Cal’s lips gently pressed against his own. Cal’s lips were softer than he had imagined and Fernando deepened the kiss, wanting to taste more as he closed his eyes. He had waited ten years to touch someone, to be embraced, but it felt like he had been waiting for Cal his entire life.
The sensation of Cal’s fingers raking through his hair filled his body with warmth and desire. He slid one arm around Cal’s waist to steady himself, greedily needing to be as near him as possible. Fernando sucked on Cal’s lower lip, which elicited a low hum of approval.
* * *
Cal was consumed by the pleasure of Fernando’s lips on his own, and he slid a hand down Fernando’s smooth neck. The blue watch on his wrist sounded, an old alarm Cal had set for a date with Jin. He ended the kiss, sooner than he would have liked, but the guilt was a punch to the gut that dissipated the pleasure pooling there. He thought of his boyfriend, who was gorgeous and smart and put up with his shit.
But no one had ever looked at him quite the way Fernando had, the moment before they kissed.
“I’m sorry, I thought you wanted me…” Fernando looked jarred after the sudden loss of contact.
Cal shook his head, guilty about hurting Fernando now, too. He placed his hands on Fernando’s firm chest, torn between his desires and his responsibilities. Cal had been dreaming of a man like this for longer than he could remember. He found himself eager to see Fernando’s mischievous grin as often as possible, cracking jokes to hear his infectious laugh. He craved his comforting meals and wondered what it would be like to wake up beside him. It felt like he had known him a lifetime, not a little over a week.
“It’s not that. I do want you. And it’s freaking me out.” Cal stepped into his room. He grabbed his wallet and phone and slipped them into the pockets of his jeans.
“What are you doing?” Fernando asked with a hint of panic in his voice.
“I have a boyfriend. I had a normal life that was pretty damn good before I got these superpowers.” Cal paced the guest room, the guilt of kissing another man while he had a boyfriend weighed heavily on his shoulders. What made Cal feel even worse was how much he had enjoyed Fernando’s lips against his own, breathing in the light scent of his cologne and comforted by the warmth of his body.
“If your life was so damn good, why did you come to live here with me and my sister?” Fernando asked. Cal noticed that Fernando was trying to keep his cool, but the anger he seemed to carry inside bubbled on the surface.
“I have to go home.” Cal stopped pacing. He rubbed the back of his head, trying to figure out what to do next. “Gotta talk to Jin.”
“I guess you were right. You do run away whenever things get scary, no?”
“I’m not running away.” Cal looked away from his burning gaze, ashamed that Fernando recognized his flaws and seemed bold enough to shine a light on them. “I just need time to think.”
“Looks like you’re running to me.”
Cal stepped out of the guest room. “This isn’t goodbye.”
It wasn’t a promise, but this could not be the last time Cal would see Fernando. He would make things right somehow.
* * *
Fernando avoided his gaze. After hearing Cal shut the door, he walked into the kitchen and picked up one of the blue plates sitting on the granite counter. He threw it across the room, watching it shatter. He wiped his eyes and looked for his spare pair of leather gloves. Fernando cursed under his breath.
He had managed to push away the one person he could touch, the only man he wanted to hold and kiss and face the world with. And now Cal was gone, and the thought of never hearing his gentle voice or being wrapped up in his arms tore Fernando’s fragile heart to pieces.
Margo crept into the kitchen. “What happened?”
Fernando’s eyes were swollen and red. “Cal went home.”
Margo walked over to her brother and hugged him. She had comforted him many times when they were teenagers in Spain, whenever Fernando’s heart had been broken by one young man after another. “He’ll be back.”
“How do you know?”
“He’s been through a lot. Give him time.” Margo saw the devastation on her brother’s face. “I see the way he looks at you. He’ll find us again,” Margo whispered as a tear streamed down her face, her brother’s pain becoming her own.
Without Cal on their side, she was beginning to lose hope herself.
Chapter 16
Dr. Ted Foyle sat still in his small office at Almighty Labs. The air conditioner unit buzzed, providing relief from the August heat. He’d finished signing the final documents for his latest medical grant. Genetic research was much more respected now compared to thirty years ago and he’d earned many important contacts over the years, despite his humble and lonely beginnings.
