The Bulletproof Boy

by Loretta Lost

  “Zack is already waiting inside the safe house,” Luciana tells us. “You still want him on as your security detail, right? I highly recommend keeping him. Bodyguards are always better when they actually care whether you live or die.”

  “Oh, shit!” Scarlett says, blinking. “Yes, I want him to stay on, but I didn’t know he was already here. Lucy! Do we have to do this right now?”

  “Of course,” Luciana says, rubbing her hands together. “This job is so depressing. So many people are dead, and we’re always in danger. I had to orchestrate some romantic drama to keep myself entertained.” She grips the steering wheel with excitement and dances a little with her shoulders when she says ‘romantic drama.’

  Scarlett growls audibly as she slams the screen of her laptop down. She grabs her purse before stepping out of the car heavily. “This is why we never hang out, Agent Lopez! You’re always doing shit like this, getting involved in my personal life, encouraging me to get a boyfriend, setting me up with guys until I give up and pick one, constantly pestering me with questions about my sex life. What is wrong with you? Do you have no life of your own, and have to get your rocks off by messing with mine? And by always making things more complicated!”

  Luciana begins to respond, but Scarlett has already slammed the car door shut and is walking toward the house. I see Luciana’s shoulders sag, and I feel bad for her. But she turns off the vehicle, and in the next moment, she is opening her car door and yelling right back at Scarlett.

  “Do you realize that every single thing you just accused me of doing is just normal shit that girlfriends actually do? What’s your damage, Shields? Have you never had a friend in your life? Do you hate women? I get it, girls are complicated. Men are easy to manipulate, because they’ll basically do anything for you in order to get laid, until they either give up and move onto the next girl, or get a little taste and keep trying forever. Do you not know how to have a friend without sex involved? Do you not see that our relationship isn’t purely about money, and the fact that I’m your boss, and want you to stay alive, but I actually think you’re really cool and give a shit about you?”

  Scarlett pauses and turns around, with surprise in her eyes. Her lips, as usual, are expressionless. “We have work to do,” she announces to us both, with narrowed eyes.

  Luciana sighs and begins following her, and I follow suit.

  Suddenly, Scarlett turns around with a frown. “I give a shit about you, too,” she tells Luciana, before ringing the doorbell.

  I notice that Luciana pauses for a moment, surprised by Scarlett’s admission. Then she briefly turns back to me and flashes a quick, excited thumbs up on both hands with a giant, goofy smile. It’s gone a second later, and I have to bite my lip very hard to keep from bursting out in laughter and betraying her.

  I like this girl. I don’t know a lot of women who have the balls to even try to keep up with my Scarlett. That friendship item on the list seemed almost impossible to achieve until Lucy dropped into our laps. Although, I do worry about whether she could handle every aspect of Scarlett. Would she freak out if we got into some sort of bad situation, and she happened to meet Snow? Although, Snow has matured a lot, over the years. The first time I met her, she was ripping apart a man’s neck with her teeth. Snow only existed for a few reasons: sex and fighting, more sex, and more fighting. But now, these days, she can actually stick around long enough for us to have a conversation.

  So, if she had to kill someone with her teeth, she might be more polite and friendly afterwards.

  That’s character growth, if you ask me.

  When the door is ripped open by a very large man, he reaches out to hug Scarlett at once. He holds her a little too long, a little too tightly, and I find myself sizing him up. I try to stop, but it’s just human nature. I want to say something, or step in, or clear my throat, but I feel a little… guilty.

  He was obviously worried about her. He’s spent a lot more time embracing her in recent years than I have, so maybe this will be good for her. Comforting.

  “Soph, I thought you were dead,” he says softly. “I called and I called, but I couldn’t reach you. Don’t ever do that to me again. I was so fucking worried! You should have taken me with you.”

  “I’m sorry,” she says, pulling away awkwardly. “Hey, let’s go inside and talk.”

