The Thunderproof Sky

by Loretta Lost

  There’s someone else behind me.

  My heartrate immediately doubles. I can feel the blood pumping wildly in my face, my ears.

  I reach for the wrist. I don’t even really think about it as I duck under the man’s arm and twist him to the ground, straddling him with a knee in his back. I use the tactics my old friend Levi taught me many years ago to subdue my attacker. I punch him in the kidneys, hard, twice, before proceeding to break his arm.

  But before I can totally break the arm, I feel Cole pulling me off him and imprisoning me with his grip again.

  I hear a woman’s laughter, and a man groaning and cursing with annoyance.

  “Fuck!” he is saying while grabbing his arm.

  “I told you so,” she is saying smugly.

  I am confused.

  “Snow,” Cole says softly, into my ear. “It’s just our friends. It’s okay.”

  My vision clears a little, and I am able to recognize the two people. I am breathing heavily, and this time, I guess I’m a little glad that Cole has confined my limbs. I nearly made a huge mistake.

  “That was uncalled for,” Detective Rodriguez whines, clutching his arm and rolling around on the pavement. “Cole, your woman is a savage.”

  “Poor Little Ricky,” says a musical female voice, with a laugh. “What did you expect? I warned you not to sneak up on her, after what she’s just been through. I said ‘approach with caution,’ but did you listen? Serves you right.”

  Looking at her, a smile begins to overtake my lips. My shoulders relax, and the fight goes out of me.

  “It’s okay,” Cole whispers. “It’s safe. You can let Scar come back.”

  I scowl at these words. He wants me to leave again. He only thinks it’s been me for a second, but he’s already too embarrassed to allow me around his precious police officer friend, or my own damn boss. I am still panting, and pumped full of adrenaline. I shove my elbow backwards into Cole’s ribcage to free myself and get him off me.

  Who does he think he is? To control me like that, and tell me when to go and come?

  Although, if Serena was anywhere to be found, I would probably listen.

  “Sophie!” my boss squeals, leaping forward and throwing her arms around my neck. I am surprised for a second, but then I relax and hug her back.

  “I missed you, Luce,” I tell her, squeezing her body tightly. Then I realize that I might be being more affectionate than Serena normally would be. I don’t even care. I don’t have any girlfriends, other than Serena, and maybe that item on the list was partially for me. I deserve to have a friend, too.

  And pizza—I definitely deserve pizza.

  “Ouch,” Luciana says, as I hug her so tightly that she gets poked in the collarbone by my new jewelry. She pulls away, to examine the bones on my necklace, and looks at me with a raised eyebrow. “What is this?”

  “The vertebrae of my enemies?” I explain innocently, and she and Rodriguez stare at me with wide eyes. I pause for comedic timing, and try out a joke I’ve been hoping for the perfect opportunity to use: “Benjamin was a real pain in the neck, if you know what I mean.”

  Rodriguez cocks his head to the side in consternation.

  Cole sighs.

  A giggle escapes Luciana’s throat. Then she busts out in full-blown laughter.

  I smile widely. Perfect. I have found my audience.

  “Ohmigod, I love that,” she says, gushing. “When did you get a sense of humor? I worked beside you for years, and you never said a single damn funny thing. You should get captured and tortured more often, Soph. It has given you so much charisma.”

  “Did you hear that, Cole? Lucy thinks I have charisma.”

  Cole rolls his eyes. “How did you find us, Luciana?”

  She and I speak at the same time, as if it’s obvious: “The rental car.”

  He glances at it, and nods. “Oh. Makes sense.”

  “Also,” Luciana says, “someone beat the shit out of an old man who looked vaguely like Benjamin, in the same 7 Eleven bathroom from which Sophie liked my Instagram picture of a Starbucks latte.”

  I shift around uncomfortably. “But—the little heart they drew in the foam? So cute.”

  “Super cute,” Luciana agrees with a nod. “That was a really good latte. By the way, that guy’s in a coma now.”

  “Whoops,” I say with a shrug.

  “Scarlett!” Cole complains. “I left you alone for thirty seconds.”

