by Kylie Parker
A few minutes after 11pm that night, Bruce parked the large SUV on the right side of the road, less than twenty yards away from the apartment building. Strangely enough, five Latinos had gathered on the pavement, talking loudly to each other, sounding intoxicated.
“Great.” Matt groaned. “The Mexicans are having a party.”
“Nah.” Bruce disagreed. “They’ll be out of here soon. How does it feel?”
“I’ve missed it, kind of.” Matt confessed. “You know what they say. It’s not the kill…”
“I know. It’s the thrill of the chase.” Bruce finished his sentence. “I’ve not. If I had, I’d still be doing it.”
“That chick Julia looked hot.” Matt remarked. “Do you think I should…” He faltered. “Ask her out?”
“Go ahead.” Bruce encouraged. “You should know that she’s hiding something, though.”
“What?” Suddenly, Matt’s voice became high-pitched.
“You heard me. She was pretty upset when I told her to do this herself. I don’t know.” Bruce shrugged his shoulders. At that moment, the Latinos crossed the street, heading towards a van on the left. The tallest of them opened the driver’s door and within seconds, they left the small neighborhood.
“It’s time.” Bruce murmured, as he put on a black, ski mask. Matt did the same, before picking up a small, black case of tools from the car floor. The two friends exited the SUV. They quickly walked towards the apartment building entry door and climbed the five steps that led to it. Bruce kept looking around them, while Matt put his right hand into his bag, searching for the right tool. They stopped outside the beige, old entry door. Matt sat on his knees and pulled out a small screwdriver and tweezers. Bruce turned his back to him, took three steps towards the top landing of the small staircase and started looking right and left. He was rushed with adrenaline, but, for some reason that he could not explain, Bruce felt more anxious than he had ever been. In fact, he was so tense that only seconds after Matt had began to work on the lock, a drop of sweat rolled down his forehead.
The clicking sound of the door opening drew his attention. He averted his gaze from the road and flipped around, as Matt pushed it further open. Bruce’s friend arose to his thin, 6’1” figure and walked into the building. They pulled their flashlights out of their pockets and turned them on, almost at the same time. Tiptoeing, they made their way towards the stairs on the right. Bruce passed by Matt, as they climbed them. He stopped at the top landing and pointed his flashlight to the left. The light landed on the door closest to them; the number “4” was on it and there were three more doors down the corridor. Bruce then pointed his flashlight to the right. Apartment No. 6 was the second door to the right, twenty feet away from them. There was an elevator between the two corridors.
They ran towards the brown, wooden door, pointing their flashlights at it. Matt pulled the screwdriver and the tweezers out of the left pocket of his pants, as Bruce fixed his gaze on the staircase to the left. Matt began to pick on the lock, but, twenty seconds later, the sound of a door opening and shutting upstairs forced him to stop. The staircase light was lit.
“Fuck!” Matt whispered. “What do we do now?”
“Wait.” Bruce spoke in a low tone, grabbing him by the wrist, as the sound of high heels, click clacking on the white, marble floor echoed in the building. Bruce sighed in relief, as he heard the elevator door being pulled open. He let go of Matt’s wrist, feeling his heart still pounding in his chest. The staircase light went out, as two more drops of sweat rolled down Bruce’s forehead. He looked away from the staircase and down at the lock. Matt gave the tweezers one last flick with his finger, before the door clicked. He gently pushed it open. Finding themselves in the living room of the small apartment, they raised their flashlights. Bruce spotted an open, bedroom door, at the beginning of a corridor to the right. Not wasting any time, he rushed towards it. There was a desk in front of the far wall of the room, with a large, open window over it. Bruce kicked away the executive chair and sat on his knees. Pointing his flashlight down at the top drawer, he opened it, as Matt entered the room. He noticed a dresser to the right and walked up to it. Bruce pulled quite a few papers out of the drawer, before spotting a small, blue, velveteen box in the upper right corner. He put his flashlight on the desk and took it in his hands. Slowly opening it, he saw the worn, but beautiful name pendant that Julia wanted him to find. He picked it up and slowly turned around, holding it in the air.
