Your Girlfriend Calls Me Daddy-Chapter 35 | The Backlash From Gravity Jail Is Worth It For The view

Chapter 35: 35 | The Backlash From Gravity Jail Is Worth It For The view

His body slammed into the concrete hard enough to crater the street. His growth stopped. Reversed. Started shrinking as his Essentia gave out under the sudden pressure.

Titan caught herself mid-fall. Hit the ground on her hands and knees instead of her back. Controlled landing. No crushed cars. No dead civilians.

She looked around. Confused.

Trying to figure out what just happened.

The villain wasn’t moving anymore. He’d shrunk back down to normal size. Unconscious. Pinned under gravity he couldn’t fight.

Then I let go.

The purple glow in my eyes faded.

The headache hit immediately.

Oh.

Oh that’s not good.

My vision blurred at the edges. White spots danced across everything. The pain started behind my eyes and spread backward into my skull like someone was driving nails through my optic nerves.

I pressed my palm against my temple.

Blinked hard.

Vision came back slowly. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

Blurry. Then clear. Then sharp again.

The spots faded.

The pain didn’t.

I’d held Gravity Jail active for maybe ten seconds total. And it felt like I’d just run a marathon with my brain.

Backlash.

Right.

The system did mention that.

I looked up.

Titan was still on her hands and knees in the middle of the intersection. Her size was shrinking now. Fifty feet down to forty. Thirty. Twenty.

She stopped at her normal height.

Stood up.

Looked directly at me.

Shit.

The news helicopter was still circling. Camera still rolling. Which meant whatever happened next was going live to about a million people watching Channel 7’s morning coverage.

Titan walked toward me.

Each step made the ground tremble just slightly. Residual effect from her Essentia. She wasn’t even trying to be intimidating. She just was.

She stopped about ten feet away.

Up close she was even better. The suit really did leave nothing to the imagination. Her chest strained against purple fabric that probably cost more than my car. Her waist pulled in tight before flaring out into hips that could stop traffic without the gigantification.

Her face was sharp. Pretty. Angular in ways that photographs couldn’t quite capture.

Green eyes locked on mine.

She smiled.

"Did you just help me?"

Her voice was lower than I expected. Smoother. The kind of tone that would sound good on a promotional video or an agency recruitment ad.

I shrugged.

"Looked like you had it handled. Just made sure the bastard stayed down."

"What Essentia was that?"

"Gravity manipulation. Ocular activation." I kept my voice level.

"You’re a student."

Not a question. Statement of fact. The uniform probably gave it away even before she heard my age in my voice.

"Coastline Academy. First year."

"And you’re out here using unregistered abilities in the middle of an active incident." There was an edge to her voice now. Professional. The kind of tone that came right before the lecture about jurisdiction and civilian interference protocols.

Oh here we go.

"Registered actually. Just got the scan updated yesterday." Lie. Complete lie. Total fabrication. But she couldn’t verify it standing here in the middle of the street with cameras rolling and half the Shore District watching through their apartment windows.

Her eyes narrowed slightly.

"What’s your name?"

"Rome D’Angelo."

Recognition flickered across her face. Not surprise exactly. More like confirmation of something she’d already suspected.

"Angelo Corporation."

"That’s the one."

She looked me over. Head to toe. Took her time about it.

When her eyes came back to mine they’d changed. Less professional. More interested.

"You always run toward danger or is today special?"

"Seemed like the thing to do. You know. I am trying to be a hero."

She laughed. "What’s your hero name?"

"Don’t have one yet. Transfer student. First day was yesterday."

"And you’re already out here playing vigilante."

"Playing hero. There’s a difference."

"Is there?"

"Heroes get thanked. Vigilantes get arrested."

Another laugh.

She stepped closer.

Close enough that I had to tilt my head back slightly to maintain eye contact.

Close enough that I could smell her perfume under the sweat and concrete dust.

"You’re interesting, Rome D’Angelo."

"I get that a lot."

"I bet you do."

The helicopter circled lower. Camera definitely on us now.

Titan glanced up at it. Waved again.

Looked back at me.

"I should probably arrest you for interfering with hero work."

"Probably."

"But I’m not going to."

"Appreciated."

"Consider it a professional courtesy. One hero to another."

She pulled something from somewhere in her suit that I wouldn’t have guessed had pockets. Card stock. Professional. Agency branding across the top in silver foil. Below that her name. Contact line. Office number. And at the very bottom, added in black pen with neat handwriting, something that wasn’t printed there originally.

A personal cell number.

She held it out between two fingers.

I took it.

The paper was still warm from being pressed against her.

"Vanguard’s recruitment pool opens after the festival," she said. "We’re selective. But we’re interested in people who can think under pressure. People who don’t freeze when the situation changes. People who run toward the problem instead of waiting for someone else to handle it."

I turned the card over once. Back side blank except for the agency logo watermarked faint across the center.

Front side had her cell number staring back at me in ink that hadn’t fully dried yet. She’d written it recently. Maybe in the helicopter. Maybe while walking over here. Either way it meant she’d already made the decision before we started talking.

I slid the card into my jacket pocket. Interior left. Same place I kept my wallet.

"I’ll think about it."

"Good." She tilted her head slightly. Eyes still on mine. "Make sure you do."

She turned to go.

Stopped.

Looked back over her shoulder.

"Thanks for the assist, Rome. That could’ve gotten messy."

"Anytime."

She smiled.

Then she walked away.

I watched her go.

Specifically I watched the way the suit moved with her. The way her hips swayed. The way her ass looked even at normal size.

The camera was definitely still filming.

I turned and walked back to the Mercedes.

Marco had the door open.

"Interesting morning, sir."

"You could say that."

I slid into the back seat.

Marco pulled back into traffic. The intersection was clearing now. Police were arriving. Containment team to handle the unconscious villain.

I leaned back against the leather.

My head still hurt. The backlash from Gravity Jail was fading but not gone. Using it for ten seconds had nearly knocked me on my ass.

I’d need to build up tolerance. Practice. Figure out the limits before I tried using it in an actual fight.

But it worked.

That was the important part.

It worked and I’d just field-tested it on live television with plausible deniability and a sexy three-star hero as my alibi.