4. Jack

CHAPTER 4

JACK

A t first, I think I'm hallucinating, but as the man pushes my chair back and stands, I realize I'm not.

There really is an Asian man in my office with longish bleach-silver hair that frames his soft features, dressed in a big pink fur coat that is surely too hot to wear inside, painted-on skinny pants, and…pink Hello Kitty socks.

Wait, why isn't he wearing any shoes?

"I'm an inspector, and I'm here to inspect your offices," he declares with a pout that's too pink to be natural, and I smirk.

"We don't really have inspectors," I reply, and honestly, I can't wait to see how this one goes. "But if you say so."

"You believe me?"

"Why? Were you lying?"

He looks taken aback, as if he's realized his mistake, then starts shaking his head uncontrollably. "No, of course not. I am an inspector inspecting inspection…stuff."

He's fun. For an intruder.

"I'm sorry. I didn't catch that. Did you say you're here to inspect?"

"Yes!" he says with a finger in the air before he realizes I'm just messing with him.

As he puts his hand down, I notice his nails are longer than usual and painted purple.

"I've never seen you before. Do you want to tell me who you are?"

Right . Focus, Jack . Someone's invaded your office. You need to find out what's happening, not entertain them.

"I'm the insp?—"

"Yeah, I got that. But what's your name, inspector? I'm Jack Lewis. You are…"

"I'm not Jack Lewis," he snaps back.

"I didn't think you were. What is your name though?"

"Jay. I'm Jay. I am Jay." The last sentence sounds more like he's trying to convince himself rather than me.

"Jay, what?"

He narrows his eyes and stares into mine when he replies.

"Jay…Walking. That's right. Jay Walking."

I bite my lip so I don't laugh in his face and nod.

"Your name is Jay Walking?"

He grimaces. "Yeah, that's right. Why? Can I not be named Jay Walking? What do you have against Jay Walkers?"

"Nothing, I swear. It just… it sounds fake, is all. Cute, but fake." I grimace back.

"Well, I am supposed to be here," he insists.

"Didn't say you weren't, but…you are being very defensive, so it does sound like you're not supposed to be here."

"Am so," he answers, and this time, I can't help but laugh.

"I've worked here for years. We've never had inspections. Do you want to tell me what you're really doing here? Or do you want me to call security?"

"What? Karen and Mortie?" He chuckles dismissively.

I raise an eyebrow. How does he know their names if he's an intruder? Is he an intruder or just a new SPAM agent who got lost?

I stare at him instead of acknowledging his response.

"You don't believe me."

I shrug. "Put yourself in my shoes for a second. If you were me and you saw you, would you believe you?"

"Damn right, I would!"

"Really?" I raise my eyebrow even higher.

"Let me sign something, anything, and I'll prove it to you," he says, reaching for a stack of Post-it Notes and a pen.

Before he can sign, I put my hand on the sticky note. "There's no need to sign anything. Just tell me your name so I can check our database and determine you're telling the truth."

"I did tell you my name!"

"Well, Jay…Walking, I meant your real name?"

His mouth twitches from side to side as if he's trying to come up with his next lie, and I narrow my eyes so he thinks I'm being hard on him.

Truth is, I don't know if I even look serious. My face is always grinning. Or so I'm told.

"Well, Jack, if you would let me sign—" he starts.

"What's a signature going to achieve?" I ask.

"If you let me sign, you'll find out!" he huffs like a petulant teenager, and I can't help but laugh again.

"All right then. Have at it." I remove my hand from the top note and watch him.

He seems relieved as he takes the stack in his hands and signs it. Then he points it at me.

"Okay, and?" I ask.

He grimaces and looks at the Post-it Note.

"I'm an inspector," he announces and shows his signature. Again. "Look."

I do, but if there's something I should be seeing, I don't know what it is. "It's a pretty signature, but…it still doesn't prove anything."

"What do you mean it doesn't prove anything? Did you look at it? Did you see my signature?" He shakes the Post-it in front of my face like a desperate man, and I can't help but wonder what he's even trying to accomplish.

"Yes, I did. But, like I said, it's not proof of ID or a badge, is it?"

