I think the thing that I find most amazing about the fact that I'm dating Lila, besides the aspect that I can; for the most part, be completely and totally myself around her, is that she has absolutely zero knowledge about motor vehicles. This of course would become very clear to me, on the day that I got abruptly awoken at six in the morning, by the frantic ringing of my doorbell. The kind of ringing where you think someone might be havin' a seizure, while also placing their finger directly onto your door buzzer. Naturally, I brought my gun. I'm not certain why, it might have been due to the fact that I was tired or maybe it was just instinct... I dunno, but as soon as I sprung out of bed, annoyed as fuck, that's what I did. I grabbed my gun. Didn't bother to put pants on but I grabbed my gun. Classy shit, I know, right?

So there I was, Minor Threat t-shirt, boxers, no boots (That's right as much as I bring the shit kickers up, I'd think that I slept with them on too, but surprise, surprise... I don't.) and my Colt 45. I walk to the door and take a look out the peep hole and see Lila. Looking frazzled would be a slight understatement but for lack of a better word, I'll go with frazzled. Uh-oh. There's a problem though. I've got a fuckin' gun in my hand. What do I do? I decide to put it in the potted plant next to the door. When the fuck did that get there? I don't know. But it's there and now, its got a Colt 45 stuffed inside it. Smart move. I'm so fuckin' bright this morning, my father calls me son. Or he would... y'know, if he were alive. This is taking a dark turn, lets move on.

I open the door and Lila scrambles in like a frantic person fleeing a hoard of zombies. Okay. That might be a tad far fetched. But she scurried inside, pretty damn quick and then turned around, looking at me with the most distressed and troubled eyes, that I've ever seen on this woman, to date. I was beginning to feel like I had to start preparing to get rid of a body or something, right about now. Cause there wasn't anything else I could think of that would produce that look from her.

"I did something."

Crap. I have to get rid of a body, don't I? Motherfucker. Okay. Not a problem. I can handle this. I've done this sorta thing before. Not in this capacity or for someone I ever dated but it shouldn't be that big of an issue. Depending on several variables. Like who is dead and were there witnesses. Wait. I'm getting ahead of myself. There's no blood on her clothes and if she looks this freaked out, she more than likely wouldn't have the clear head to change her clothes before she came here. Plus, she doesn't know what I do for a living besides wrestling and formerly workin' for Dave's Auto, so the chances of her comin' here for help when she's got an all powerful, spaceman for a father, that can snap his fingers and make almost anything happen, wouldn't add up. Unless... no, stop it Griffin, no more guessing. Have patience and use your words.

"What did you do?"

I shut the door, grab my cigarettes off the kitchen counter and fire one up. She's wringing her hands together, in front of herself, nervously as she looks about like some corner of my apartment will help her find the right words to use. This prompts me to walk up closer to her and put my hands on her shoulders as I look down at her.

"Lila. Relax. You obviously came here for help, just tell me, what happened. What did you do?"

She looks up at me and steadies herself with a deep breath.

"I broke my car."

I can't help it. The laugh comes out of me and I really tried to fight it off too. She looks a little dejected after that though, which causes me to take a quick drag from my cigarette. There. Problem solved. Somewhat. I silenced the laughter before it had a chance to return. That's a start. Right?

"How did you break your car?"

Fight it. Don't fucking laugh. No matter how funny that was to hear comin' outta your own damn mouth, don't you fucking do it man."

"I don't know."

A pout.

"I know that must make me sound stupid and it's funny to you but I don't know."

Crap. Motherfucking, god damn, fucking shit. I'm an asshole. I just couldn't control that one laugh and now, here I am. Jackass City, population of one. Me.

"You don't sound stupid. I didn't mean to laugh. It's just early and I was out late. I'm sorry. Tell me what happened that made you think that you broke your car."

Her pout disappears and she tilts her head as she continues to stare up at me.

"You were out late? Where?"

