Broken Love

by Drake, Tabatha

  Caleb blinks at me with suspicion and her face finally falls.

  She gives me that look.

  What the hell did you do, Box?

  I tighten my arm around her and brush my lips against her forehead.

  She looks up at me now with pride, annoyance, and a bit of fear. I don’t blame her at all. Obviously, I have a plan. She’s gathered that much from my silent eyes, but she has no idea what that plan entails other than giving up the secret location of our most trusted ally.

  Not the greatest of starts.

  Then again, if Caleb and I were to adopt a motto, that’d be it.

  Lilah stops the car in front of the black gate outside of Fox and Dani’s Hollywood mansion. She glares at me through the rearview mirror and I give Caleb’s hand a decent squeeze before I get out to open it.

  The sun sits just below the horizon and I blink for a moment when I realize the time. At this time yesterday, I was imagining very, very different plans for my weekend. In the last twenty hours, I’ve stolen a quarter of a million dollars from a billionaire pervert, ran away from two assassins, flew across the country, banged my estranged wife, broke into my friend’s house, befriended a bounty hunter, avoided torture, and I’ve done it all with little on my stomach other than cheap airline pretzels and imported booze.

  Needless to say, my plans don’t usually go as anticipated.

  Let’s hope this is the one that sticks.

  I open the black gate and Lilah rolls the car inside, leaving me here to walk the rest of the driveway alone. I close the gate and scan the street outside, eying the other houselights on the street. Sure, strangers should mind their own business but a suspicious, prying eye might come in handy right now.

  I pick up my pace and make it to the car as Lilah and Elijah slowly ease up the front steps.

  “What’s the code?” Lilah asks, gazing at me over her shoulder.

  I throw open the back door to gather Caleb and hide any tells that might give me away. “Uh… 1-2-2-4-0-8.”

  Caleb manages to push herself up out of the car with some of her own strength. I breathe of sigh of relief knowing that whatever the hell Elijah did to her isn’t permanent. If this plan goes south, I may need her to back me up. She grips my jacket to keep steady and we spin around to find the twins staring at us from their spot on the stoop.

  “What?” I ask.

  “That code doesn’t work,” Lilah says.

  “It doesn’t?”

  She rolls her eyes. “No.”

  Caleb and I walk slowly up the stairs and I tap the numbers in myself.

  The panel flashes a crimson red.

  I furrow my brow. “1-2-2-4-0-8,” I say aloud as my finger taps it in slowly.

  Again, the panel flashes red.

  Elijah snatches my hand before I can type it again. “This panel wouldn’t happen to have an alarm function for multiple failures, would it?”

  I pause. “Of course not.”

  Lilah’s gun taps my cheek. “How about you get it right this time… just in case,” she warns.

  “It’s zero-seven,” Caleb says.

  I look down at her, still playing dumb. “Is it?” I ask.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Lilah pokes my cheek a little harder. “I swear to god, I will shoot one of you.”

  “Okay, okay—” I tap the numbers into the pad. “1-2-2-4-0-7.”

  The panel shines green and the door unlocks.

  “Told you,” Caleb gloats.

  I flash her a smile and adjust my arm around her as we step inside the house. Elijah flicks on the first light switch, illuminating the dark entryway, along with the foyer and front hallway.

  Caleb stays quiet as her eyes jut around, noticing the extreme lack of Dani’s presence on anything. The movie posters are gone, along with the picture frames that once littered the end tables.

  “This is Fox’s house?” Lilah asks.

  “Yep,” I answer. I lead them through to the living room and I let Caleb slip down onto the sofa next to a few throw pillows stacked by the arm.

  Lilah pauses at the photo of us in the desert and she shrugs. “Seems a little strange for his tastes…”

  “That would be the point, wouldn’t it?” I ask. “Why hide in the shadows when no one will expect you out in the open? Plus, it’s big and nice —” I pat the pillow next to Caleb’s shoulder. “Perfect for special occasions.”

  Her eyes flick up at me. I flash a smooth smile, letting my hand linger a little longer on the pillow before I step away. She slinks closer to the pillows, doing nothing to draw attention as she inches her hand beneath them.