"Well…I don't have my badge with me," he snaps.

He really must be an intruder then.

"What kind of inspector forgets his badge and identification? You are not very good at this job, are you?"

He gasps.

"Excuse you! I'm very good at this job, thank you very much."

"Doesn't look like it."

"I am! I'm…I'm just new. That's it. I'm new, and I left my badge at home. Please don't tell my superiors. They'll fire me, and I really need this job. Like really, really."

"You don't say."

"I say. I do say, indeed," he replies, nodding like a bobblehead, and I almost feel sorry for the guy. He's not a very good liar.

"Relax, my man. I won't report you to your superiors," I tell him. "I don't even know who they are. If you let me search the database, though…I can find out. Unless you're snooping."

"I am not snooping," he says before I finish my sentence.

"So, what are you doing at my desk?"

Jay Walking turns and looks at my computer, which is open on the SPAM records. The same records I wanted to look into.

Hm…

"That's your desk?" he starts, and a smirk crosses his face. "That's your desk! Well, Jack, I'm afraid you left your computer unlocked."

I grimace.

Is he right? Did I do that?

"Well, I was just in the restroom," I say.

"Ew." He holds his hand up and cringes. "I don't need to know what you were doing in the restroom. Thank you very much."

"What? I was just doing what normal people do in a restroom."

He pulls back his hand and looks at his manicured nails with a furrowed brow.

"Well, I'm not normal. I don't do number ones or number twos," he says.

I groan.

"Ouch. And you haven't exploded yet?"

Jay Walking rolls his eyes and huffs.

"Why would you leave your computer unlocked?"

"I didn't. I swear I didn't."

"Then how do you explain me gaining access to it without knowing your passwords?"

I was sure I hadn't left it unlocked. I never did. Is this guy a hacker? Is that how he got inside?

"Why did you need to gain access to my computer?"

He runs his tongue along his teeth before he says, "I was…checking to see what kind of confidential information you left out there in the open for anyone to see."

"Anyone like you?"

"I am not anyone. I told you, I am an?—"

"Yes, yes, yes. You are an inspector. Got it. It still doesn't explain what kind of thing you're inspecting."

Jay Walking bites his lip.

"So…that bathroom break. Was it a number one or a number two?"

I laugh again.

"You're funny. But I think I need to call security."

"You can call Karen. She can vouch for me. As can John."

"John? Who the hell is John?" I grimace.

"One of your SPAM agents? How can you not know John? Johnny. John of Arc. My man, John."

"Well, I don't know all the SPAM agents who work in this building. I'm a CREEP."

Jay Walking grimaces.

"Are you proud of it?"

"What?"

"Dude, you just said you're a creep. But, like, what kind of creep are we talking about? Like, the kind that grabs asses or worse? Please don't tell me it's worse. You've got too cute a face to be worse."

Did he just call me cute?

Is he being sarcastic, or does he mean it?

Do I care?

No. No, I don't. I'm not interested in men, so why would I care?

Especially intruders who lie so terribly.

"What the heck are you talking about? I am a CREEP. A Criminal Rites and Evil Egregious Perpatrations agent. An inspector would know what a CREEP is."

He crosses his arms and scowls.

"I know what a CREEP is. I feel like I'm looking at one."

"You are."

He narrows his eyes and stares for a moment.

"What kind of shit do you do, man? As a CREEP, I mean."

I can definitely see the amusement on his face, and if anything, it makes me feel…giddy. Which, in itself, isn't unusual. It goes part and parcel with my power, but still. He is a man, and I am, for all intents and purposes, straight, and I don't often get giddy from making other men laugh. Especially not men like him—small, petite, feminine.

"Well…" I start. "I investigate brutal crimes by superpowered people."

"And you named your department CREEP? That is…creepy," he says without missing a beat.

"I didn't name it! I just work here."

Jay Walking shrugs. "I don't know. That's what a creep would say."

I laugh again. He's funny. I don't know what it is about him, whether it's his ineptitude with lying or the confidence in which he carries himself even though he's a terrible intruder, but I'm absolutely and ridiculously hypnotized by him.

At the very least, it's fun talking to him.