  As we all move into the confines of the atrociously designed house that is just as hideous on the inside as it is on the outside, Zack turns and begins to appraise me. I move forward, meeting his gaze, and shut the door behind us all.

  “Zack,” Scarlett says, “I’d like you to meet my brother, Cole.”

  I clear my throat slightly. I try to stop myself, but I can’t help it.

  “Okay,” she says with a roll of her eyes. “My ex-foster brother, Cole. Who is also my dead husband.”

  “Hey, man,” I say, stepping forward to shake his hand. I try to use a firm grip, not too threatening, with a friendly smile.

  “So, you’re Cole,” Zack says, returning the handshake. He makes the face you can only make when you are being forced to shake the hand of the guy who is stealing your woman away—when actually, she never belonged to you in the first place. “You could have mentioned that you were already married to her when I called you on the phone and asked for your permission to marry her myself.”

  I chew on my lip, thinking of how to respond. Scarlett has gone to sit down on the nearest sofa and has already returned to hacking. She is ignoring us. I clear my throat again. “Well, I certainly could have mentioned that, but I didn’t want to deter you from trying in case she really did want to marry you. I hadn’t heard from her in a little while, and she didn’t seem to be receiving the letters I wrote her—so we didn’t have much in the way of communicating with each other.”

  Zack pauses, as if considering his next chess move. “I apologize for that. It was very low and insecure on my part. But you need to understand, Sophie is my girlfriend…”

  “Was your girlfriend,” she corrects from her chair as her fingers fly across the keyboard.

  “And I made a mistake,” Zack says, “which has made her understandably upset with me. But I intend to try my best to be a good man, a good friend, and win her back.”

  Oh, really. Buddy, don’t even try. I am reaching for my non-existent gauntlets and sword to challenge him to a duel when Scarlett speaks up.

  “I’m with Cole, now, Zack. He’s my boyfriend.” She doesn’t even pause in her typing to say this.

  “What the hell? Sophie, you can’t punish me like this. I know I screwed up—”

  She looks up suddenly. “Wait—Cole, you are my boyfriend now, right?”

  “Yes! I thought that was very clear,” I tell her with a laugh.

  “Okay,” she says, returning to typing.

  “Very clear?” Zack asks, taking a step closer to me. “Very clear? Why is it very clear!”

  “Well,” I say, thinking of how to explain. “She found this letter I wrote her when I was fifteen which outlined my plan for our future together, which I intended to conceal until I felt she was ready. We never really seriously gave it a chance, but we’re trying now. Especially since I got shot and nearly died, we’ve had a real wake-up call and talked in detail about our issues. I think ultimately, we’ve both grown up a lot, and we’re going to try to be together.”

  “You fucked her, didn’t you.”

  “Guys, this is so entertaining,” Luciana says, clapping excitedly. “I love excessive displays of masculine bravado. Are you going to beat each other up now?” She snaps her fingers. “Damn, I knew I should have sold some tickets and taken bets. At least get out rulers and measure the diameter of your balls. Let me get popcorn real fast.”

  “Wait,” Scarlett says, lifting her head from her computer. “What did I miss?”

  “Don’t worry, hun. Your boyfriends are just figuring out who has the bigger dick and the bigger claim on you. But they don’t need to measure, do they? You can just tell us?
Everyone in the room is wondering, don’t keep us in suspense.”

  Scarlett makes a face of disgust. “People are getting murdered, guys.” She stretches out her fingers, which seem to be getting sore. “Does anyone have a nail clipper or a sharp knife? I’ve been typing so much that my nails are starting to feel really heavy and difficult to move. I only have a few long nails that haven’t already broken off… Actually, forget it. We have shit to do. Zack, do you know a Jeremy Brown?”

  “I’ve heard that name. Oh, shit. From Afghanistan?”

  “We think he’s the one who shot Cole.”

  “With a sniper rifle?” Zack scoffs. “I wouldn’t have missed.”

  “Zack!” Scarlett says in dismay.