  “Well…” Lilah lets out a thick sigh. “If this is Fox Fitzpatrick’s house then where is Fox?”

  I shrug. “Upstairs, probably.”

  “And he didn’t come running when his front door opened?” Elijah asks.

  Lilah’s nose turns upward, no doubt smelling the exact same suspicious air.

  “It’s a big house,” I say. “I’m sure Caleb comes and goes all the time, right? He’s used to it.”

  Elijah eyes Caleb for confirmation and she nods from the couch. “Well, how about you and Lilah go get him…” He steps closer to Caleb and plants the barrel of his gun against her head. “And I’ll stay here with her.”

  Rage tickles at me. Caleb with a gun to her head has never been my favorite sight in the world, but I have to keep my cool. I look at her and she gives me the most subtle of nods.

  “All right.” I gesture for Lilah to follow me. “Let’s go get Fox.”

  I head toward the stairwell, training my ears to pinpoint Archer’s location. Any creak in the floorboards would be great right now but this house is way too perfect for any flaw. Even the stairs make no noise as Lilah and I walk up them.

  She pokes her gun into my side, just to remind me it’s there.

  “Hey, Fox!” I announce as we reach the landing.

  I realize how unfamiliar I am with the layout of the place. I could go left or right, but each direction gives me about a half-dozen options for doors.

  Lilah digs her gun in a little deeper, forcing me to choose left.

  “Fox?” I ask again.

  We keep walking and I push open the first door to peek inside.

  As we pass, I feel a shadow brush through the open doorway.

  “Hey, buddy.”

  I bite my lip to keep from grinning at Archer’s horribly disguised voice and turn around to see a shotgun nestled against Lilah’s red head.

  “Is that the best American accent you can do?” I ask.

  Archer shrugs. “Sounded good in my head.” He looks at Lilah. “Hands up.”

  She slowly raises her hands, presenting her palms forward with a look of inconvenience crossing her face. “Who the hell are you?”

  “Archer Allen.” He grins with pride.

  She scoffs. “What kind of name is that?”

  His lips fall. “Give Sparky your gun.”

  “Sparky?”

  I hold out my hand. “Just do it.”

  She exhales hard and drops it into my open palm as Archer clicks a handcuff onto her wrist. He attaches the other cuff to himself, latching the two of them together.

  “Oh,” she says, rolling her eyes into the back of her skull. “You’re that Archer Allen…”

  He tilts his head. “You’ve heard of me, love?”

  “Don’t get cocky,” she quips. “Your record is far from impressive.”

  “It’s about to get a whole lot better.”

  Her lips curl. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”

  She lashes out, striking his jaw with a hard punch while simultaneously kicking my shin, bringing me down to my knees. Another quick jut of her heel knocks the gun from my grasp. She twirls around Archer, gaining enough momentum to strike him with a hard backhand.

  Archer drops his shotgun to block the blow, grabbing her fist in his palm just inches away from his face. Lilah punches with h
er free hand but he snatches that as well. He draws her closer, so close her face is only an inch from his.

  “Now, that’s enough, love—”

  Lilah head-butts him. She wiggles free enough to boost off the wall and punch Archer in the face. He tumbles to his knees and Lilah uses the moment to reach into her pocket.

  I spot the bobby pin in her hand. “Archer, the cuffs!”

  She moves with trained, expert precision and slips her hand free of the picked cuff before I can even reach the gun.

  I lunge forward to stop her, but she swings around, connecting her hard elbow against my nose. A haze of white light strikes my vision, blinding me while Lilah trips me down to the floor.

  A hard metal ring tightens around my wrist.

  I try to tug away but Archer and I are bound together in cuffs.

  Archer sits up with wide eyes. Lilah looks back over her shoulder and flashes him a wink before bolting down the stairs.

  “My god…” he whispers. “She’s amazing.”

  I try to slip my wrist free in a blind panic. “Keys, Archer!”

  He blinks out of trance and fishes into his pockets. I leap to my feet and grab the two guns off the floor as we go. We race for the stairs together while Archer tries to unlock us. My heart pounds in my chest, aching from failure as I try not to imagine what they’re doing to Caleb right now.