Breaking and entering, at a condominium on 3900 N Lakeshore Drive, in order to retrieve a manila folder and a package containing, who the fuck knows what, it's not my job or place to look inside the box, I only had to retrieve it. Then, I waited for Mr. Paul DuPont to come home and I tossed him out the window, after I cracked his neck. All part of a day's... or rather, night's work? Yeah, I can't say this to her. No matter how comfortable I can be around Lila, I can't tell her these sorts of things. So here comes the lie. If it helps, I feel really shitty about it.

"Just hung out with a friend. Had a couple beers. Watched the..."

Watched the what? Think fucker! Think!

"Fight."

That was such a terrible lie. You should be ashamed of yourself. You call yourself a brain? First chance I get, I'm stabbin' you with a q-tip.

"Oh... you mean, Warfare? When my Dad took on D'Ville?"

"Sure. That's what happened. I didn't get a chance to watch it on Wednesday night, so I watched it last night. Brutal stuff."

"Yeah, I could barely watch it, when it happened. What D'Ville did to my dad. He was spitting blood before he passed out. I've seen him go through worse and I know his wounds can heal but it was still awful."

"I bet. Is he okay, have you spoken to him?"

"I texted him that night, he didn't respond till the next morning. It was brief but he seemed fine. I think his ego was bruised more than he was actually hurt. Though, I can't be for certain on that one, because he sorta keeps that kind of stuff from me. He prefers that I think of him as this indestructible, superhero and doesn't want me to see the side of him that might seem..."

"Vulnerable."

"Yeah."

"I can understand that, he's your dad. Of course he wants you to see him as an indestructible, superhero. Might seem silly to you but it makes sense. You're his kid, he wants you to believe that he can always protect you, from anything and you can't think of him as a protector, if you think he's weak. Even if it's only for a short time. It's not the type of logic that makes the most sense, but I can definitely see him having that mindset, especially when it comes to you."

"Yeah, I guess that makes sense. It does sound very much like the way he would think."

Lila looks off to the side momentarily, crestfallen. I'm really not sure what else to say or do at this point cause I was stretchin' it pretty thin with what I already supplied. I didn't have family like she did. It wasn't how Chris Chaos described either. My mom split when I was 10. My dad, my brother Riley and I, lived in a shitty two story house. My pops worked on cars and was a hardcore drunk. My older brother, who had an unconventional way of making ends meet, took me under his wing and introduced me to a way of life that eventually, led me to jail. That was the first time that I killed a man too. That night I got arrested. Anyway, then - The Order, gave me a way out. I accepted and now, I do atrocious shit, get paid for it and lie to my girlfriend. Oh and I sometimes wrestle. So I don't really have this great emotional, supportive side to present when it's needed. I mean, I'm not exactly a sociopath. I'm no, Dillinger D'Marco over here but it's definitely treading into foreign countries for me, when I need to dig deep and find the right words in these situations. Luckily, her silence passed swiftly as she turned her gaze back towards me and said.

"Is that a gun inside that potted house plant?"

Shit. Change the subject. Quick.

"Hey... you were going to tell me how you broke your car, remember?"

Like lightening, I bolt to my room, toss on some jeans, throw on my Grinders; I straight lace 'em so I can do this relatively fast, then I rush back to my kitchen, only to see Lila holding my gun. My eyes are open but inside, the internal me, shuts his eyes and drops to the floor. Like a sack of so many potatoes.

"This is a gun, right?"

No... it's a flower. It came out of the potted plant. Must be a flower. Stop yourself, Griffin. This answer won't help you right now.

"Yes, it's a gun."

"Who's gun is it?"

"Mine."

"Why do you have a gun?"

"It's a long story. We'll talk about it later."

"Promise."

Sigh.

"Yes."

"Okay."

Then Lila did something that Olive, never woulda fucking done. She stuck the gun back into the potted plant and left it at that. Didn't bring it up again. Not once. She just led me outside to her car and that was that. I was stunned but eerily grateful. Despite knowing that things couldn't be left that way, I would have to tell her something, this level of trust was... nice. At the same exact time, it also twisted the guilt blade in that much further. I felt utterly gutted. I could envision the knife turning, deep inside my stomach and then, swiftly slicing across. I look down. Intestines, organs and other bodily innards, fall forth before I can catch them. I hear some of them splat onto the pavement while everything else simply hangs there, I bleed out and drop into a lifeless lump onto the sidewalk. Of course this is all in my head. It's been a strange morning for me.

