Bolo

by Mariska Hutchence

  “…mostly in Iraq.” I hear the tail end of the conversation I had stopped following a few minutes back as I step back into the living room.

  “Will this work?” I say, coming up to my toes. A little giddy, yeah, and I’m sure it looks that way to both of them. I don’t care in the least.

  “Gorgeous.” The one word seems to have a tremendous effect on Anjelica, like someone just stabbed her, or actually, like she’s just had her whole world-view altered. I secretly like it. “Let’s ride.”

  “You two have fun.” Anjelica says as I follow him out. I give her the ‘wow’ face as I close the door behind me. She looks like she’s just been punched in the face.

  Avery’s standing there waiting for me, his arm crooked at a weird angle. I look at it for a moment and realize he’s offering to take my arm. I slide in there happily, something I never would have done with any of my other boyfriends; with him, it just seems so right.

  He drives me way out into the boonies, flat land and farms, giving him a chance to open up the Charger and I feel the vibration of the big engine under me. Not my area of expertise, but it’s admittedly a thrill. Thinking about it during the quiet moments, I don’t sense any sort of showing off in his driving, simply a guy enjoying the drive. The change of pace from the city is breathtaking, and he starts to open up a little bit, first about the job at Raza, then more about himself. Every time he tries to bring the conversation back to me I steer him back in the direction I want. For the strong, dominant type, he’s pretty malleable, and I smile inside.

  “It’s not my favorite place in the world, but I’d go back if I had to.” He says. Iraq.

  “Would that ever happen?” I ask.

  “Not without a draft.” He pulls into what looks like an airstrip. There’s a dozen or so cars parked up front. “I’m hoping to get the opportunity to be just a tourist next time I leave the country, and Iraq wouldn’t even be on my list. We’re here.”

  He climbs out of the Charger and I’m close behind, wondering if we’re going to fly somewhere. Is he a pilot or something?

  An older guy, balding and dressed perfectly as a good ole boy, steps out of the dilapidated office for what must be the ‘tower’. The screen door slams shut, the screen itself hanging limp aside from a slight flutter in the wind.

  “Bolo!” He says, warmly. “Been a couple of weeks, was wondering if the city life caught up to you.”

  Avery slides into the conversation after a hug I just wasn’t expecting, making a startling transition from rugged urban bouncer to good-natured country boy. The difference is amazing.

  “Wanted to take my girl for a ride.” He says, running his fingers through his beard. “Suzanne Claremont, Saw Walker.”

  I take the offered hand. “Saw?”

  He laughs. “Long story. Sure, I got a bit. Weather’s perfect for it.” My girl doesn’t go unnoticed and I file it away, happily.

  “That’s what made me think of you.” Avery replies. It seems like I left my apartment with an entirely different guy. Shooting the shit about the weather. Priceless. The levity with which he speaks lightens my heart; it’s good to hear him relax a little. Is he really that tense around me? I can’t help but feel like I’m getting a glimpse at the real man behind the mask, though.

  Saw ducks back in the office, then returns a moment later and heads out to a beat-up looking plane on the runway.

  “Cessna 182.” Avery says. I look at him funny. “It’s a Cessna 182. Don’t judge it by its looks.”

  “Kind of like your car?” I joke.

  Avery smiles. “Yeah, exactly like that. Let me grab some gear and we’ll climb in the old girl.” He leans over and kisses me before walking into the open hangar. There’s some sort of class going on in there and several people call out to him. Again, I’m amazed. Book and cover, indeed.

  He comes back with a large bag and a harness of some sort. He drops the bag at my feet and holds the harness up to me.

  “I have to wear that?” I ask, dubious.

  “It’s a safety thing. There aren’t exactly seats.”

  That’s the truth. All gussied up an feeling a little embarrassed, this city girl’s never been on such a small plane. There’s a pilot’s seat where Saw is seated, but that’s about it. Avery throws the bag in back and climbs in, helping me up. We both sit down on the bag and Saw pulls a cord that slams the door. He waves to someone outside and they crank the prop. A little smoke blows back from the spinning blade.