“I got it!” He whispered. Just when Matt turned his head to the left, the distinctive sound of a gun cocking got Bruce’s attention. He grabbed his flashlight from the drawer and pointed it upward. A large, stocky Latino, with a gun in his right hand, was standing at the front door. Afraid for his life, he had no choice. Bruce flipped around, holding his breath. He put his right hand on the edge of the desk and violently pushed it to the left. A big step forward brought him closer to the open window. Bruce pushed one leg over the ledge of the window. His leg muscles strained, as he stretched his leg straight. Then, he curved it over the window sill, staring at the row of parked cars by the pavement. A large, black sedan was right below him. Holding both hands along the side of the wall, he turned to his side and bent his back to fit under the window. He raised his knees and brought his other leg over the window sill, until both of his legs dangled over the edge. Bruce shut his eyes and pushed off. The loud, banging sound that his large body made rocked the quiet neighborhood. He landed hard on his right side and on the roof of the black sedan, letting out a cry of pain. Matt sprinted across the room and jumped recklessly out of the window. He landed flat and hard on his back, on the hood of a small, green Toyota. His scream of pain was even louder than Bruce’s.
Knowing that the Latino would definitely fire at them, Bruce rolled onto the roof of the sedan. As soon as he fell on the pavement, a bullet was lodged into the rear right door of the car, an inch below the handle. He bounced up, looking at Matt who had rolled off the hood of the Toyota and was lying in the narrow space between the two vehicles. One more bullet hissed past his left ear, as he sprinted along the pavement. Bruce realized that the shooter would not miss for the second time. If he stopped on the pavement and crawled towards Matt, he would give the Latino more than enough time to aim well. So, six feet before the gap between the two cars, he literally jumped into it. He bumped his head against the right taillight panel and his left arm against the rear bumper, but this was a much smoother impact than the one that he had just survived.
“Matt!” He cried, grabbing him by the collar of his t-shirt. “Matt, are you ok?”
“Oh shit, man.” Matt gasped, squeezing his eyes shut. “My back hurts.”
“Get up!” Bruce yelled again, pulling him towards him. He raised his head and glanced to the left. Their car was less than twenty feet away. Coughing, Matt put his right hand down on the road.
“Can you walk?” Bruce asked, returning his gaze to him. Matt nodded.
“Forget about it. I’ll go get the car.” He muttered. Then, Bruce jumped up, moved around and started running towards the large SUV. Before getting there, he pulled a keychain out of the right pocket of his pants, which contained a keypad and the car key. He pressed the “unlock” button on the keypad. Bruce opened the driver’s door in a hurry, feeling overwhelmed by tension. He was drenched in sweat. He put the key in the ignition and the big engine of the Cherokee roared, before he drove off. Bruce put his foot hard down on the gas, but before long, he stepped on the brakes, stopping just next to the spot where Matt was. He leaned towards the passenger door and opened it. Matt lifted his right arm and put it on the seat and then the left. Bruce grabbed one loophole of his jeans to pull him closer to him, as the sound of the entry door slamming shut was heard. He couldn’t wait any longer. With Matt lying across the passenger seat, he stepped on the gas even harder. All four tires of the car squeaked and picked up smoke. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the Latino standing on the pavement, pointing the gun at him as he dro
ve past.
“Shit!” He yelled, instinctively ducking, a split second before a bullet shattered his window. One more bullet shattered the right taillight and one more was lodged into the bumper. The powerful vehicle sped down the road. Bruce saw a red light, a few hundred feet away from them. However, he was so rushed with adrenaline that he wasn’t thinking anymore. He kept his foot on the gas and ran the red light. Luckily for him and Matt, there was no oncoming traffic on the intersecting road. Bruce checked his rearview mirror. Nobody was behind them. He heaved a deep sigh of relief, as he lay back in his seat.
“Are you ok, brother?” He asked.
“I don’t know about you, man.” Matt said, looking up at him with blurry eyes. “But I think we got to do this more often.”
