The Sunshine Boy and the Weaver King

Chapter Fourteen

Music thrummed through his bones, adrenaline surging through his veins with each step. Up ahead was a woman, two men on either side, dressed in a black bodycon dress and a glittering diamond necklace. She saw him coming. Lips stressed into a wide smile. 

Anthony forced himself to remain expressionless. No fear. No fear. 

He stopped a foot away. She leaned in. 

"I'd recognize you a million miles away," she said, her voice nearly drowned out by the music. "What brings you here?"

Anthony stared hard into her eyes. "Burke."

No change in her expression, either. She'd been expecting him, which meant Jesse had told her he'd be coming, which Anthony had been betting on. 

"What have you got on him?" Anthony asked. 

"You ask for things you don't have the right to," she replied smoothly, her smile widening but eyes hardening. "I got a call from a mutual friend, telling me you might be here."

"Good," Anthony replied. 

Her smile stiffened but stayed in place. "Good," she repeated, slowly. 

Anthony shrugged. "Jesse doesn't make money from staying quiet."

That surprised her. Her lips parted, and then her eyes widened. And then she scoffed. "Jesse? No. No, no, no." Her expression twisted into something like sympathy. "Your parents told me you were coming. And they told me not to let you in, so turn around, go home--" the men at her side started to move forward, "-- get some rest, and go to school."

Anthony gritted his teeth. Jesse, that fucking liar. Hadn't heard from them, my ass. "All due respect," he said stiffly, "I got into college on my own, and I'll decide when I go back."

A hand gripped his shoulder. 

Anthony spun, gripped his wrist, and flung the guard over his shoulder. He heard the click of a gun and held up his hand on reflex, sunlight blasting from his palm. A shout of surprise and Anthony had already moved forward, the heel of his hand into the second guard's chin, knocking his head back. 

And then the other two tackled him. 

His arms were shoved against the floor until his bones ached, the guards shoving their knees into his wrists to keep him from lifting his hands. 

"Dump him out back," he heard her say. "They won't mind."

They won't mind.

His vision singed into focus, his nerves singing and humming with energy. He was exhausted. And angry. And as he lifted his chin to glare past her, into the crowd, he could see a mop of dark hair and a rumpled suit, standing with a beer in one hand. 

Burke. 

Everyone here thought of him as only one thing: The son of his parents. Not even a face or a name. Just a lineage. 

He opened his mouth to yell-- to shout what, he wasn't sure-- and the heat in his body pooled in his chest, burning and writhing. 

Might as well show them what that lineage meant. 

Sunlight exploded from his chest, hot and blinding. The men holding him didn't even have time to realize what was happening until Anthony was already back on his feet, shrugging them off like they were particularly bothersome clothes, their bodies slumping to the ground as they stared at their skin in horror. One of them gave a gurgled gasp. 

"I said," Anthony smiled long-sufferingly, "I want to speak to Burke."

Her patient expression faltered. "And I said no." Her own hands fell to her sides, and she stretched them open until her palms faced him. "Don't make me hurt you."

Anthony's smile widened. His pulse quickened. He could feel more power flooding into him at the anticipation of a fight, light popping at his fingertips--

Burke shoved his way out of the crowd, voice raised to be heard. "Kid," he stopped behind her, "what the hell are you doing?"

"I could ask you the same," Anthony replied. His eyes slid to the woman again. "And tell my parents," he paused, collecting breath, "that they stopped being able to control me the day they left."

He knew he was breaking some unspoken rule in that moment. He might as well have declared war on them, but judging by her stunned expression, and the horrified look on Burke's face, it was worth it. He was so tired of hiding. So tired of shoving himself down into some deep dark hole. 

"They know where to find me," he said. "I don't hide."

He looked at Burke, tipped his head in a silent, Follow me, gesture, and was surprised when Burke actually, well, followed him. 

When they were outside, Burke grabbed his shoulder and yanked him around. 

"I meant what I asked back there," the lawyer hissed, his voice low. "What. The. Hell."

"I know you're spying on me," Anthony replied calmly, forcing himself to meet Burke's gaze. The adrenaline was already wearing off, and he could feel himself starting to crash. "I know you chose me to die by putting me in the Weaver's line of fire."

"You aren't going to--" Burke started to say, then broke off in a huff. "Well, now you fucking are. The whole point of us training was so that when the Weaver finds you, you're ready. Now he's gonna hear about it. Anyone who is anyone in his circle is going to hear about this. Do you realize what you've done?"

"Yeah," Anthony said. "Well, here's the thing, Burke. I'm dead either way. Whether he comes for me now, or comes for me later, I'm dead."

Burke was nodding and pacing like he wanted to rip Anthony's throat out. "So you figure getting your parents involved is a good idea? Huh?" 

"They won't touch me with a ten foot pole." Anthony shrugged. "You said it yourself, the Weaver has his eyes set on me. They won't risk it."

Burke raked his hands through his hair. "God, kid, you're dumb as hell."

"Yeah, no shit." Anthony snapped. "I wouldn't be anywhere near you if I wasn't." He swallowed hard and braced himself. "What's your connection to the Weaver?"

Burke stared at him. "What?"

"Why do you want him dead so badly?" Anthony asked. "You don't have a hero complex. So it's personal. Or you work for him, and you lure in heroes for him to kill off. Little no-names. Dead before they hit their prime. Tell me, Burke, what's the real purpose for that little target room downstairs?"

"Anthony," Burke said lowly, "the more you dig, the less you are going to like what you see. What I gave you was an opportunity. You realize that if I pull away now, it's all over for you? I gotta go back in there and try to smooth shit over--"

"No." Anthony took a step forward. "You don't get to spout some cryptic shit like that and then just walk away. What are you doing at The Solstice? What am I not going to like? Because I'm going to be honest with you, there's really not much I am liking right now."

Burke took two strides forward, until he was face-to-face with him. "You want a piece of the truth? Here's a hint. It is personal. I'm not some lackey working for the biggest piece of shit this nation has ever seen." He moved back, shaking his head, starting to smile as he walked back toward the club entrance. "You are a nuclear bomb waiting to go off, kid. Seriously. Go home."