The Dragon Protector

by Noah Harris

  “Where’s Ronnie? Is he okay? What’s going on?”

  “There’s some creepy guy here, at the bar. We might be wrong, but he’s shady as hell,” Lucy said quickly, and Ronnie took the phone from her, feeling emboldened by Jack’s concern for him. He imagined Jack rushing into the bar, kicking the door open, carrying him out heroically.

  “Can you come pick us up?” he asked in a hushed voice.

  “Ronnie, Jesus. What is going…yeah, I’ll be right there.” The phone clicked as he hung up, and Ronnie rubbed Lucy’s arms reassuringly. They looked around at the grimy bathroom, the stained toilet, the clogged sink. The tiles were cracked all along the walls, and the mirror was so filthy they couldn’t even see their reflections in it. Lucy whimpered.

  “I don’t want to die in here, Ronnie. It’s like a hoarder’s bathroom. Can’t we at least go outside and wait?”

  “In here has a lock, Luce.”

  “I don’t think a lock is going to stop a psycho. At least if we’re outside I can die under the stars,” she grumbled, her shoulders at her ears. Ronnie grimaced at the bathroom, then shook his head.

  “Don’t worry. He’s coming, and no one’s going to die. And the plus side is, we can tell him our plan.”

  “Well, tell him to hurry up. I think I’m going to be sick if I spend too long in here.”

  Plans at Home and Abroad

  Jack

  “So, this is your plan,” Jack said, looking grimly at the steering wheel. Frankie had brought Portia back to Anaheim Manor, checking both of them out of their rooms. A possible sighting of Perry across the street from the motel wasn’t a good sign. It was better to be back at the manor, locked-down, than it was to be at the motel without any security system. Apparently, Perry knew where they were regardless of how secretive they tried to be. It unsettled Jack, he’d thought this guy was an amateur.

  “This is our plan,” he corrected, and Lucy nodded in agreement. Jack hesitated, looking between them. It wasn’t that it wasn’t a good plan, or that Ronnie hadn’t explained it well enough, it was that Jack had had enough of Perry Johnson and the insidious evil he inflicted on others. It was time for him to go permanently.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me just to kill him?” Ronnie’s jaw dropped and he stared at Jack for a moment before facing forward and staring at the dashboard.

  “Um, is that an option? Because yes,” Lucy gasped, leaning forward. “Oh, that bastard deserves it. Ronnie, c’mon, how amazing would that be? Snap, and he’s gone.” Ronnie moaned and rubbed his face.

  “I don’t think I want that on my conscience.”

  “It wouldn’t be,” Lucy assured him. “It would be on Jack’s.” Jack looked back at her, and she shrugged semi-apologetically. “It’s true.”

  “It’s unnecessary. Lucy, you didn’t see him the other night. He’s on his way out anyway. He looked so…pale. And I’m pretty sure he’s dropped at least ten pounds. He’s probably sick, trying to settle his debts before he dies, or something.” As Ronnie spoke, Jack remembered Perry’s appearance, but more importantly, his scent. Wet newspaper and cigars and rotting meat. That hadn’t simply been Perry’s moral rot, he was dying. Cancer, probably, wasting him away from the inside.

  “Alright, I won’t kill him,” Jack reassured Ronnie, and Lucy harrumphed in the back seat. He knew where both of them were coming from, but he felt a twinge of regret behind his promise to Ronnie. He imagined Portia being in one of their places. She was about the age they’d been. Maybe it was ancient history for them, a bad dream, something they’d gotten past but still angered them in the dead of night, but for him…well, seeing Portia as the before and them as the aftermath of the abuse, it was harrowing. Wouldn’t he be letting them down, letting Ronnie down, if he didn’t take revenge, punish Perry for all the abuse he’d put Ronnie through? He’d be letting down all the kids that hadn’t had someone to protect them from the evils of people like Perry. It was like something out of a horror movie, and yet Jack couldn’t comfort Ronnie or act like he knew what had really happened.

  “Okay,” Ronnie finally said, looking up at Jack gratefully. “There’s another thing.” Jack prayed that it wasn’t anything worse than he’d already heard, but Ronnie pulled his phone out.

  “Oh, Linda! I miss her,” Lucy said, pointing at the phone, and Jack looked at it in confusion. In Ronnie’s text message history were at least seven or eight other contacts, all asking if he was okay.