  “You sure this is safe?” I ask, though I’ve never felt safer in my life as I lean into Avery, feeling the warmth of his body.

  “It’s never failed to get me to my destination.” He yells, but it’s hard to hear him over the roar of the engine as it taxis to the runway.

  It’s a little bumpy, but exhilarating when that little hint of weightlessness hits me as we lift off of the ground, climbing sharply, then banking, making me press closer into his side. He puts his arm around me as I watch the buildings of the little airport fade into a map of the countryside.

  “Where are we going?” I ask, trying to find the right level of volume and probably failing.

  He looks out the window as we bank and continue to climb. “Not far.” He laughs.

  Oddly, we just seem to be circling the airport, getting higher and higher.

  “Almost there. About five.” Saw says, yelling over his shoulder. I’m starting to get a sinking feeling.

  Avery nudges me to the side a little, then pulls another bag out of the bigger one, flipping it around to reveal another harness.

  “NO, not happening!” I say, alarmed as I finally figure out what the plan is.

  He slips his feet into the loops at the bottom, not an easy feat for a big guy in a small plane, but he manages. He looks me right in the eyes and gets close to whisper in my ear.

  “Sometimes you’ve got to allow yourself to trust someone.” The words strike me more deeply than I ever would have expected, an explosive charge planted right at the base of my defensive walls.

  Saw reaches over and checks something on the back of his rig, then gives him the thumbs-up sign. Avery is just smiling the whole time and I’m having a bit of a panic attack, just repeating the word no over and over again.

  “Put your trust in me Suzanne.” Avery says, loudly. “I will never let you come to any harm.”

  Those eyes are searching me, feeling like they’re baring my soul with their intensity. He turns me gently by the shoulders and I let go, letting him have control. I feel the harness tightening as the two of us are connected, then he kisses me on the nape of the neck and the goosebumps raise the little hairs on my arms. Funny, he’s planning on hurling me out of a plane God knows how high and a simple kiss is what gives me gooseflesh. Odd how life can turn out.

  The awkward dance to turn and face the door actually makes me laugh, distracting from my terror. I feel him slide a pair of goggles up over my hair and down to my eyes. I adjust them like they’re some sort of breathing apparatus, desperate to make sure the fit is right. He opens the door and the intensity of the wind that was downplayed by the loose seal on the door hits me, blowing my hair back into Avery’s face. I can see the grin on it in my mind.

  Tumbling terror strikes me as he suddenly lunges forward, taking me into the air with him. The rush of the air is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before; the whole body version of sticking your hand out the car window on the interstate. As the world starts making sense again, I feel his hands on the back of mine, guiding them where he wants them. It’s somehow analogous to what I want in a lover, and it’s odd that I’m thinking about that at this moment, with the etched and surreal roads on the map-like landscape below growing larger and larger. Even last night, he took charge, though he doesn’t seem to want to do that in any other aspect of…is this a relationship?

  I feel the air change and we seem to stabilize even more. I’m staring straight down and Avery does something to make us turn in a lazy circle, giving me an admittedly w
onderful three-sixty of the world below; giving me a feeling of profound clarity that oddly produces another odd thought. I had unprotected sex with him last night.

  The thought drops out of my mind just as my stomach drops out. With a lurch and a flutter, the two of us are floating in the air, pressed together, his hands reaching up for the loops I see above us. As he pulls on one, we turn lazily, the buildings of the airport slowly and surely becoming real once again. The beat of my heart has little to do with our altitude.