  “No, no,” Luciana says, waving her hands wildly. “It’s okay. His wife had a black eye, and they found child porn on his computer, so don’t even worry about it.”

  I nod. “He seemed like the type. I seem to attract that type.”

  “But we’re here on kinda-sorta official business,” Rodriguez says. “We were hoping to sit down with the two of you and have a nice conversation.”

  “Maybe with wine,” Luciana says with a wink.

  “Oh! Can we get lattes, too?” I ask, linking my arm with hers. “Actually, do you want to hang out with me? Can we go shopping on Fifth Avenue? I’ve always wanted to go shopping in New York with a girlfriend.”

  “Sure,” Luciana says with surprise. “I’ve only been begging you to chill with me outside of work for years, Sophie.”

  “I’m sorry,” I tell her earnestly, with a secretive glance at Cole. “I just get so locked up in my own head sometimes. I could never just relax and let go, and have some fun. But nearly dying has changed all that.”

  Luciana nods suspiciously. “You were always all work and no play, Shields.”

  “I know. Hey! You guys should have a double date with us!” I say, gesturing at Rodriguez. “Cole has been so boring today, and maybe you can liven him up a little. I just want to celebrate and have a blast tonight. We were planning to have a delicious dinner, and stay at a luxurious five-star hotel. Maybe we can even see a show on Broadway!”

  “Well, you did survive something pretty incredible,” Luciana admits. “I think you deserve to celebrate. I’m not going to date Rodriguez, but I would possibly enjoy getting plastered with you guys, nonetheless.”

  “Why not date me?” he asks with hurt.

  “Um, because I’m CIA and you’re just a detective. I’m way, way out of your league,” Luciana says, making a face as if it’s obvious.

  “Don’t worry, Little Ricky,” I whisper. “You will grow increasingly attractive as she grows increasingly plastered. Do you want to party with us?”

  “Party means cocaine, right?” he responds.

  I look at him quizzically. “No…”

  “Oh, good. Because I’m sober! I’m always down for a party. As long as you guys are paying for everything,” he adds, clapping Cole on the back in a manly sort-of half hug. “Luciana is right. I am just a broke-ass detective, and I can’t really afford New York.” Then he adds in a quieter, more disappointed voice, “Or cocaine.”

  Luciana and I share amused looks, and she bursts out laughing again.

  I turn to look at Cole with a pleased smile, and he returns it halfheartedly.

  He is studying me strangely, and I can tell he is starting to suspect that something is wrong.

  I wonder how much more time I have left to enjoy being myself.

  Chapter Six

  “I gotta admit, buddy,” Rodriguez says as he takes a lick of his mint chocolate chip ice cream cone, “this is a pretty good day. I never imagined we’d be out shopping with the girls a few weeks ago when you came to my apartment tearing your hair out about Scarlett being missing.”

  “Yeah. I really thought I’d lost her.” I sample some of my own ice cream cone—cookies and cream—as we walk down Fifth Avenue, behind Luciana and Scarlett. I feel surprisingly lighthearted, even though both Roddy and I have several bags weighing down our arms already, and the girls keep piling them on. Okay, I will admit that some of the items belong to us. Rodriguez pulled me aside and begged me to help him get a nice suit, while the girls were buying sparkly dresses. Once he saw Luciana trying
on her dress, he decided he needed to try to look a little less out of her league.

  I tried my best to help him, but informed him that the clothes don’t make the man. He informed me that only people who can afford the best clothing would ever say that.

  But overall, it has been a good day. It’s a little strange for me, watching Scarlett linking her arms with Luciana and popping in and out of stores like an excited schoolgirl.

  As per her request, we got adjoining suites at the Ritz, overlooking Central Park, for an exorbitant amount. I mean, we can easily afford it, but since we grew up extremely poor, Scarlett and I are still used to being frugal on most things. The only way we can usually convince ourselves to spend money is if it seems like a good investment where that money can grow.

  We used the room to shower and freshen up and store our luggage before heading out on the town. Scarlett made sure that our “park view” rooms had a healthy dose of skyscrapers visible from the bedrooms, for my benefit. She’s very thoughtful that way.