Averting his eyes from the road ahead, Bruce looked down at him. His feet were still dangling out of the open passenger door. He gently put his foot on the brakes, as he pulled over on the right side of the road. Happy to have made it out of the Latinos’ apartment alive, Bruce couldn’t help but burst into loud laughter. He leaned forward, banging his hands against the steering wheel.
“Oh, man.” He chuckled. “Get your ass back in the car, you moron.”
“Come on, Big Bruce! Don’t tell me that wasn’t fun!” Matt continued, pulling his legs inside the car.
“Whatever.” Bruce giggled. “Hold on. I need to call Julia.” He stated, taking his cell phone out of his pocket.
“Hello?”
“It’s me. We got it.”
“That’s great news!” She cheered. “Listen, I know it’s late, but can I come pick it up?”
“Yeah, sure. See you later.”
18
The two friends checked each other for injuries, as soon as they returned to their hotel suite. They were badly bruised; especially Matt, but, other than that, they were in good physical condition. Bruce took a quick shower and stepped out on the balcony, with a bottle of beer in his hands, whereas Matt lay in the couch and turned on the TV, still too tense to go to bed. Finally alone, he had an ideal chance to relax and think about Melissa.
“Hey, sweetheart. It’s me. I cheated death tonight. Damn, that was a close call. But, we did it. I hope what you said in that letter is true. God, I wish you were here. I’d really love it if you were in my arms tonight. Listen to the waves, drink some wine…”
The doorbell snapped him out of his thoughts. It was Julia. As soon as he answered the door, she wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek.
“Thank you.” She whispered. “That pendant means a lot to me.”
“Well, you should be thanking us.” He remarked. “We almost got killed tonight.”
“What?!” She exclaimed, leaning back.
“Yeah, the Mexicans weren’t happy to see us. Well, one of them at least.” Bruce elaborated. “Care for a drink?”
“No, thanks. I’m good.” Julia smiled. “Where is it?”
“On the balcony. Follow me.” Bruce winked at her. Proud of himself that he had done what she had requested, he smiled to himself, as he picked it up from the small table.
“Here.” He said, handing the box over to her.
“Oh, my God.” She whispered, opening the box. “Thank you so much.”
“I hope your partner’s insurance covers bullet holes.” Bruce laughed. “The driver window is broken, too.”
“Don’t worry about Jeffrey. I’ll talk to him.” Julia stated. “I’m sorry I put you guys in danger. Melissa will cut my head off me if she finds out.”
“Why me, Ms. Heath?” He smirked at her. “You could have asked a local thug to do it. Why didn’t you do that? Would it cost too much?”
Right away, it became clear to Bruce that his questions put her in a difficult position. Her smile was wiped off her face. Julia turned her gaze to the sea and took a few, slow steps towards the edge of the balcony.
“I got priors.” She confessed with a deep, heavy sigh. “I don’t have a PI license. I couldn’t get one. Jeffrey does. Technically…” She paused and turned to him. “I work for him.”
“Priors?” He wondered. “What did you do?”
“I used to be a cat burglar.” Julia spoke in a firm tone. “One of the best in the State. But, I got arrested three years ago. I’m still on parole.”
“I’ll be damned.” Bruce laughed, shaking his head sideways. “Does Melissa know about this?”
“Of course she does.” She replied.
“Why didn’t she say anything about you?” He interjected one more question. “I mean, you said you were close.”
“I had a feeling you’d ask me that.” Julia claimed. “We spent two hours on the phone this morning, talking about you. Bruce, you guys went out for what, three days? Do you really think that she would talk about her outlaw cousin?”
“Why shouldn’t she?” Bruce wouldn’t let up.
“Because she wasn’t thinking about anything else other than you.” She spoke in a calm, steady tone. “I’ve known Melissa all my life. She’s never, ever sounded so happy.”
“Ok, call her.” He urged.
“What?” Her voice got high-pitched.
“I said call her.” Bruce insisted.
“It’s half past midnight!” Julia exclaimed.
“Do it.” He commanded.
“Fine.” She reluctantly agreed. Julia then pulled her cell phone out of her purse and obliged him.