"You're still an intruder, so if you don't mind, I'll get security now."

He grabs my arm before I can whip my phone out of my pocket, and I stare at his hold on me.

"No, you will not. I'm meant to be here. How many times do I have to tell you before you believe me?"

"I don't know." I chuckle. "Try another hundred times while I call Karen."

He lets go of me when I use my other hand to take my phone out, and he starts shaking.

"No. I…I don't know…I'm an inspector, for fuck's sake. Look!" He signs another Post-it Note, peels it off, and points it at me.

"Why do you keep sign?—"

"Take it." He lets go of the note, probably expecting I'll catch it, but it floats to the floor.

Jay Walking growls. He signs another note and, this time, sticks it to my forehead.

"Really?" I ask him, removing it from my face. He pulls at his hair with a shrill scream.

"Oh, for fuck's sake. Why won't it work?"

Even in desperation, he's funny. I kinda hate making him feel this way, but no matter my power, an intruder is an intruder. He's got to be dealt with.

"Why won't what work?" I'm a glutton for punishment because, despite everything, I'm still trying to understand what he's trying to accomplish with the sticky notes.

"Mind your own business," he barks at me, and I do. I lift my phone to my ear, but he slaps it out of my hand.

"You slapped me."

"I did." There's a sliver of guilt on his face as if he didn't mean to do that, which is quite funny considering he's trying to pass himself off as a person with authority.

"Why?" I ask.

"Because you were gonna call security."

"I'm supposed to call security." He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "Jay Walking, you look like a decent enough guy, except for, you know, the whole infiltrating this place and all. But I still need to alert people so they can seize you, make you pay for your crimes, if any, and all that fun stuff, okay?"

A look of disgust scrunches up his face.

"What?" I ask.

"Why are you saying all that with a smile?"

"Because I'm trying to be a nice guy."

His face tightens again, and he crosses his arms. "If you were a nice guy, you wouldn't report me."

"Ah, so you admit you're not supposed to be here."

"I said nothing of the sort."

"Look, it was fun talking to you, but…" I start to walk out, closing the door behind me. I have every intention of locking him in here so I can get Mortie and Karen myself.

"No! Wait!" he shouts and grabs my arm before I can do so.

"What?" I ask.

He stares at me for a second. Then another. I pull my hand. He growls and takes something from under his coat. A black Sharpie. He bites the cap off and puts the tip on my forearm.

And surprise, surprise, he draws his signature again.

"You can't go anywhere. You're mine," he says.

I open my mouth to question him when I feel a warmth where he's touching me. From there, it spreads to the rest of my body, leaving me slightly lightheaded.

Jay Walking lets me go.

"There. You've been signed. By the Sinister Seomyeong."

I grimace and pull my hand to my chest.

"I've been signed by the what somyong?"

Jay Walking winces. "The Sinister Seomyeong. Wait, it's the Sinister part that tripped you up? Not Seomyeong?"

"No, that part did too, but…it's just…you don't look sinister, is all." I shrug.

Jay Walking gasps.

"Excuse you! I am the most sinister. I'm a supervillain!"

I jerk back and scan him from top to bottom.

"You don't look like a supervillain. You barely look like a villain."

"Why? Because femme boys can't be supervillains? Are you a homophobe on top of being a CREEP?"

"Whoa! No, I'm not." I put my hands up. "Some of my best friends are queer."

He scoffs. "That's what homophobes say."

"But I'm not one. And I'm not saying you can't be femme and a supervillain."

"Then what?" he asks with a raised eyebrow.

"You're just…not very good at supervillaining."

"What?" His jaw drops.

"Well, you're not. You're a terrible liar. Inspector inspecting inspection stuff? I mean, come on. And what's with all the signing? Is that supposed to be your move or something? You want a good example of a supervillain? Look at The Phantom. He goes around, charges a fortune to reconnect you with your loved ones, doesn't even let you speak to them, and then leaves you high and dry."

Jay Walking grimaces.

"Gee, don't get a boner about him," he says.

"I'm not," I reply and point at my groin. Flat and undisturbed as before.