  “Cole!” Scarlett says, nearly bouncing out of the Gucci store, pulling a new treasure from her shopping bag. Her eyes are lit up, and she looks ten years younger than she did this morning. “What do you think of this belt?”

  “It’s nice,” I respond, giving her a nervous smile.

  She proceeds to reach out and slide the belt through the loops on my pants, and fastens the buckle in the front. She stands back and looks at me happily, clasping her hands in excitement. “It’s beautiful! What do you think, Luce?”

  “Looks pretty good,” Luciana says as she exits the store, and I swear her eyes linger a little too long below the belt. She sighs. “I wish I had a man to shop for.”

  Rodriguez clears his throat. “Um, well, I’m here! You could pretend I’m yours and shop for me.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” Luciana responds. “That belt cost more than my rent! I’m not buying you shit. But there was a purse in there I want to stare at one last time.”

  “Which one?” Scarlett asks. “I’ll get it for you! You deserve it for being the best boss ever.”

  “Awww, shucks,” Luciana says happily, as they enter the store again together.

  My friend sighs. “Do you even like that belt?”

  I glance down with a shrug. “It’s okay. It’s a belt.”

  “You rich people make me sick,” Rodriguez says. “Here you have an amazing girl running into Dior, Chanel, Burberry, Louis Vuitton, getting all these great gifts for you, wallets, cufflinks, ties—and you don’t even need to wear suits to work anymore! You don’t seem impressed, even though she’s clearly head over heels in love with you.”

  “I don’t know,” I say softly. “Something seems a little off about her. What if all of this is a distraction?”

  “A distraction from what?”

  “Roddy, this is the girl who stole a one-point-four million dollar Bugatti for me. This is the girl who broke us out of prison.”

  “Are you saying that she’s showered you with so many expensive gifts and grand gestures of love that you can’t appreciate a Gucci belt?” my friend asks in annoyance. He groans audibly. “I wish I had your problems.”

  “No, Roddy. Just that this doesn’t feel like her. When Scarlett needs new clothes, she grabs her laptop and hacks herself a whole new wardrobe for free. She can do anything—she doesn’t do small things like this. I’ve never seen her enjoy herself while shopping. If she needs something at a store, she runs in and runs out—okay, and maybe she occasionally beats up random old men on her way to the bathroom.”

  My friend glares at me. “Cole, what is wrong with you, man? She’s having a good time. After everything she’s been through, can’t you just let her walk around and spend some money and laugh like nothing bad ever happened?”

  “You don’t know her like I do. Something’s wrong.”

  Rodriguez makes a fist and punches me in the shoulder. The shoulder that hasn’t completely healed up from getting shot a few weeks ago. I grunt and flinch, and he throws up both hands in apology.

  “Sorry, man. But you need to chillax. We’re having a great day. We’re fucking eating ice cream instead of attending your wife’s funeral right now. That’s a huge win, okay?”

  I nod, glancing in the store where Scarlett is holding an ugly Gucci t-shirt up against Luciana’s body, and surely insisting that they get it. I allow a small smile to crack my lips. Why can’t I just relax and enjoy this? It’s pretty adorable.

  “Even before Benjamin got her,” Rodriguez says, “I watched that girl put a gun to her head at your funeral. Do you have any idea how I felt? I was the one who helped you fake your death, and I was lying right to her face. If she had killed herself, it would have been my fault too, Cole. You never told me she was so fragile. You never told me that she loved you so much she would want to die without you.”

  “At that point, I really didn’t think she still cared,” I say softly. “I was mistaken to put her through that.”

  “You’re damn right, you were. In fact, if it weren’t for Zachary, she probably would have shot herself. I was too frozen and shocked, I couldn’t move fast enough. He tackled her and took the gun.”

  “No. It wasn’t Zack,” I say thoughtfully, remembering something Snow said to me a while ago. I fought so hard to stop her, but I can’t take control. I can only make her finger hesitate on the trigger. I can’t stop her from pulling it unless she lets me. She’s getting stronger as she gets older. If Scarlett had really wanted to kill herself, no one would have been able to stop her. But there was that one, sacred part of her who wanted to survive. The girl who will survive at any cost—and wants nothing more than to live. I stare at the dark-haired woman in the Gucci shop with consternation.

