“Angels have daddy issues, too?”
You have no idea, Antenna Girl. The silver light inside her glows brightly.
I say, “You think I’m crazy. What else can you think? But being crazy doesn’t automatically mean I’m wrong. Stay in tonight and be safe. What have you got to lose? It’s one night. By tomorrow night, it’ll be done one way or another.”
“Are all angels as serious as you?”
“I’m sober and I think I just quit smoking. That’ll depress anyone, even an angel.”
“Please don’t tell me you’re vegan, too.”
“Even God isn’t vegan.”
“That’s a relief.”
She looks at me. The wheels are turning in her head. I can almost hear her thoughts, but not quite.
“Okay, Johnny Angel. Maybe I’ll order in Chinese tonight. How’s that?”
“Or you could pick some up on the way home. Don’t want to put the delivery guy in danger, right?”
“Fine. Go and tell Freddy I said to refill your coffee. The stuff you have is turning to paint varnish.”
“Take care of yourself, Janet.”
“How did you know my name is Janet?”
“You’re still wearing your name tag.”
She looks at her blouse. Unclips the tag.
“For a second I thought you were psychic.”
“No. I just like donuts.”
A helicopter shoots by overhead heading south toward the smoke.
Janet puts on the coat hanging over her arm, gives me a little wave, and leaves.
I KNOCK ON the apartment door at exactly eleven.
Tracy opens it and lets me in without a word. Fiona is by the kitchen counter, standing conspicuously close to the gun she held on Allegra and me that morning. I walk over to her.
“I’m not staying long, so if you’re going to use that, you might want to get started.”
She shakes her head.
“Go to Hell.”
She wants to stop me from taking Johnny. The Stark part of me understands her wanting to protect someone she cares about. The not-Stark knows how easy it would be to kill her and Tracy and how simple it would be to justify. What are their silly lives worth versus a whole city? But it won’t come to that. They won’t try to stop me. The resignation is in their eyes and body postures. Their breathing. It’s hard for them. They’re both brave and they want to be heroic, but they know they’ve already lost. Johnny said he wants to go and they know I can take him. The gun is just a gesture. More for their benefit than mine. It’s something Stark would do. Use a prop and bluster to cover up for what he knows he can’t do.
“I’m ready to go.”
Johnny is standing by his door in clean sweats and sneakers. He has a wool skullcap pulled down almost to his eyebrows. He looks like an emo kid who went off his meds.
“You look good, Johnny. I’m glad you’re coming.”
“Me, too. I haven’t seen the Backbone since they took me out.”