by Loretta Lost
Speaking of doors, there is a knock at mine—but it is not the front door of my hotel room. It’s the adjoining room that Zack is staying in. I hesitate for a moment, unwilling to coax my muscles to move and leave the comfort of this bed. Why am I so tired? But he knocks again, and I groan as I push myself up to my feet and sluggishly move along the wall. I am only wearing an oversized t-shirt, but Zack has seen me in worse, and I don’t really care. Grasping the doorknob, I slide the latch aside and unlock the door to pull it open.
Zack moves into my hotel room, and he is holding a tray of fast food. It is warm, and fresh, and it smells delicious. I look up at him questioningly.
“You haven’t eaten since yesterday,” he explains. “You’ve been running on coffee and booze.”
Is Zack one of those people I’ve been shutting out? Is he really a great guy, but I just haven’t been able to appreciate it in my self-obsessed blindness? After all, he is here. He came all this way to look out for me, and to take care of me. I realize that he has taken care of me a lot lately, and I haven’t been paying much attention. Maybe it’s even… a little understandable that he acted so crazy and hid my letters. I might have done the same thing if someone I cared about deeply was lying to me.
Okay, maybe I wouldn’t have done that—but I can understand his anxiety. He gave me so much energy and attention, and I barely gave him the time of day. I used him, didn’t I?
“Sophieee,” he says in a singsong voice, reaching for a French fry. He holds it out to my lips with a smile, as if I am a child. “You’ve gotta eat something.”
I stare at the fry, which is a classic crispy golden brown. What is it about French fries that is so irresistible and alluring? But I’ve already brushed my teeth, and I don’t think I have the energy to do it again.
“I’m really tired,” I tell him.
“Yes, because you haven’t eaten.”
Moving over to the bed, I lower myself back down onto the mattress with a sigh. “Thanks, Zack, but maybe I’ll just wait until the morning.”
Zack frowns. “No, you really need to…” He is interrupted by a loud buzzing sound, and he puts the tray down and pops the French fry into his mouth before reaching into his pocket to check his phone. “Hey, Soph? What does this mean?” He holds the screen out for me to see.
When I read the text message, I laugh softly.
Shields,
You will not find any guns in the trunk of the car that you didn’t steal.
-L
“That’s just my boss messing with me,” I explain to Zack. “She decided not to fire me after all, and she’s hooking me up with some gear to help out. She’s even throwing in a gun for you.”
“A gun?” Zack repeats, his eyes growing wide, like a puppy staring at a treat. “What kind? For me? When do I get it?”
“It’s probably there waiting now. Or at least, she’s sent it there, and she figures that by the time we can get there, it will have been delivered.”
“When can we go?” Zack asks. “Can we go now? Sophie, I haven’t held a gun in… months. It’s the only thing I’m good at. And I’m really, really good at it.”
My face softens, imagining what it must be like for Zack to be injured and out of work for so long. Having received an honorable discharge, he would be eligible to receive disability benefits from the VA if he applied, but he has been determined to find meaningful work and contribute to society. He doesn’t know that since we were set up on a blind date, by his old boss and Luciana, I kind of have been his job. They both thought it would be good for us. Zack wouldn’t leave the house at all after losing his leg, not even for physical therapy. Lucy didn’t think it was safe for me to live alone, considering my job and my history.
Maybe now that he knows, I can try to hook him up with a real job that gives him some satisfaction. Feeling a little guilty, I nod. “We’ll go first thing in the morning. I need to take a little nap.”
“Isn’t it better to move fast?” he asks. “I just wouldn’t be too happy if those guns got into the wrong hands.”
“Maybe,” I say, glancing at the French fries. A few hundred calories in the tank could keep me going for another few hours.
“Hey,” Zack says suddenly. “I got distracted by the guns, but I wanted to tell you something. I’m not upset about the marriage thing. I understand that you probably had your reasons for never telling me that you were married.”
Turning away from him, I look toward the wall. “The funeral is tomorrow, Zack. I should probably get some rest.”