  “No, no,” Zack says, lifting his hands. “I don’t mean I want to kill Cole. Definitely not with a sniper rifle. Or any type of rifle! Or like, at all. Seriously. I just meant that I’m a good shot, and Jeremy Brown sucks ass.”

  “Okay. Well, Jeremy, Brittany’s brother, received a large sum of money deposited to his bank account recently. I can’t trace where it comes from. Like, it’s rerouted through several different offshore accounts. I wouldn’t say it’s completely untraceable, but... it’s taking me a while. It’s also... it’s divided into thousands of smaller sums? That are then divided into even smaller sums? What the fuck is this sorcery! Someone is really good at hiding money trails.”

  “What does that mean?” Zack asks.

  “I don’t know yet. It’s easier to see what he did with the money. Ohhhh, shit.”

  Scarlett falls back on the sofa, making a guttural groan.

  “What’s wrong?” Luciana asks, suddenly all business.

  “He hired an architect to design a special mausoleum for his mother and father.”

  “Oh,” I say quietly. “Oh, no. Oh, crap. Crap, crap.”

  “And he only hired that architect after Cole refused.”

  “I didn’t even know who was asking for that project! I look at the project profile, not the developers, most of the time. We’re booked solid for years! We also have to prioritize our own developments. We don’t have time for petty personal sculptures when the world’s population is massively exploding, and there are people everywhere in need of decent places to live for decent prices.”

  “Dude, we killed his dad. Then you refused to build him a mausoleum.”

  “And is that a good reason to try to put a bullet in my head?” I ask her.

  “No, of course not,” she says, sighing. “But that might not be the reason, either. He could have received that money as an advance payment for killing you. Or attempting to kill you.” She sits back up and leans forward, gazing at her laptop closely. “What if a pissed off competitor didn’t actually want you dead, and just wanted you broken? Poison him almost to death. Shoot him almost to death. Make him need a vacation. Scare him away, so I can pick up some of his market share. Does this sound crazy? I think there are people out there who would prefer to watch someone suffer forever than die.”

  “That’s a really sexy theory,” Luciana says. “I like it.”

  Zack clucks his tongue. “Except for the fact that Jeremy Brown can’t shoot for shit, and if he was trying to almost kill anyone, he’d probably actually kill them—or kill someone standing ten feet away from them.”

  “I think someone should check out the architect’s office. M. Williams Flawless Design,” Scarlett says.

  A little burst of mocking laughter comes out of my throat. “Flawless. I hardly think so.”

  “You know them?” Scarlett asks.

  “One of the worst firms in the city,” I tell her. “They don’t get much work, but the stuff I’ve seen them do looks worse than this house. I should probably go and check out their offices.”

  “Go with Detective Rodriguez,” Luciana suggests, reaching for a suitcase and pulling out some facial hair and prosthetics. “He will be here shortly. But you’ll have to wear one of these disguises, because I doubt there’s an architect in this city that doesn’t recognize you. Or hate you.”

  “Looks like fun,” I say, grabbing some crazy facial hair.

  Scarlett shuts her computer. “Okay. In the meantime, I’m going to check out this mausoleum. Anyone wanna come?”

  “You don’t have to do any field work, Shields,” Luciana reminds me with a frown. “I can go with Zack, or take other agents if necessary. You figure out where we need to go, and we’ll send people while you stay safe and cozy in the safe house. Deal?”

  “Is this because of my sunburn?” Scarlett asks, itching at it.

  “That’s a sunburn?” Zack comments. “I thought someone dropped you in acid.”

  Scarlett sends him an unimpressed look. “I can handle myself out in the big bad world. Besides, this one is personal. How often do you get to spit on the grave of someone who used your body as an ashtray when you were thirteen? I think I’ll bring champagne.”

  I hesitate. I don’t know how I feel about splitting up with Scarlett, but I do know that I would be more useful at the architect’s office.

  “Do you want me to come with you?” I ask her.

  Luciana clears her throat. “I don’t think either of you should leave this safe house.”

