Sidekick Returns (21 page)

Tried to kill me.
The words suddenly felt strange in my mind. I mean, I thought about that moment all the time. His hands around my neck. The rage in his eyes. But maybe … no, that wasn't right. I didn't actually
think
about it … the memory was just always there, right at the edge of my consciousness, and until this very moment, until he spoke to me, I hadn't really thought about it … or
felt
it at all.

My father had tried to kill me …
kill
me.

‘It is good to see you,' he said.

I opened my mouth to answer him, but nothing came out. I couldn't speak. My heart … it was beating too fast. My eyes darted around the room looking for a way out. But I couldn't run … I couldn't breathe. My dress … it was too tight.

I looked back at my father. His lips were moving. He was saying something else … but I couldn't hear him anymore. I couldn't hear anything. I reached for the banister again as the floor seemed to slip from underneath my feet. My vision wasn't right either. I could only see the smallest things … the gleam of the polished wood on the banister… a small tear on the rug … my father's cufflink … but none of it made sense. Nothing made sense.

I squeezed my eyes shut. I couldn't do this. I couldn't face him. How could I even think that? I couldn't even breathe. I swallowed hard. I was going to die. Why couldn't I see it before? We were all going to d—

‘Bremy?' My father's voice barked. ‘Bremy!'

The world snapped back into place.

I shook my head. What the hell had just happened?

‘You've been drinking.'

‘I … I … what have you done to Ryder?' I heard my voice, but I barely recognised it.

He raised an eyebrow. ‘I'm sorry? I couldn't quite hear you.'

I clenched my fists tightly then released them, shaking my fingers. ‘What have you done to Ryder?' There. My voice. My words. A sense of normalcy eased back through my body. ‘Tell me.'

I was looking for something in his expression that would betray him, anything, but his countenance didn't change. ‘I assure you, Brianna. Your mentor,' he said the word with distaste, ‘is yesterday's news. I think she proved that on the street the other day.'

I felt whatever had come over me earlier fade even further away. I dropped one step towards him. Whatever that had been … as horrible as it had been … it didn't matter. I
could
do this. He did not control me. Not anymore. I narrowed my eyes and tilted my head in question, ‘And what was
that
on the street the other day, Dad? Feeling guilty for all those birthday parties you missed? Decided to bring back Ricky as a present?'

He smiled, nodding. ‘Not quite.
That
on the street the other day was more of a demonstration. A demonstration of what is possible.' He dropped his smile. ‘Of course you missed the point, as you were focused, once again, on your fallen Ryder. You know, Brianna, I never quite factor in enough of a margin of error when it comes to you.'

‘Sorry to disappoint,' I said, gripping the banister. This time to stop myself from lunging at him. ‘Why don't you spell it all out for me now, Pops? Use small words and talk slowly, so I can understand.'

His steely eyes met mine as he mounted a step. ‘Your sister has forced me to consider the possibility that there may still be hope for you.' The threat implied in his words made me straighten up, but I managed to hold my ground and not step back.

‘What do you want from me?'

‘No,' he said, smiling and shaking his head. ‘That isn't the question you should be asking.' He mounted another step. ‘I think a better question is what can
I
do for
you
.'

I began to turn. ‘Not interested.'

‘Listen, Brianna,' he said sharply. ‘This is important.'

I froze.

‘Every father wants to make his child's dreams come true,' he began. ‘I can do just that. I can
make
you into what you want. All you have to do is come home.'

‘Not happening,' I said, shaking my head. ‘I don't care what you're promising.'

‘Careful, Brianna.' He paused, cocking his head. ‘I will only offer you this deal once. The conditions change if you don't accept it now.'

I held his gaze for a moment, then I felt my lips pull back into what I was sure was an ugly, angry smile. ‘Not. Happening.'

‘So foolish.' He sighed. ‘Have it your way. But you should know by now that I always get what I want in the end.'

‘Hear me,' I said, pounding my palm against my chest. ‘It is never going to happen. I am never coming home.'

‘Really?' my father asked, looking down to straighten a cuff. ‘Are you so sure?'

‘I really am.'