Jay Walking stares down at my groin, though if it's enough proof I don't have a boner for The Phantom and I'm not a homophobe, I'm not sure.

"Well, The Phantom is just a scam artist." After a few moments, he glances back up at me. "While I am a true villain. And if you must know, signatures aren't my thing. They're my power."

"Your power?"

"My power."

"Your power." I sigh. "Great. Love your power. Love your work. I'm still gonna go get security, you supervillain."

"You can't go," he whines as soon as I grab the doorknob and resume my previous objective.

"Why is that?" I ask.

"Because I signed you."

I look down at my arm and back to him.

"You did, indeed."

"Yeah. So you can't go get security."

"And that would be…why exactly?"

"Because I signed you. You're mine."

"I'm what?" I raise an eyebrow.

"You're mine. Well, you're supposed to be anyway."

"Supposed to be?" I ask and let go of the knob to study him closer.

He's truly a fascinating person. And I can only understand half the things that come out of his mouth.

"Well, yeah. I don't know. I've never tried it before."

"Tried what exactly?"

"Signing a person."

I hum and cross my fingers in front of my face in concentration.

"I don't think signing means what you think it means." He huffs. "So I'm just gonna go."

I grab the doorknob again and start to move away when a jolt of pain shoots through me.

"What was that?" I ask him, but I see him folded in two also.

"What did you do to me?" he asks back.

I take a step forward, and the pain eases.

"Whoa," I say. "What's going on?"

I take two steps back, and pain shoots all over both of us once more. Taking two steps forward makes it stop again.

"Stop doing that!" he shouts.

"I don't even know what I'm doing," I shout back, which is so unlike me.

"You're putting distance between us. Clearly, my signature worked, so you can't go far without me."

"Your what worked?"

Jay Walking huffs and looks at the ceiling.

"My signature. I can sign for things," he practically growls.

"Congratulations? So can I," I reply.

"No, you don't understand. My power is that I can sign for things and get what I want."

I frown.

"That's usually how signatures work. Contracts and all."

Jay Walking lifts both hands into fists in front of him and pretends to strangle me before he continues.

"I mean, I can sign anything and get whatever I want. I never pay for anything."

"That's stealing," I inform him. Did no one tell him that?

"That's supervillaining, Jack. Get with the program. I'm a supervillain."

"So when you signed me…what did you do to me?" I ask and look at my hand again. The black ink is strong and visible despite being on top of my tattoo sleeve.

"I don't know. I've never signed a person before. But since I said you can't leave and you're mine, I guess…you're stuck with me and have to do as you're told?"

"That's wrong, Jay Walking."

"Pfft," he says. "I'm a supervillain. It doesn't matter if it's wrong or not."

He might sound confident, but he doesn't look confident.

Which only drives the point home that he's most certainly not a supervillain. Or, at least, not a very good one.

"So…since you're now mine for the foreseeable future, you have to help me."

"Help you with what?" I ask.

He glances at my computer monitor, and I shake my head.

"I can't."

"But you must."

I study him for a second and consider the facts. First of all, I can't leave his perimeter without making both of us scream in pain. He's not a very good supervillain. And as soon as I see someone, I can tell them what's going on and they can help me.

"Fine. What are you looking for?" I sit at my desk and turn to him, waiting for an answer.

"Some people. Hana Bae." He spells out both names for me, and I start typing when I hear footsteps.

"Jack?" Bob enters the room, and I feel a slight tinge of hope. "Who is this?" He glances at Jay Walking and narrows his eyes. "Friend of yours?"

I open my mouth. I need to tell him he's an intruder. To run. To go get security, or anyone else, really. But whatever I'm thinking, I can't vocalize it.

It's as if the ability to speak has been snatched from me.

Jay Walking looks at me in anticipation.

"What's wrong?" Bob asks.

"I am…" I try again, but I can't say it. "I'm fine," I tell Bob instead.

Jay Walking smirks.

That must be him. His signature. Not only can I not go far from him, I also can't tattle. I can't even say I'm a prisoner.

Damn it.

I take a deep breath and look at Jay Walking. He's a little more sinister than I thought, considering he's trapped me under his spell.

Well, better me than someone else, I guess.