  “That would be boring,” Scarlett says. “Cole, I’ll be fine. Zack will come along and keep me safe. You go with Little Ricky.”

  “He doesn’t like being called that anymore,” I tell her.

  “Well, I doubt there will be much action at an architect’s office or a mausoleum,” Luciana says. “I guess it’s not that dangerous for you guys to help out. I already told that detective of yours to start looking for Jeremy Brown in addition to Brittany Brown, so hopefully his team is all over that. Shields, can you find a single-most likely origin country for those funds?”

  Scarlett frowns deeply. “I’m sorry, Lopez. It really looks like the money just came from… everywhere. I don’t see any other recent purchases other than the checks for M. Williams Flawless Design. There are some cash deposits though. Bet you guys fifty bucks there’s cash sealed away in the mausoleum.”

  “I’ll take that bet,” Luciana says. “Fifty bucks on drugs or illegal firearms. We need to be careful—it could be booby trapped or something. Anything that’s easily found is dangerous—it might just be waiting to be found. They might actually be finding us, without our knowledge.”

  “Well, that’s ominous,” Zack says as he heads to the door. “But I’m ready.”

  “We don’t have to go right this instant,” Luciana tells him. “We could strategize a little—”

  The doorbell rings at that moment, and Zack pulls his handgun out of his belt. He carefully checks the peephole before lowering his weapon and opening the door.

  “Hey, it’s a party!” Detective Rodriguez says, opening his arms. “I should have brought beer and pretzels. Knew you weren’t serious about staying dead, Hunter.”

  “He was,” Scarlett tells the detective. “He is. He just came here because we had some loose ends to tie up.”

  “Roddy... how did Anna die?” I immediately ask my old friend.

  The smile disappears from his face and his expression falls. That tells me everything I need to know. This man can stand over a dead body while drinking a peppermint mocha latte, eating a festive donut, and cracking jokes. It must have been really bad if he’s giving me that look.

  “Well, let’s just focus on catching her killer,” I say without waiting for a response, while walking out the door toward his police cruiser.

  Scarlett exits behind me, and I hear her tease the detective. “Hi, Little Ricky.”

  He groans. “You told her, man? Everyone needs to forget that nickname forever.”

  “Strange,” Luciana says as she walks out behind us, studying Rodriguez carefully. “You don’t seem little to me.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “She walked for how long?” Rodriguez asks, turning to me in shock.

  “Nearly twenty-four hours. Focus on the
road, man.”

  The detective turns back to look at the street as we drive through the city. “I can’t believe she found you.”

  Nodding, I stare out the window at the familiar buildings. “I had a feeling she would.”

  “I grossly underestimated her,” the detective says as he makes a right turn that causes the car’s tires to squeal. “That was foolish of me. She is the same girl who broke us out of prison, after all.”

  “She is indeed.”

  “I guess when you said she was getting married to someone else… I thought she’d changed.”

  “Yeah, Roddy. I thought so, too.”

  “She was so loyal to you back then. There’s no way that girl would go off and marry someone else.”

  “It turns out she never planned to. I had bad information.”

  “Good,” Rodriguez says. “Because if you two split up, after everything you’ve been through together—there isn’t a couple alive who has a chance.”

  I look at him quizzically. “Are you a romantic, Roddy? Underneath that hard exterior?”

  He shakes his head and rolls his eyes, as if that’s not possible. “I just wanted my roommate from juvie to live happily ever after with the girl of his dreams. Is that too much to ask?”

  I find myself grinning at this answer. He’s totally a romantic.

  “Forgive me for asking,” Rodriguez says in a low voice. “But what happened between you two? You were kind of vague about it before. What could you have done to scare away someone who loves you that much?”

  Leaning back against the headrest with a sigh, I close my eyes. “Some other time, buddy. It’s still kind of fresh, and I still… don’t know if I can fix it.”

  We drive in silence for a few more minutes as he navigates us to the architect’s office. I chew on my lip, thinking about Annabelle. Thinking about my job. The life I’ve left behind.