He mounted the last step between us. We were close enough that I could reach out and— ‘What if your sister's life depended on it?'

Chapter 27

My hand flew towards his cheek. He did not get to talk about her! Not to me! Not ever—

He grabbed my wrist midair, wrenching my arm back to my side.

We locked gazes. Neither of us saying a word. Suddenly a man appeared at the foot of the stairs. ‘Atticus! I didn't know you were planning on attending this evening.'

My father flicked my wrist from his grasp. ‘Charles,' he said, descending the stairs to grasp the man's outstretched hand. He looked over to me and said, ‘If you'll excuse us.' I felt the scream building in my chest, but it was trapped. I was too … too …
What if your sister's life depended on it?

A moment later, my father raised a finger in the air, as though he had remembered something. He twisted back to me and said with his shark's grin, ‘Don't stray too far, my dear. You don't want to miss the demonstration this time.' Then he was gone.

I stood shaking for a few moments on the stairs, wrist burning from where he had gripped it.

Then my thoughts snapped into focus. I needed to find Bart. I needed to warn people. My father had said not to miss the
demonstration
. I couldn't let all these people get in the crossfire of whatever lesson he hoped to teach me!

I sprinted up the stairs.

Bart was turned away from me when I reached him, so I grabbed his shoulder and spun him roughly around. ‘Bart. Listen. Something's happened—'

‘Hey! Easy,' he said, turning one half-closed eye in my direction. ‘What happened to you? You look terrible.'

‘My father— We have to—'

He raised his hand to pick at one of the tiny gems on my veil. ‘Can you at least put on your sidekick outfit,' he mumbled. ‘I can't take you seriously like this. You look like Tinkerbell threw up on you.'

‘Bart, seriously, you need to listen to me.' I said quickly, swatting his hand away. ‘We've got big—'

‘Oh no. Oh no!' He pointed at me … or at least in my general direction. ‘You are not backing out now!'

‘I'm not backing out of anything! Not exactly … there's no plan to back out of!' I wasn't going to pretend that I had understood all of my father's veiled threats, but the threat part was clear. We needed to act. Fast. ‘Look, my father is planning something. Hey!' I said, snapping my fingers at his face. He wasn't even listening to me. ‘I know you are having trouble focusing right now, but I really need you to try.' I leaned forward and gave him a sniff. ‘You've been drinking again! Where did you even get the Scotch?'

‘Oh, this really great guy named Fredrick. He's in charge of the waitstaff. It was like he just instinctively knew my heart hurt, and tended to me. You should meet him.'

‘Yeah, no, we've met. He's the maître d' at every restaurant I go to. That's not important,' I said, waving a hand in the air. ‘Listen, I talked to my father and—'

Suddenly I was seeing all the white of Bart's eyes. ‘No! I am so tired of your
my father hates me
story.' He threw his hands into the air. ‘So your father tried to kill you? Whose hasn't?'

‘Bart!' I said, gripping the sides of his face, not at all enjoying the slippery feel of his greasepaint. ‘My father is planning something. Tonight. And I think it's going to be big.'

Thought turned behind Bart's eyes. ‘Isn't that why we're here?'

‘Yeah. Yeah. But I talked to him … and I don't know.' I shook my head. ‘I've got a bad feeling about this now.'

‘Glad you finally caught up.'

I ignored the jibe. My feelings didn't matter anymore. ‘I think maybe I should just pull the fire alarm and get everyone out of here.'

‘No! You can't!' Bart pleaded. ‘You were right. Queenie needs to be reminded of my heroic nature. We have to save the day. How hard can it be? And … and maybe if we witness what your father has planned, then all the pieces will start falling into place, and we'll figure out what's going on with Ryder.'

I studied Bart's make-up smeared face while shaking my head. ‘I know that's why we came, but … but everything is just happening too fast! I can't help but think by showing up here, I've done exactly what my father wants, and, well, I've totally screwed myself … and Ryder … and maybe everybody here.'

He nodded. ‘That is the definition of a trap.'

‘So we need to do something!' I looked around frantically. ‘But what? Bart, if someone gets hurt tonight, it's going to be all my fault.'