“I know. I know how important Cole was to you, and… I’m so sorry I kept those letters, Sophie. I didn’t know what I was doing, and if I could go back in time…”
“That means a lot, Zack.”
“But it still hurts. I can’t help it. I just proposed to you this morning, and to learn that you’ve been married this whole time…”
“We—we got married for financial and legal reasons. It wasn’t like that. I was fifteen.”
“So, you never slept with him?” Zack asks.
I don’t respond. The silence is heavy in the room.
“Sorry, that’s none of my business,” Zack says. “But—why didn’t you ever get divorced?”
This question is even worse. I shrug. “What does it matter now? He’s dead.”
“It matters to me,” Zack says. “Because I still love you, Sophie. I just want to know you.”
“You wanna know me?” I ask, as a slow smile spreads across my face. Turning over and sitting up, I reach for the French fries and shove a handful in my mouth. They are so salty that I can feel them burning the insides of my cheeks and gums, but they are also sinfully delicious.
“Silly, Zack. If you really want to know a woman, you’ve got to meet her family. And if she doesn’t have a family… well, then you’ve got to meet her car.”
“The stolen car?” he asks me suspiciously.
“I did not steal a car,” I tell him, but I think that the smug look on my face might say otherwise. “Come on. Call me an Uber.”
“You look crazy right now,” he tells me with a headshake as he follows my command.
“I feel crazy right now,” I tell him as I pull myself off the bed and grab my purse. I am too tired to pull on my jeans, so I march to the door in my oversized t-shirt. Whatever. It’s California, and no one wears real clothes. I’ll just call this beach attire if anyone asks. I even go a step further and slide my feet into flip flops.
Flip flops.
Do you have any idea how that feels? I usually have my feet packed tightly into high heels all day, or suffocating in sweaty running shoes at the gym. But out here, on the west coast—you can get away with wearing flip flops and it’s not weird. I wiggle my toes, amazed at their freedom.
“Okay,” Zack says with a worried smile, looking up from his phone. “It’s on the way.”
“Great,” I tell him, leaving the room. “Are you coming?”
Zack lets out a low whistle as the garage door lifts.
I had to bite my lip as I punched in the code to enter Cole’s house, and discovered that it’s still my birthday. I did all this while trying very hard not to look at the actual house. I can’t bear it right now. I’m just here for the car and the guns.
“Sophie, what is this thing?” Zack asks as he ducks to step into the garage.
“It’s a Bugatti Veyron,” I explain to him proudly.
“Holy shit. I was expecting a Volkswagen Beetle or a Mini Cooper.” He steps forward cautiously, inspecting the vehicle. “I didn’t know you were such a car enthusiast!”
“I’m not,” I tell him, as I lower the garage door to lock us inside, for some privacy.
“How can anyone own a car like this and not be a car person?” Zack asks.
Smiling, I pull the car keys out of my purse and press the button to open the car. I then move to run my hand over the sleek hood of the vehicle. The paint is still as shiny as the day I first got it, and there isn’t a speck of d
ust anywhere to be seen. Cole kept it in good shape for me. “It was a gift,” I explain to Zack.
“From your brother?” he asks, a little jealous.
“No way. Cole couldn’t afford this back then.”
“Then who?” He is now at the back of the vehicle, and fiddling with the rear of the car. “And how do I open the trunk on this thing?”
My lips quirk upward at his innocence. “The trunk is at the front of the car,” I explain to him, as I pop it open. When I do, my own eyebrows lift. It’s a small trunk, but Luciana managed to pack it with goodies for me. It’s divided down the middle into two sections, like his and hers weapons closets. My side contains state-of-the-art electronics, while Zack’s side contains firearms. I can’t help feeling a little emotional at this sight; she really does care.
Zack limps over to my side and nearly trips when he sees one of the containers. He rips it out of the car and opens it up, pulling out a rifle and nearly shouting in joy.