  Rodriguez is still lecturing me. “You weren’t there, Cole. You had to see her. She was a mess, and Zack took care of her. He was actually really kind and supportive. I don’t think she would have survived all of that without him.”

  “Well, that makes me feel a little guilty for shooting him in the head.”

  “You did what?”

  “Just with a rubber bullet,” I explain, with a shrug. “I was angry at him for taking her after she escaped Benjamin. He acted completely out of line. Please—don’t mention this to her. I lied to Scarlett and told her that Zack called me.”

  Rodriguez is blinking at me in shock. “Cole, how did you even find her? I remember that we were trying to figure out where Zack would have taken her, but you already…”

  “I called in a favor with my grandparents, Roddy.”

  “Your mafia grandparents?”

  “Yes. Don’t tell her, please. It’s been hard lying to her, but I just didn’t want to give her additional stress.”

  “Zack didn’t deserve that, Cole.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” I hiss. “I completely appreciate him taking care of her before we got back together. But you should have seen her when I found her a few weeks ago. Days? Weeks? I don’t know how long it’s been. She was just sitting and staring into space all day. She was broken—and he couldn’t help her. He was out of his depth, and scared to touch her. He couldn’t understand how she was feeling, you know? She was seeing people who weren’t there. I had to take her to a psych ward.”

  “And did that help her?” Rodriguez asks.

  “No,” I admit.

  “So what did help her?”

  “Honestly—this is going to sound crazy.” I hesitate. “She’s been asking for sex nonstop. Like nearly all day and all night. Since the psych ward, it’s basically been eat, sleep, fuck. Eat, sleep, fuck. Rinse and repeat. I was worried at first, but it seems to be making her healthier and happier. Like it’s overriding her bad experiences, or helping her forget them. And… I guess it’s helping me, too.”

  “I hate you so much right now,” Rodriguez mutters. “I hate you and your stupid Gucci belt. Thanks for making me feel like the fucking third wheel on your fucking third honeymoon with your childhood
sweetheart. I’ve never had someone who cared about me like that—I’ve never even come close. I’m going to be sleeping on the couch in the adjoining suite tonight, crying and chugging bottles from the minibar, while knowing that you guys are living happily ever after and making babies in the next room, and Luciana doesn’t even remotely like me, and thinks I’m so far beneath her that she wouldn’t even consider letting me into the bed with her, no matter how much shopping or drinking she does today.”

  I let out a low whistle. My friend really needs a wingman. Looking into the store, I see that the girls are cashing out, and almost ready to leave. Scanning our surroundings thoughtfully, I get a brilliant idea—which is actually a pun, once you find out what my idea is. I reach into my pocket and slide a credit card out of my wallet, and hand it to Rodriguez.

  “Diamonds,” I say simply.

  “What?”

  I gesture to the store behind him, with familiar, classic vault doors. “I don’t know if Luciana is that kind of girl, but it can’t hurt your already dismal chances. Put the card in your pocket, don’t let her know it’s mine. Try something like this, and make sure you don’t fuck it up: Hey, Lucy, you seem like you have excellent taste. Do you think you can help me choose a gift for this girl I really like? Then when you go in the store, talk about how wonderful the girl is, how smart, how interesting, and basically make her super jealous. Buy the item that she seems to really love, not the one she recommends—maybe like a necklace or a bracelet or something—something better than what she recommends. Buy something so expensive it makes her uncomfortable, and again, really jealous of this mystery girl. Maybe she’ll even be a little upset that you were flirting with her while you’re actually interested in someone else. Tell her you’re not sure if the girl is really into you, but you are hoping you’ll know after she receives your gift. When you cash out, make sure you tell the salesperson that your ‘good friend’ Lucy, here, helped you pick it out. And you hope the girl you like will love it—she’s so beautiful, and the jewelry will look so amazing on her. Then, later on, after Lucy’s had a few drinks, maybe in the hotel room, you give it to her. She’ll be flabbergasted, and the panties will drop.”