“Yeah?” Melissa answered her phone with a raspy voice.
“Hey, girl. It’s Julia. Sorry to wake you. It looks like your boyfriend doesn’t believe me. Can you talk to him?”
“It’s ok. Bruce is there with you?”
“Yeah.”
Julia approached Bruce and handed her phone over to him. He glanced at her and then at the screen of the device, regretting that he ever doubted her. Bruce squeezed his lips, as he took the cell phone in his hand.
“Melissa? Is that you?”
“Heyyy!” She sang. “How are you? Is everything ok?”
“Yeah. What about you?”
“I miss you, baby.” Her response put a smile on his face.
“I miss you, too. Go back to sleep. I’m sorry about this. Goodnight.”
“Sweet dreams.”
“Damn it.” Bruce hummed. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“If it makes you feel any better, I’d probably do the same.” Julia claimed. “Remember what I said to you this morning?”
“Which part?”
“That Melissa told me everything.” She said. “About you, your MC, your past… Everything. Ok, maybe she shouldn’t have, but you’ve become her favorite topic. I can’t blame her.”
“And?”
“And if you want my opinion…” Julia drew in a deep breath. “You should go get her. She’s not happy. Honestly? I don’t think she ever will be.”
“She asked me to leave!” Bruce cried.
“Yeah, because she wanted to protect you!” She replied. “Look.” She sucked in yet another deep breath. “Just think about it, ok?”
“I’ve been racking my brain to come up with a solution, Julia.” Bruce said with a sigh. “Every possible scenario ends with me getting killed or hurting people. She doesn’t want that. Neither do I.”
“How the hell did you do it?” She asked, stunning him. Bruce had no idea what she was talking about.
“Do what?”
“She’s in love with you. How did you get her to fall in love with you so fast?” Julia wondered.
“I don’t know.” Bruce shrugged his shoulders. “Everything happened really fast.”
“Anyway, thanks again. I should get going.” She said.
“Please don’t go just yet.” He requested. “You said you guys grew up together. I’d like to hear a story. Any story would do.”
“Well, here’s one reason why she fell in love with you.” A big smile spread across her face. “You’re a good talker. Maybe some other time, though? Jeffrey’s on his way ov
er. He’ll be in the parking lot; in case you need anything. Go get some sleep. Goodnight.”
As much as Bruce wanted to hear a story from Melissa’s childhood, he would not press Julia any further. She seemed tired; exhausted even. The adrenaline rush had faded; he could hardly keep his eyes open. Joe Sanders’ plan to rob the three armored trucks the following night flashed through his mind. But not even that was enough to keep him awake. Bruce lay on the couch, as Julia shut the door behind her. With Melissa’s image on his mind, he closed his eyes and fell asleep.
19
Matt’s loud snoring woke Bruce from his deep sleep. His friend’s image on the couch across from him slowly came into view, as he opened his blurry eyes. He glanced at the clock above the couch. It was 1:25am. All of a sudden, he recalled Matt’s words.
“We need that guy back.”
A split second after that, he remembered what Julia had said to him earlier:
“You should go get her. She’s not happy.”
“Do we? Should I?” He asked himself, putting his hands on his face. A look around him added to the emptiness that he felt in his heart.
“A song says ‘So close, no matter how far.” Damn, that lyric’s so true. I feel so cold without you, Melissa. That’s what you get for being nice, Bruce. Ok, you had her for a few days. Now what? You’re going to wait for Howard to just… hand her over to you? That’s never going to happen. I’m starting to think that Matt was right. We do need that guy back. He used to take what was his. He wouldn’t take shit from anybody. Julia was right, too. Melissa deserves to be happy. I don’t care if I have to go up against an army. I don’t give a shit if I get killed trying to get her out of there. No more ‘Mr. Nice Guy’ motherfuckers. I’m coming for you.”
The mere thought of going back to Las Vegas was enough to awaken his senses. Bruce literally jumped up and sprinted across the living room. Burning with determination to get Melissa back, he stormed out of the suite. Whatever inhibitions he had about this were gone. He would stop at nothing. In his mind, they were meant to be together.