‘True.'

I smacked his arm.

‘Ow,' he said, rubbing the spot. ‘Listen. Just calm down. Look around. It's all good. For now, I say we stick to the plan. We keep our eyes and ears open, and if something starts to go down, then we pull the alarm. Besides, I'm sure you're overreacting. Your father's not going to out himself in front of all his friends.'

‘I don't know.' I wrapped my arms around waist. ‘I'm telling you. This feeling I've got. It's bad. Maybe you, at least, should go. I dragged you into this, and you never wanted to be a part of any of it.'

‘That was before I got into this stupid unitard,' he said, ‘and that was before I put on this stupid make-up, and that was before I met my Jessica and her re-animated cyborg companion! So go get your stupid outfit on, and let's do this thing! Whatever this thing is.'

‘My outfit's not stupid.'

Bart let out a frustrated yell, loud enough to cause an echo. I grabbed his arm, jerking him away from the railing. ‘Would you keep your voice down?'

‘I'm going to start yodelling if I don't see you looking less fairy princess and more mysterious avenger real soon.'

My feet stayed planted.

‘You're just having a dark moment, Bremy,' he said, pushing me towards the washroom. ‘Heroes have them all the time.'

‘They do?' I asked, dragging my feet.

‘Yes, but being a hero means you do the thing no one else is willing to do. The hard thing.'

‘Isn't that also the definition of stupidity?'

‘Yes,' he said again, pushing me some more. ‘Which is why you're perfect for the role.'

I yanked my shoulder away from his hand. ‘You're a mean drunk, you know that?'

‘Listen, I'll be the first to admit that lately you've been flailing like a drowning fish, but you're finally cluing into the seriousness of the situation. That's good. You're growing. Evolving.' He gave me one last push. ‘Now go get changed!'

‘Alright. Alright. I'll go change. Why don't you sit and wait over there?' I suggested, directing him first to an ancient-looking divan before swinging him to a visitor's bench. Wouldn't want any more artefact casualties. ‘But if you see any sign of trouble, pull the alarm.'

Bart slumped onto the bench. Yeah, he wasn't going to be much help. He was right, though. It probably wasn't a bad idea for me to get suited up. I needed to be prepared for anything—like staying dry, after I pulled the fire alarms. I swung the door to the washroom open and stepped into the bright fluorescent lighting.

Suddenly I froze. I had walked into the bathroom only to be confronted with … my reflection.

A mirror. A full-length mirror stood in front of me.

I already knew the dress was beautiful, but seeing it on was incredible. I stepped closer to the mirror, holding up the skirt. Queenie had tailored the fitted bodice perfectly, and the draping of the skirt was—

I brought one shaky hand up to my face.

Queenie hadn't made this from the Elvis jumpsuit. Maybe she had taken some of the beading, but otherwise this dress was entirely original. She had used her money, or whatever resources she had for me … for me to have a second chance with Pierce. And I hadn't seen it … not really. It kind of begged the question …

What else wasn't I seeing?

My eyes moved up to my glittering face masked with the whisper-sheer veil over the eyes. I met my own reflection, and it was like I was meeting a complete stranger. I gave my head a shake and moved to a stall to change into my sidekick gear. I had to get a hold of myself. A superhero couldn't be going around having bizarre out-of-body experiences. I needed to get my head in the game.

When I was done, I stepped out and once again looked in the mirror at what was supposed to be … The Sidekick. I loved this suit. I had always loved this suit, but … but it was a joke. I didn't belong it in. I was playing dress-up. I— The horrible feelings I'd felt on the stairs churned once again in my stomach. The overwhelming fear. Confusion. Self-doubt. It was happening again. I quickly moved to the sink and turned on the cold water, splashing some on my neck before I stalked out of the bathroom. No. No. I could do this. Bart was right. I needed to be brave, and do the hard thing. I couldn't let my father get to me. I was in control. Nobody would get hurt tonight. I was going to pull the fire alarm, and—

‘Bart!' I shouted. ‘Don't you dare leap for that pterodactyl!'