"So what's wrong with you're car?"

"It just stopped working."

"In front of my apartment?"

A raised eyebrow of inquiry.

"No. From in front of the hotel, the one I'm staying at while I'm working at The Field Museum."

"Then how did you get it here?"

"I picked it up and then, used the ring that my dad gave me for teleporting wherever I want to go... well, wherever on Earth, that I want to go, to teleport here."

I heard the words. I really did. I just couldn't wrap my mind around it all.

"You just picked up your car?"

"Yep."

"Then you used a ring that your dad gave you to teleport here cause obviously, it's an invention of his or alien technology or it's been enchanted by space magic, right?"

"He invented it. Here. On Earth. Though, I think there might be alien and earth technology melded together inside of it, in order to make the ring function as a teleporter. I'm not really sure. I never actually asked him how he made it. I only know how to use it and that he created it, here, on Earth, in his laboratory."

"Right. So you can pick up a car?"

Yeah. That still struck me as crazy.

"My father is Azrael Erebus. It makes sense that I inherited some of his spaceman, super powers."

Okay. That makes sense. She's his daughter. Even though she's half human, she's still half super powered alien too. I guess it's not all that crazy. It was then my mind raced back to the moment when we first met and Lila was mugged. By some regular dude. On the street. I guess this explains why she took me out that day, when she collided into me and totally knocked me on my ass. Still, she can pick up a car and she got mugged by some, ordinary dude on the street.

"Wait. You can pick up a car and you couldn't catch the guy that stole your purse?"

"It was broad daylight and I was in the middle of a highly populated street. I didn't want to draw attention to myself."

No. I don't accept that. Something's still off here.

"You mean like picking up a car, in front of a hotel might draw attention to you?"

"I don't think anyone saw me."

"Do me a favor."

A smirk.

"Never kill anyone. You'll totally go to jail, for sure."

"Oh please, it wasn't that bad, I swear no one seen me."

"What about when you got here?"

"I didn't notice anyone."

I raise both eyebrows in skepticism and slightly chuckle as I shake my head.

"Yeah... do not pass Go! Do not collect $200! Go directly to jail!"

She rolled her eyes and smacked me.

"Hey, easy there, Wonder Woman. You can't be hitting folks with your full Amazon strength."

Another eye roll, but she's smiling too. Which draws a small smile from me as I look over at her.

"So what's wrong with my car?"

"You said it won't start, correct?"

"Correct. It doesn't start."

"When was the last time that you put coolant in it?"

"I need to change that?"

I was flabbergasted. Stunned. I couldn't say anything but really wanted to bust out laughing as hard as I could. My girlfriend can lift cars though. So I kept that shit inside. Oh fuck. And at some point, I'm going to have to tell her about the gun and why I have it. Do I come clean about everything... or keep up the lie? This is getting hella complex and truthfully, kinda terrifying. What do I do? Fix the car Griffin. Stop thinking and fix the car.





"Chris Chaos! Hiya buddy! How's it going? How's the t-shirt sales? Still steady? I know you checked the numbers. You probably have that shit set to notify you on your phone as soon as they rise or drop, don't you? Yeah, you do. You know you do. You check in with Lane yet? Get set up with a doctor to start prescribin' those medications that you need? I don't want to start seeing you, stumbling the halls like your knuckle dragging, half-witted, meatball buddy, Peter Gilmour. I mean, you're a shithead and a total fuckin' lamebrain, fucktard, yourself but I have faith that you're still miles ahead of Petes, in terms of the whole broken brain syndrome that you both seem to suffer from. Anyways, I'm going to let this be a short message to ya. Just wanted to check in and say, I'm lightin' the can of shoe polish on fire, right now as I speak to you. Got a rag ready. My shit kickers are gonna be gleaming like glass when we meet in the ring tomorrow. Just itchin' to get covered in your blood, when I stomp the fuck outta you. Remember, I'm not going into that fight, to win or lose. I'm going in to fucking maim and destroy. See you tomorrow, Captain Equalizer."

"Hahahaha!"

"Fucking douchebag."