  “Who are these people?”

  “They’re Perry’s other old clients. I asked them if any of them had received letters like Lucy and I did, but none of them have.”

  “Did you tell them the full extent of the situation?” Jack asked, leaning in closer to the phone.

  “Um, no, I didn’t,” Ronnie stuttered, and Jack looked up at him, feeling the back of his neck get hot.

  “Sorry,” he said, leaning back. “Well, that might be a better idea than sending that video. I don’t exactly feel comfortable with you two putting yourselves out there, like that.”

  “Did you text Travis?” Lucy asked tentatively, and Ronnie chewed his lip. “It’s not a big deal if you don’t, Ronnie. He’s toxicity embodied.”

  “This is Travis Caulfield, right?” Jack asked, remembering the last name. They both nodded solemnly. He waited for one of them to elaborate on what toxicity embodied meant, and Lucy eventually delivered.

  “Travis worked with us when we worked for Perry,” she explained, and Jack nodded.

  “I know a little bit about him,” he said, and she nodded. “He just dropped off the radar, right? You guys don’t know where he is?”

  “No, and I could not give less of a shit. He was manipulative, sneaky and jealous. One day he was our best friend, the next he was spreading nasty rumors about one of us to steal our parts.” Jack nodded thoughtfully. Could it be Travis, not Perry?

  “What kind of rumors?” he asked, and Lucy shrugged.

  “Well, one time he told the casting director that I had a ‘minor’ drug problem. Stupid shit like that,” she said, and he nodded.

  Watching Lucy and Ronnie fall silent, he came to a conclusion, Travis might have been jealous and conniving, but that didn’t mean he was capable of murder or detailed, disturbing threats like these. Lying that someone had a drug problem to steal their role wasn’t the same as threatening to butcher someone’s parents on their front lawn.

  “Well, I say good riddance,” Lucy finally murmured.

  “Just because Travis was troubled doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve a warning,” Ronnie retorted, and she sighed dramatically.

  “Whatever. Fine, we’ll tell everyone what’s going on, maybe if we have more people explaining what a piece of shit Perry is, he’ll back off. Then you won’t have to get in front of the camera,” she finished, more softly, and Jack watched Ronnie swallow a few times and then face forward. “Do you want me to send it?” Without a word, Ronnie handed his phone to her over his shoulder.

  “I think I’m going to get some sleep,” Ronnie said, his low voice sounding hollow. Jack felt himself get concerned, what was making Ronnie shut down like this? It couldn’t be Travis; it seemed like none of them had been that close.

  “Okay,” Jack said plainly, unsure of what else he could say. “Frankie will have the house locked down soon.” Ronnie nodded and curled up on the chair, tucking his knees against his chest.

  Minutes of silence passed, but it felt like hours to Jack. Lucy was sitting silently in the backseat, tapping away at Ronnie’s phone, then her own.

  Jack, though, couldn’t help but watch Ronnie when he began to snore. Light, almost unnoticeable snores, loud in his ears. He examined the freckles on his face, the way his fingers curled, and his eyelids fluttered, while he slept. He tried to remember whether he’d ever done this for Frankie, watched her sleep just because he wanted to look at her. He couldn’t think of a single time.

  “I think, once this gets handled, I’m going to leave the country,” Lucy sai
d in a whisper from the backseat. He turned around to look at her, being careful not to wake Ronnie. “I might go to Brazil or Chile. Or Croatia. Somewhere they don’t know me. Tomorrow morning, Perry’s face will probably be in all the tabloids, and I can just…disappear for a few months.” Disappear. It sounded less appealing to Jack than it usually did.

  “Croatia, huh? I have been to Brazil,” he replied. He thought of the time he’d flown out, one early morning, leaving a note on the fridge for Frankie. He had a job he couldn’t get out of, but that hadn’t exactly been true. He’d fought other mercenaries for it, simply because he needed to get out of the house. It was stifling. He’d needed the fresh air, the freedom, the solitude. At least when he traveled, the solitude was purposeful and on his own terms.