  We reach the bottom and the. cuff slides free of my wrist.

  “Boxcar—”

  Caleb’s voice brings me to a standstill. She’s still on the couch. Her chest rises, steady but nervous. Elijah points his gun forward at us and Lilah stands behind Caleb with a long pocketknife against her throat.

  I pass Archer’s shotgun back to him, along with Lilah’s handgun. “Don’t you dare hurt her,” I warn.

  “Not bad, Sparky,” Lilah says, “but your plan was a little sloppy.”

  “Where is Fox really?” Elijah asks.

  “He’s not here right now,” I answer.

  “Obviously,” Lilah growls, digging the knife deeper against Caleb’s neck.

  I shudder. “You don’t want to do that.”

  “I kind of do actually. I really don’t like people wasting my time…”

  Archer takes a short step closer and pumps his shotgun. “Neither do I,” he says. He gestures between them. “So, how about the two of you just come with me.”

  Elijah furrows his brow. “Who the hell is this?”

  “Bounty hunter,” Lilah mutters under her breath.

  He rolls his eyes, unimpressed. “Oh.”

  Archer steps forward again. “Oh?”

  Elijah lays his finger over his trigger. “That’s close enough,” he says.

  I reach out and lay my hand on Archer’s arm, but my eyes never leave Caleb’s. She looks so confident, even now. Even with a knife to her throat and a gun inches away from her head.

  My warrior woman.

  Her eyes twitch toward the couch, silently signaling at me to take cover as she pulls her hand free and the revolver flashes in the light.

  Caleb pulls the trigger, firing one shot at random to take the twins by surprise. Lilah ducks behind the sofa, withdrawing her knife as Caleb rolls forward onto the floor.

  I grab Archer and pull him down with me to safety as Elijah fires several rounds in our direction before pointing the gun down toward the floor, directly at my wife.

  “Caleb!” I cry, watching in slow motion as she raises her revolver.

  She fires a shot at Elijah, but he dodges in time. The bullet strikes the wall behind him as he takes cover with Lilah behind the sofa.

  Caleb can just barely push herself up, but she manages to roll over onto her stomach and slide her revolver across the wood floor toward me.

  “Cover me!” I tell Archer.

  He peeks out around his chair and fires a few rounds toward the twin’s hiding place as I rush for the revolver.

  Adrenaline pounds in my ears, fueling bravery I’ve never felt before in my life. The twins could easily get one shot off and I’d be done for. Any moment now could be my last, but I won’t let that be true for Caleb Fawn.

  I kneel beside her and she latches onto me as I pull her off the floor.

  Archer stops to reload. We all pause as the police sirens grow loud outside. Red and blue lights blink, shining through the pale, white curtains.

  “About time…” I point the revolver toward the chairs and hold Caleb in my other arm. “By the way… I lied. The door does have an alarm for multiple failures. Usually, it’s more than three in a row but I reprogrammed it so the police were alerted silently after the first failure, so technically you called the cops on yourselves. Kid stuff, really.”

  Lilah pokes her head out, staring daggers at me while Elijah does the same.

  I smile. “I’d say you have another minute tops before they come bursting in here, so you have two options. You can get arrested and spend your night trying to explain the cobra tattoos to the LAPD… or you can go with Archer.”

  Lilah stands up, refusing to back down. “And how do you expect to get out of this without them shooting you?”

  I shrug. “I’m Fox Fitzpatrick’s best friend. My presence here will get cleared up in about fifteen minutes.”

  “I’m his best friend,” Caleb argues in my ear.

  “Not the time, honey.” I hold her closer and steady my grip on the gun. “Now, what’s it gonna be?”

  Lilah seethes, her chest rising and falling with angry breaths while Elijah slinks a little further away from Archer’s shotgun.

  “Remember when you asked me why him?” Caleb says, drawing Lilah’s eyes. “This is why.”

  I smile as the sirens blare from the driveway.

  The twins stand and Elijah drops his gun on the couch. “Fine,” he says, shifting toward Archer. “Lead the way.”