  Chapter Twenty-One: Avery

  Suzanne works days while I work nights; at both of my jobs. That’s all going to change soon. I’ve checked and things are right on track for my plan, though cash is a little bit short. Nothing one more job won’t fix, though. It’s the only thing I haven’t really been open with her about, and it’s been killing me all week. She seems to be more accepting of my motives, but I know there’s still hesitation in her, and I don’t want to add more doubt by keeping it from her. I’m just afraid to discuss it. I’ve been a private person for way too long, I guess. I’m keeping more than just that from her, though. I haven’t told her that I love her yet. Admittedly, it started out as a physical attraction, but I like to think of myself as being good at judging people, and with her, that rang true. The last week has been one of the best of my life. She punched me in the chest when we landed in the pea gravel following her first jump, but it was followed by the most incredible hug and kiss and was the subject of her conversation all day. Likely, it was the subject at her office and with her roommate as well.

  I get a notification from the gate. A courier delivers a sealed bundle of papers as I’m thinking about her. I sign and hand him a ten, which he seems surprised to get.

  GILROY EQUIPMENT SALES

  Cruz. He’s been using that name for years now. It’s not even like it’s a shill company or anything, just a name he uses to identify himself without identifying himself. I peel the cardboard strip from the back and pull out a small sheaf of papers, noting photographs paper-clipped throughout.

  I turn down the music with the remote and sit down at the kitchen table, wishing she was across from me again. Twenty minutes allows me to digest each page twice and I’m flipping through them again. Various affiliations, for the most part all connected to Alt-Right groups. I wouldn’t have pegged them as supremacists, but that’s not the driving factor for some. Ex-military guys sometimes get the feeling that the government gave them a bad deal, Tim McVeigh being a good example, blowing up the Murrah building in a misguided attempt to force some change. I don’t feel like I got a bad deal. Did I get a good deal? Not really, but it is what it is, right? Mack was the one bringing them in, but that doesn’t necessarily make him the ringleader. I’m guessing Colt at this point, but he might just be the top rung of the ladder that I can see. About the only thing I can do at this point is just keep an eye on them. I certainly can’t go to the police or anything even remotely like that.

  The highlight of the week was the midpoint when I went out with Suzanne to look at homes. I tried to drop hints that I wanted them to be our home; our children’s home, but I don’t know if they took. She was actually doing her job, and I could see that she’s good at it, trying to get my likes and dislikes out of me. Probably has more luck with her other clients, because I was more interested in what she thought of each one. I won’t say that there wasn’t a little activity at one of the listings that went a hair beyond our business relationship, either.

  Thinking about it makes me realize I need to take her to my other place. I know it’s silly, but it’s my Fortress of Solitude and no one else has ever crossed the threshold. Saw has a crew that keeps it up for me, but I don’t think he’s ever even been inside. I haven’t even been there in a couple of weeks, so I plan a day of restocking the pantry and the fridge. Maybe I can take her there Saturday morning; might even get Saw to loan us a couple of mares. She seemed to like it out in the country, aside from the whole terror thing. She brings a smile to my face, even when she’s not here. I run the papers through the shredder.

  Chapter Twenty-Two: Avery

  The club is packed and we’re at full staff, everyone hustling to keep up with the flow of patrons. Chase has brought in a second bartender, apparently an old friend, as well as another waitress, which didn’t make Amber too happy as it will cut into her take. Suzanne’s telling me that she’ll be there, but she’s more looking forward to being with me after, since I probably won’t get too much time with her.

  Nothing unusual is going on, though I’ll be the first to admit that I probably haven’t been on my game, due to the distractions in my life at this point. I’m standing in my normal spot, surveying the seating area and the dance floor, watching the people enjoy themselves in their chosen location, while I want to be anywhere else; or at least anywhere Suzanne is with me.

  I’ve already decided to put all of my cards on the table this weekend. One thing I learned in the military is that you need to be cautious and get all of the details straight, but once you have, you need to lay it all out and be decisive. I can tell myself that all night, but I don’t know what would happen if she went away at this point; even now I’m mostly just scanning the crowd for her. Sloppy.