  The thought was sudden and unexpected, and it made him fall quiet. Lucy continued to talk about her plans for travel, but he found himself struggling to follow her. On his own terms. The house wasn’t stifling, nor was his family. He wasn’t stifled at all, it was his loneliness pressing in on him from all sides. The revelation made his throat burn, and he looked out the window, gritting his teeth. Nearly twenty-six years had passed since he’d been left in Clara’s care after his father passed, and he’d never realized it. But now wasn’t the time to wallow in it. He’d have plenty of time for thinking once the job was done, and Ronnie and Lucy moved on. Whatever attraction he felt toward and from Ronnie wouldn’t…couldn’t last. He looked over at Ronnie again, all the muscles in his body clenched unhappily. Nothing ever lasted, that’s how he’d gotten here, in the first place.

  “Anyway, that’s why I’m thinking I’ll settle on Chile,” she finished, tapping more aggressively on her phone. “I hate buying plane tickets,” she grumbled, and he hummed absently in agreement.

  The sun was peeking through the trees now, its rays reflecting off the hood of the car. Jack squinted at it, frowning and trying to banish the new, frustrating thoughts from his mind. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket before his car alerted him.

  “Text from Frankie J Read?”

  “Yes,” he said, and the text appeared on the screen before the car’s robotic, inhuman voice read it to him aloud.

  “Time to come home.”

  When they arrived back at Fort Anaheim, the sun was floating lazily over the trees, casting everything in a golden light. Lucy nearly fell in her scramble to get out of the car, and then sighed and smiled at the sky. Ronnie and Jack grabbed the bags.

  “I think this is a good omen. Yes,” she said, nodding wisely. “Well, boys, I’m off. The first news stories about Perry have hit the cycle, so I think it’s my time.”

  “Don’t tell me you ordered another limo,” Jack warned, and she laughed. Ronnie seemed to be in a better mood now he’d slept, but he still kept anxiously checking his phone.

  “No, no, just an Uber. Don’t worry, big guy.”

  “Well, I guess this is it,” Ronnie said, gently placing his bag on the ground. “Keep in touch, okay?”

  “You know I will, Ronnie,” she said, giving him a long hug. “You’ve always done the right thing, even if it was hard. I am proud of you, you know,” she said, taking his face in her hands. The sunshine made her hair look golden, and her lack of makeup gave her the appearance of an angel in the sun’s rays. Ronnie bit his lip and nodded, looking down, and she hugged him again. Then she released him, and she walked over to Jack. He stood there awkwardly, looking down at her. So close and lacking her heels, he realized how tiny she really was.

  “Jack. Well, I think you and I are good buddies now, right?” she asked, smiling up at him genuinely. He gave her a begrudging smile, and she grinned, hugging him around the middle.

  “Stop being so stubborn, okay? I’ll come visit soon, I want to see those marble floors.”

  “Travel safe, Lucy,” he said, patting her on the head. He wasn’t sure what she’d meant by stubborn, but regardless, she beamed at both of them and hiked her bag onto her shoulder.

  “Oh, there’s my Uber! Bye, guys!” she called, kissing her hand and reaching behind her as she skipped to the car. She got into the back seat, and then she was gone in a puff of exhaust.

  “Well, we better get inside,” Jack said, eyeing Ronnie hesitantly. He nodded tiredly and led the way, nearly dragging his bag behind him. “Do you want me to carry that?”

  “I got it,” Ronnie said, surprised. “Sorry, just a bit tired. It’s been…a lot,” he said as they climbed the steps to the door. Jack nodded and took his bag anyway, receiving a bashful smile.

  “It’ll be over soon,” Jack said strongly, and Ronnie nodded. “Portia will be happy to see you,” Jack noted, and then he pulled the door open and allowed Ronnie through. Just like that, Portia was skidding into the lobby and latching onto Ronnie.

  “You’re here!” she squealed. “That was so crazy last night. Can I show you all the pictures I took?” she asked, and Ronnie laughed, looking at Jack in amusement.

  “I’ve got your bags,” Jack said, bemused, and Portia grinned, dragging Ronnie away. Jack watched them go, Ronnie’s laughter like music to his ears. He frowned at the feeling of longing in his gut and trudged into the kitchen. He was starving.

  “Looks like you just got back from a vacation,” Frankie said with a knowing smile and a quirk of her eyebrows when she walked into the kitchen behind him. He tossed his and Ronnie’s bags on the countertop and sat down heavily on one of the stools.