“Are you kidding me?” Zack says as he strokes the rifle lovingly. “Are you fucking kidding me? The Mk 12 SPR! This is my baby. One of the most versatile guns I’ve ever used, that has saved my life on more than one occasion. I don’t know who you work for, Sophie, but she’s a goddess.”
“I agree… but it does seem like overkill. Does she really think we’ll need any of this?” I muse out loud.
“Who cares?” Zack asks. “Free toys! It’s like Christmas.”
It’s uplifting to see him so excited, and I am happy we made the trip tonight. I am still tired as hell, and I may have briefly napped on the way over here, but it’s worth it for this. I notice that there are at least two smaller pistols, and I pull one out to check it out.
I am a little puzzled by how many items Luciana included. I almost wonder if she knows something about Cole’s death that I don’t. Are we actually in serious trouble? If so, being at Cole’s house is a rather safe place, structurally, although it is also a very likely place for any assailants to look…
“We should probably carry these ones around,” I tell Zack, handing him a small beretta. “I don’t think you’ll have any use for the rifle, but she probably just put it in here to make you happy.”
“If only I’d had one of these babies with me when I lost my leg, instead of the heavy piece of crap I was using…” Zack quickly assembles the rifle, adding the scope and the suppressor. “God, look at this thing. Isn’t it beautiful? Do we have to give it back? I don’t care, I’m never giving it back.”
I laugh lightly at this as I give in to my own temptation to check out the sleek silver laptop that Agent Lopez left for me. I bring it close to my face, and stare at the little machine while I feel the weight carefully. Computers sure have changed since I was young, but I already know that we are going to have some fun together. Zack’s laptop is old and sluggish, and can’t keep up with the demands of my fingers. This powerhouse will do a lot better.
“Did you just smell that computer?” Zack asks me.
“Maybe,” I say softly. “There’s something special about fresh metal.”
I replace the computer and skim the other items in the trunk, retrieving a cell phone. Luciana knows that I haven’t owned one for years. It’s funny how I thought I was walking out on my job and surely going to get fired, and instead, I’ve ended up with renewed ties to my work, and even with them helping me out in a personal matter.
But is it my job, or just Luciana? It doesn’t matter. I am grateful.
Checking the beretta’s magazine for bullets, I place it in my purse, along with the cell phone. A huge yawn overtakes me, along with a wave of tiredness. Moving around the car to sit in the driver’s seat, I lean back, enjoying the feeling of being in a familiar environment. I can even recognize the smell of the car when I breathe in deeply. I run my hands over the leather, remembering the way it felt to drive this beast.
Zack enters the passenger side of the car and takes a seat, hugging his rifle to his chest. The car is pretty small, and he is a big guy, so there isn’t a lot of room for the gun, but it’s kind of adorable. “Do you want to take it for a spin?” he asks.
“Oh, no way. It’s not insured. It costs a fortune to insure this thing.” I gesture at a beat-up older car sitting further back in the garage. “That’s my car for actually driving around. The Hyundai Elantra. I’m not insane.”
“So you did steal this?” Zack asks.
“No. But it is… a trophy.” Reclining in the comfortable seat, I gaze at the stylish dashboard fondly. “There was this big shot real estate developer who was trying to screw Cole over when we were younger. It was one of his first massive projects, and the guy was going to use his designs for an entire subdivision while paying him peanuts. The jerk was established, and had lawyers who would crush Cole if he tried to complain. So I negotiated a better deal.”
“Oh, man,” Zack says, wincing. “What did you do?”
“Nothing too ridiculous. I just seduced the developer, and set some cameras up to take photos of us in compromising positions. I threatened to show the photos to his wife if he didn’t make good on his agreements with Cole, and of course, he stood to lose a lot more money in the divorce. I was feeling kind of vindictive, so I told him to throw in the car, just to add insult to injury. He signed it over to me, and I knew that we would be okay from that point on. I could sell the car if we were ever in real trouble. But we never were again. It was just one success after another, after that, so I just kept the car as a memento.”
“I see. So you got it from blackmail.”
“Negotiation,” I correct.