He turned in his plush office chair to look at the back wall covered in photos, diplomas, and certifications in gold-plated frames. His lips curled up into a small, satisfied smile as he thought of his many achievements. His eyes stopped on a photo of himself as a young man standing beside his Uncle Declan. Tears stung, remembering a conversation they had shared during that pivotal moment in his life.
“They laughed at me, all of them. They laughed me off the stage,” Ted told his parents between quiet sobs at dinner as he recounted his dissertation presentation earlier today. There had been an opportunity for the best proposal to earn a generous grant, which Ted had prayed for with all his soul. What had cut him deepest was the laughter from his peers and professors. Such blatant rejection.
“Well, I don’t understand half the mumbo-jumbo you go on about.” His father’s eyes fixed on a plate of mutton and potatoes. He shoved in another sloppy bite and Ted knew he was savoring the reminder of Ireland, which his father’s family had left behind for Chicago when he was a young boy.
“They don’t understand how my experiments could change the world forever. With genetic modification-”
“There it is. There’s that nonsense again,” his father interrupted, displaying a chewed up mixture of meat and carrots when he spoke.
“Without their approval, I can’t do my research. I was counting on this grant,” Ted sighed.
“You need a bit of money?” Uncle Declan looked over at his nephew’s tear-stained face. A rare dinner guest in the Foyle home, welcomed by Ted’s mother due to the recent loss of his wife.
Ted had been unaware at the time of the sibling rivalry between his uncle and his father. It was an unspoken competition since childhood to see who had more than the other. Declan had married an older widow since he had trouble finding a woman his own age, mostly because he was odd and homely. Matthew, Ted’s father, was blessed with good looks and had married a beautiful woman. Declan was without an heir, and Matthew boasted about his young boy. After Declan’s wife had died from pancreatic cancer, he received her entire estate. Declan was the wealthiest man in the Foyle clan, and Matthew had an outcast of a son.
Blissfully ignorant to the competition, Ted accepted the generous donation. He spent his days and most of his nights toiling over his genetic research studies, alone but happy.
Declan obliged all of Ted’s financial requests. But with his sudden acquisition of wealth, Ted would later find out that his uncle became drawn to high-stakes gambling. Declan lost money by the day.
Ted continued to ask for money as the demands of his experiments grew larger, and Declan offered it without as much as a blink of an eye. His focus was reaching the goals of successful genetic modification, and he needed to perfect his techniques for human trials. As the years passed, he was getting closer. His childhood dream of people with special abilities like in comic b
ooks would become a reality. He saw only a world of superheroes, ignoring the way his uncle had taken to hard liquor.
As Ted perfected his skills, Declan had begun a financial scheme that Ted was unaware of. He found out after it was too late that his uncle had convinced his wealthy acquaintances at the local country club to invest in his scientific research. The investors later divulged to Ted that Declan had hinted that Ted could find a cure for cancer, reminding the prospective investors of his own wife’s tragic demise. They had taken pity on Declan and felt it their duty to be charitable. Their kindness and generosity to poor, pathetic widower Foyle had become a hot topic of conversation during golf and afternoon tea. They had declared themselves saints for their financial sacrifice since they were helping to cure cancer. The investors relayed to Ted that Declan came up with excuses to explain why he had nothing to offer when asked. Not wanting to appear desperate for their financial returns, his investors had nodded in response, carrying on with their leisure.
Declan’s recklessness cost him. He paid the ultimate price, when a young man whose wife had left him after he lost their life savings came into Declan’s mansion in a white-hot rage. Carrying an ax.
What followed was a day that would forever haunt Ted’s memories. He had found his uncle hacked up in the living room, parts of him scattered around the recliner and across the carpet, crimson blood splattered on the pink fluffy carpet. The blue unblinking eyes of his uncle’s severed head stared at him from underneath the coffee table. Ted didn’t know who would want to harm his kind and generous uncle in such a gruesome way. Ted had called the police in a panic, barely able to speak as he blubbered into the phone. They informed him that a young man had already been to the station, confessing to his crime of passion.
After the shock wore off, Ted grieved. His moments of mourning were sudden and unexpected. A happy pop song triggered him one afternoon in the lab. He pictured his uncle’s blue eyes so vibrant and alive as he listened to the upbeat song, but then it snapped to frozen eyes in a severed head.