  I’m just getting ready to text Suzanne when I see Anjelica. I scan around her, but don’t see her there. Thinking about approaching her to ask, I finally see her, and she’s scanning the crowd as well. She’s amazing and the week has done good for her. There’s a smile on her beautiful face, a default smile. Everyone has a default mood. Some people are default-sad and have to be made happy; while others are happy and have to have an event to change that. Sometimes things can reset that default, and I hope that it’s me. She’s dressed stunningly; no, sexily, in a dress I haven’t seen before that hugs her and shows off every delicious curve of that body. We haven’t had the chance to be together since our home tour, but I’ve already made the decision to put in my resignation after we close. A couple of weeks for Chase to find a replacement, and I’ll see if she’ll run away with me, so to speak.

  Suzanne sees me and comes over. We chat for a minute but I can tell that she’s being a little aloof, what with all the eyes in the club. I put my hand around her neck and kiss her deeply, showing her that she’s mine, or at least that’s my hope, and I don’t care who knows. I’ll put it on a billboard if that’s what it takes. Just a few more hours. I tell her that it’s okay if she doesn’t stay all night, I can either pick her up at her apartment after hours or in the morning, her choice.

  “Day or night, Avery.” She whispers in my ear. “Day or night.”

  I watch her like a hawk all night, knowing full well that I’m neglecting my actual duties a little bit. She’s become my focus and I know it; which is why the change is necessary. It’s not fair to Chase to take his money when my heart’s not in it anymore. That belongs to another now. A guy approaches her and I can feel the jealousy boiling up in me. I work to suppress it, trying to imagine the conversation. She flips him off and he turns to walk away. My body moves instinctively, plotting an intercept course as she lowers her head. I can see tears welling up, even from this distance, just from the set of her sweet face.

  “I’ll need to ask you to leave, sir.” I say, grabbing the guy by the shoulder as I steer him towards the back door.

  “What the fuck did I do?” He asks, looking at me, incredulous. I lead him to the door, and even the warm breeze outside has a cooling effect. The anger boiling up inside of me is palpable.

  “What’s the deal, man?” The guy asks, defiantly.

  “What did you say to that girl?” I ask, trying to keep myself under control.

  “What?”

  “What did you say to that girl at the table?”

  “Nothing. Just trying to pick her up. Dude, that’s what we’re all here for, right? I can’t help it if she’s a bitch.”

  I press down the sudden swell of emotions. “What did you say to her?” I repeat, as calmly as I can manage. The door is
closed but I can feel the thumping from the bass inside.

  “I told her off.” He says. “Chubby-chasers are few and far between. She isn’t in a place to be picky.”

  The blow puts him clean to the ground next to the pile of trash bags overflowing from the dumpster. I unlock the door and head back inside. I feel the buzz and pull my phone out.

  What did you do?

  Suzanne. Just escorting someone out. It’s my job. I reply.

  Because of me?

  Because of him. I send back.

  Your job is to protect the club, not me.

  I look at it and I know she’s right, but I fire back. That’s my job too.

  I don’t need your protection. There’s boundaries. Leave me alone for a bit.

  Her words shouldn’t be this devastating, and the worst part is I know that she’s right. I text Chase. Taking a break.

  The office is at least a little quieter, allowing me to calm my emotions and nurse my fist. I don’t care who you are or how tough you are. Unless it’s perfect, any time you punch someone in the face, it’s going to hurt. The only times you should be doing it, your emotions naturally make perfection an elusive target. I slump into the chair, trying to clear my thoughts, which turn to the rest of the security staff. How could I have been so lax? Pulling open the file drawer, I pull out the relevant folders. I go through Mack and Colt’s personnel files first, and there’s nothing that draws my attention. Of course there wouldn’t be, I would have noticed before now if there were red flags. I’m off my game, but I’m still fucking playing, letting the impromptu rekindling of the investigation distract me from Suzanne’s anger.

  Cal’s file is where I find it, on his original application, which is more of an HR formality than anything else. Home address. I pull up Google Maps on my phone and punch it in, already knowing the answer. I shove it in my back pocket as I’m already rising from my seat. That’s when I hear the first gunshot. The address is where I had been for the failed gun drop.