Chapter Twenty-Two
"It's hard to tell who has your back, from who has it long enough just to stab you in it...."
– Nicole Richie
Annie's P.O.V.
Slowly, he blinked open his eyes, squinting against the harsh light. A groan escaped his chapped lips as he brought a tentative hand up to caress the bump on the back of his head. With a bump like that, I knew his vision was probably blurry and his head must have hurt like hell. Good. I chuckled a little, remembering the way Mist had roundhouse kicked him in the back of the head.
Without his mask, the super villain in front of me looked a lot less threatening. He also looked a lot younger. Two paper-thin cuts sliced his cheeks like war paint and his black hair was plastered to his forehead, sticky from sweat. A large tear in his smoky spande