  “What’s that supposed to mean? This was anything but a vacation,” Jack said, rubbing his forehead. “I like that Lucy girl, but she is exhausting.”

  “I’m not talking about Lucy,” Frankie said, fishing around in the fridge. “You want a sandwich?”

  “Frankie, what is it?” he asked, sighing. He could sense her testing whatever she wanted to say in her mind.

  “Listen, don’t get mad. We just want what’s best for you. And I think even Portia’s noticed it. I think there’s potential with…” she paused, studying him. “With Ronnie.” Jack stared at her, feeling the back of his neck prickle uncomfortably.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I think you do,” she said, and then closed the fridge slowly. She walked over to the counter and leaned across it, looking him in the eye. He scoffed and looked away. “I just think it’s something to consider, Jack.”

  “I don’t even know what…what should I consider? There’s nothing to consider,” he argued, throwing his hands up.

  “He’s only been around for a few days, but I see it from both of you. You never looked at me the way you look at him, Jack.” He shook his head, staring at the countertop, tracing the contours of the dark marble with his eyes. He tried not to think about Ronnie in the car, the way Jack had watched him simply because he couldn’t tear his eyes away. His broad, lithe shoulders slumped as he dozed, his eyelashes resting on his cheeks, his hair disheveled. “Jack,” Frankie implored.

  “This is…I don’t know what you’re talking about. This is insane. We have a job to do,” he said, standing up and stomping around her to the fridge. He pulled out some sandwich fixings and laid them on the counter, ignoring her. She tapped her foot impatiently, but he didn’t meet her eyes, laying out two slices of bread.

  “I’m just saying, Jack, think about it. Would you ever be willing to share your life again? With anybody?”

  “I do share my life,” he retorted.

  “Romantically.” He didn’t answer, pulling slices of meat out of the packaging and carefully laying them on the bread. He squirted some mustard on it and closed it up. “Don’t close yourself off like this, Jack.”

  “I’m not closing myself off,” he said. He took a bite of his sandwich and watched her stubbornly. Lucy’s words echoed in his mind, but he ignored them.

  “Portia needs to see both her parents in happy, loving relationships. I’m working on it, but you…you just close yourself up in your quarters and ignore the world, or else get lost in it and fade into the background
. You’re good at hiding, but not from me. I see you.” Frankie watched him chew for a moment and then tore the sandwich out of his hands. He moaned and sat back down. “If you have something to say to me, then say it.”

  “That’s just it, Frankie,” he said, praying she’d understand and believe him. “I don’t have anything to say. It’s not about you, or Portia. I know I’ve been letting Portia down, and I-I need to work on that. And Frankie, I’m grateful to you for sticking around. I rely on you too much to take care of Portia, and communicate for me, and take care of the house. I know that,” he said, hanging his head. It was starting to get to him, the pressure of his guilt. “I’m going to change. The past few days, I’ve done a lot of thinking. Things are going to get better.”

  Frankie pursed her lips at him and then walked closer, putting her hands on his face. He wondered, fleetingly, with a strange dread, if she was going to kiss him. She didn’t though, she kissed his forehead instead, and then embraced him. Surprised, he froze for a moment and then hugged her back.

  “You haven’t hugged me in years,” she said with a watery laugh. He frowned and hugged her tighter. “I think Portia could use more, too,” she said quietly, and he released her.

  “I know I’m not the best father,” he said, and she shook her head in protest. “Yes, I haven’t been. It was a learning curve. I never…I never experienced what parenting was supposed to be like, Frankie. I’m trying.” Her frown deepened, and she turned away soundlessly, wiping her face. As she rummaged in the fridge, pulling out ingredients for Portia’s morning smoothie, Jack stewed in his thoughts.

  For Portia, Fort Anaheim was like a protective cocoon, a safe haven. She had everything she could ever want, people to dote on her and support her and make her smoothies whenever she wanted. When he’d been growing up here…it had been like a boarding school, militaristic, lonely, parentless. Sometimes, in the dark recesses of his quarters and his mind, when he wasn’t thinking about the war, he would think about Portia’s happy upbringing and try to combat the jealousy he felt. He imagined, now, that Ronnie probably felt that same envy. Parentless, molded into something no one should have to be. But Ronnie had gotten through it and escaped that life, now he was an adult, he did what he wanted to do, learned and grew from it.