Subtle Reminder

Romeo never saw his father this agitated.

The always calm and collected CEO scanned corners like expecting a jumpscare. A lifted finger silenced him before answering his question.

Instead, Maxwell gathered the staff.

"What were his test results?" His usual commanding attitude lacked confidence. Sweat beaded on his temples, his hands twitching like never before. He made up for it by brute force.

"I'm sorry, sir. I can't give you that information," the nurse said. That little defiance took her all once meeting the Maxwell Montague steamroller.

"I'm the kid's father," he barked as if he needed an introduction.

"Internal Affairs classified it, sir," another staff member reasoned. It went as well as expected. If his father glared any harder, steam might have erupted from his ears.

"I'm also a board member," Maxwell snapped to no avail.

"Even so, I can't show you what I can't access," the man lamented. "Lord Escalus ordered the highest level of classification. Not even the Church can open his files."

Romeo's knees gave out.

He never recovered from the earlier surprise visits or the drowsiness. One made his heart race, his head spinning from the other. His father's nostrils flared wide.

"What medication did he get?" he changed tactics.

His hands supported Romeo, but they were shaking, too. The always stone-cold, corporate businessman was out of his element.

"Um, iodine in pills and—"

"What for? How much?" Though his father was in his early forties, the staff could only stutter in his presence. Still, his sharp expression felt like a mask for Romeo today.

The nervous twitches, impatience, and sweating all suggested he was in big trouble.

"I—I don't know. Radiation poisoning?"

Romeo remembered the crackling scanner and his haywire senses. The medic mentioned gamma radiation but nothing else. Nobody explained what happened to him and why.

The pill's bitter and sweet taste was still on his tongue.

"He got 3 bottles in IV solution, and—"

"Who ordered it?!" Maxwell shouted, and his son almost saw the wheels turning inside his head.

"T-That is also classified."

"Is he under arrest?" The quiet, pragmatic question was full of anger. Romeo's face matched his new hair color. Why would he—? "Are the Church people downstairs here for him?"

"No, of course not, Lord Montague, they're for—"

"Good," the man sighed. "Someone remove this IV and prepare the discharge papers."

"Sir, in his condition—"

"Which is?! You've no idea, and it's classified," Maxwell fumed. "I'll find it out in my labs."

The staff gave up after the half-hearted protest.

Pulling the tiny tube out was simpler than putting it in, even without Romeo bleeding. With his dizziness, dressing took longer than printing out his documents.

"We're so sorry, sir, but we still wouldn't recommend—" It took one glance to shut the nurse up.

Romeo signed the still-warm papers, smelling of fresh ink. He took responsibility for refusing the treatment and leaving.

He had doubts, but following his father's gaze to a security camera, he trusted his silence.

"All right, we're done here."

Even if they weren't close—building his empire took all Maxwell's time—he trusted his old man. A mention of the Church and arrest was convincing too—not to mention Paris.

Those cryptic messages still haunted him, and he couldn't get answers here. Stumbling after the impatient CEO was his safest bet. The cold night air helped to clear his head, too.

As expected, the Church had armed zealots at the exit, turning heads but doing nothing to stop them.

Instead of a luxurious limousine, his father came in an old grey sedan. He also refused to hire chauffeurs like most high-ranking officials on the island.

The car was twice Romeo's age but still in pristine condition. Its only issue was that the steering wheel was on the wrong side, but his father must have gotten used to it.

Nobody else could go anywhere near the driver's seat anyway.

He only allowed his son on the passenger side once in a while.

As soon as the engine came alive, they blasted off. He expected yelling or a torrent of questions, but nothing came of it. "The labs are the other way," Romeo noted minutes later.

"Yes," Maxwell nodded, eyes on the rearview mirror, "and we're not going there." They drove in the countryside, their headlights and the full moon the only light sources.

And something else, he couldn't put his finger on.

"But you said—"

"What I wanted them to think." His father's gaze flicked to his hair for the second time since they met. "We'll have to dye it again—who saw you like this?"

"Everyone at school," Romeo blurted out, his brain stuck on the word. "Again?"

"Damn it. I didn't need this much attention." Maxwell slammed the steering wheel. The engine roared as they went over the speed limit. "That stupid brawl must have triggered it."

"Trigger what?"

He never got an answer. A blurry red circle crawled on his father's chest. It crept towards his throat. The world slowed down for the second time today.

Familiar static in his veins chased the drowsiness away.

It wasn't as intense as when he saved Julie, but he still acted on instinct. His brain couldn't keep up with his body. He shoved his father into the door harder than intended.

Why did he do that? The windshield shattered.

The boom caught up two seconds later.

A round punched through the driver's seat. One inch and Maxwell would've lost his head. Move a second later—there would have been a hole in it, not in Romeo's arm.

His brain needed a second to get up to speed. That's when his body exploded in pain.

The throbbing almost blinded him. The giant mech was still hard to miss. It leaped in front of them—back towards the pair. A follow-up shot glanced off of its leg.

An explosion rocked the car. His father got it back under control, swerving around the enormous machine. They skidded to a halt.

A devastating salvo obliterated everything where the sniper should have been.

Only moments later, a torn-off head smashed against the car's hood. It had a stranger's face, rolling off with a bloody trail. The buzzing in Romeo's temples spiked for a moment.

His focus returned to catch Paris' white teeth glistening. In a blink, he was gone.

The mech opened its hatch.

His eyes refused to stay open with the buzzing and adrenaline gone. His father survived, but Romeo's arm was in tatters. The fancy perfume still twisted his nose.

"Sorry, sorry," Lord Escalus yelled from up there. "I've been busy cleaning up my subject's crap these days, but I'm still here to protect them, as always."

"You bastard." Maxwell's voice was a distant echo as Romeo's consciousness slipped.

The faint buzzing told him that Paris must have been nearby, too, but not even that could keep him awake. The governor laughed.

"Let this serve as a subtle reminder that all the civil unrest takes valuable time away from my other duties." He paused. "Like ensuring no assassin can put his feet on Verona Island."

Even with his eyes closed, Romeo felt heat emanating from his father's seat.

The always cool-headed CEO was fuming. "If you didn't drug my son—"

"Right," another round of laughter. "Let's chat about who your 'son' actually is."