Chapter 11: Reaping the Harvest

Rhychard massaged his bicep as he waited in line at Common Grounds for his first cup of coffee of the morning, black, extra caffeinated, and hot enough to scorch the top of his mouth on the first sip. He hadn't realized he had been out of his Eight O'Clock Bean until he went to make some that morning and only then remembered he had used the last of it the morning prior. He hadn't been all that worried about it because he expected to have money that afternoon for essential things, like food. Of course, that was before Trace acted like Mr. Benevolent without asking him first. It didn't really matter, however, since Rhychard was out of anything resembling breakfast food, as well, and would need to go out, anyway. Luckily, the coffeehouse around the corner from his apartment served bagels, as well.

His arm, though healed, was still tender from Vargas's razor-sharp talons. Tryna insisted it was all in Rhychard's head as Kree's powers had never failed, while Rhychard insisted it was all in h