Zack shakes his head. “I can’t believe I’ve been living with you for so long, and I didn’t know the first thing about you. Geez. If I had known… I probably would have proposed a lot sooner.”
“Why?” I ask teasingly, running my hands over the steering wheel. “Because of my sexy Bugatti?”
“Because of your sexy brain.”
His response makes me pause. Cole used to say things like that to me. “Sometimes, I drive it anyway,” I tell him softly, as I tighten my grip on the steering wheel. “When I’m feeling really depressed or insecure, and I need a little ego boost. Insurance or not, I would take it out onto the highway, just to get that feeling. Of being free, and powerful. Of breaking the rules. It reminds me that I’m not useless.”
“Useless?” Zack asks. “Why would you think that?”
I shrug. “Cole did so much for me. He sacrificed and he suffered for me. No one ever cared like that before. I needed to know that I was an asset to him, and that I could protect him, too. This car is a symbol of that. That I was maybe worthy of him. Worthy of everything that he gave to me, because I could give back a little something, too.”
“I can’t imagine you ever feeling unworthy, Sophie.”
“It’s an abandonment thing. My parents didn’t consider me worthy enough to keep. How could anyone else? And… Cole wasn’t just anyone. He was special. He was so amazing at everything he did. Achievements came so easily to him, while I was too afraid to even make goals in the first place.”
Turning to the side, I look out of the car’s windshield at the nonexistent scenery. A halfhearted smile touches my lips.
“Zack… I really loved him.”
“I know. I can tell.”
“Wish you could’ve met him,” I say as I lean back against the car seat and pull my knees up onto the cushion, “under other circumstances than him being lowered into the ground.”
“Me too,” he says. “He must have been pretty cool if he’s this important to you. Hey, Soph, you look tired as hell. Do you want to go into Cole’s house and get some rest?”
“No!” I say a little harshly, as though stricken. I shake my head and close my eyes. “I can’t. Not ready to go in there.”
“Did you live here for a while?” Zack asks.
I nod in response.
“Well, do you want to go back to the hotel and get some sleep?” he asks, but my chin is alr
eady falling to rest against my shoulder.
Zack leans forward and places a kiss against my hair, before squeezing one of my hands. “I don’t mind sleeping in a million dollar car with you. As long as I’ve got a pistol and an Mk 12 with me, I can sleep just about anywhere.”
“One point four million,” I mumble sleepily.
“Hmph,” Zack grunts. “This car is more expensive than most of the houses I’ve slept in. It would be nice if it came with a bathroom and a kitchen, maybe a backyard with a hot tub, trampoline for the kids, and a barn for the horses. Not that we have kids or horses, but if we had a trampoline and a barn, we’d have to get some kids and horses, wouldn’t we?”
“Yeah,” I mumble, not entirely sure what he’s saying. Something about a trampoline? I like trampolines. I just have to wear a sports bra.
“For what it’s worth,” Zack says softly, “I wish that Cole was still here, Soph. I wish you could walk into that house right now and see him reading the newspaper or watching television, or whatever it is that Cole normally does. I hate to see you this sad.”
I fall asleep with an image in my mind of Cole reading the newspaper. Except he didn’t read the newspaper. He was on the newspaper. And the newspaper said he was gone.
The newspaper in my mind goes up in flames. So does the trampoline.
Waking up in cramped quarters, I feel like my whole body is stiff and aching. I reach up to rub my neck before wiping a bit of dried drool off the side of my face. Feeling a hand squeeze my shoulder, I groan and bat it away.
“Five more minutes, Zack.”
There is a low, masculine laugh. “I’m not Zack.”
My eyelids shoot open. The voice hits me like a lightning bolt to the heart, and I turn around so violently that my arm slams into the side of the steering wheel. “Cole?” I whisper.
There is a boyish grin on his face. “Thought I told you, Scar. I’m indestructible.”
“But…” In my shock, I move closer, and my elbow hits the car horn, causing a loud blaring noise to make me jump.