  Archer grins and gestures them to start walking into the hallway.

  Lilah jerks back, reaching around Elijah to grab the shotgun’s barrel. Elijah bends over, allowing for Lilah to roll over his back and attack Archer, landing her knee in his groin. He keels over and the shotgun slips from his grasp and into Lilah’s.

  She points it at us.

  I twist around to shield Caleb from the inevitable blast.

  “Boxcar!” Caleb shouts.

  It’s so loud, my ears ring. Feet pound on the floor, passing over us as Lilah and Elijah bolt for the back of the house.

  “Goddammit—!” Archer pulls himself off the floor and follows them, keeping his head down in case another shotgun blast comes hurtling toward him.

  “Caleb—!” I look down, seeing red blood splattered on her jacket beneath me. “Oh, god. No…”

  She looks at me with wide eyes. “Boxcar, it’s not me…”

  I look at my shoulder as the pain reaches my brain. “Oh, wow.”

  “Don’t move, Box.” She tries to push my jacket aside to get a better look.

  I slip onto my side. “That really hurts,” I say, somehow surprised.

  “Bloody bastards…” Archer mutters as he bounds back into the room. “They’re gone. Run out the back.”

  “He’s been hit,” Caleb says, her voice dripping with fear. She tries to push off the floor but even every bit of her strength can’t get her up.

  Archer steps forward, but I wave my unwounded arm to stop him.

  “Go,” I say. “You can’t be here. Run.”

  He pauses, his eyes falling from me to the blood and back again with hesitation.

  “Go,” I repeat, gritting my teeth as another bolt of pain strikes my chest.

  Archer spins around with the shotgun in hand and runs for the back exit as the front door bursts open.

  Caleb cradles my face, tears shining in her deep, green eyes. I smile through the pain, knowing that she’ll be okay.

  I saved her.

  Part of me goes numb. I settle a little harder against the floor.

  “Boxcar, wait,” she says. “Stay with me.”

 
I feel her warm touch on my skin. Those hands. Those perfect hands that somehow manage to be rough and comforting at the same time.

  Her voice echoes in my head as black uniforms circle around us and my vision goes dark.

  “Boxcar!”

  Chapter 24

  Caleb

  Then

  ‘Til death do us part.

  What the hell was I thinking?

  I stare out the hotel window from a large armchair, scanning the bright horizon. It’s nothing but colorful lights for miles but I know come morning the Las Vegas Strip will lose most of its magic. The glitter and gold Botsford Plaza won’t dazzle nearly as much. Nothing ever looks as enchanting during the day than it does at night.

  My husband stirs in the bed, drawing my eyes away from the dancing lights outside.

  My husband.

  Never has a word frightened me as much as that one.

  He doesn’t wake up. He just slides around beneath the covers for a moment before settling onto his side, lightly gripping the pillow under his head.

  Husband. Wife. They never meant anything to me before. Just titles people threw around because partner sounds so dull and boring. Husband and wife carry a far heavier weight to them, like life or death.

  Death. Best-case scenario, he lives long enough to watch me die. Or I live long enough to watch him die. The former is far more likely. In a perfect world, that’s the only way a marriage ends.

  He’s already been through enough of that. I’ve already seen my fair share of it. To imagine spending my life with someone only to have them torn away from me as if they never existed. This is what people strive for? This is what poets and novelist spend their days spewing out over and over again like it’s some goddamn beautiful achievement?

  Boxcar turns onto his other side and his arm stretches out, searching for a warm body that isn’t there. It breaks my heart. I could easily walk over there right now, slide back into the bed, and he’ll feel me. He’ll pull me closer and he’ll smile in his sleep and everything will go on the way it should be. But that won’t always be the case.

  Someday, be it next year or next week or even tomorrow, he’ll reach out and I won’t be there. He’ll awaken, sit up, and realize that I’ll never slide back into his bed ever again. I’ll be gone from this world, but he’ll still be here, cursed to forever wake up alone as if I never existed at all. Just another casualty in life’s war. It happened to my father. It happened to Fox and Rhys and the rest of our unit.