The Bulletproof Boy Page 20

  Does no one else see how strange this situation is?

  Cole just turned into a superhero before all of our eyes. I suppose that I’m not the only one who has that secret power. Maybe that’s why we’re perfect for each other.

  We will both always find a way to do what needs to be done.

  Smiling slightly, I step out of the mausoleum, taking a real breath of clean, fresh air. I stare at Cole’s bloodstained back as he moves over to check out the bodies of the men he shot, nudging them with his toes. He looks like he is ready for round two if either of them should show the tiniest sign of life, even a twitch. He looks calm, collected, and completely in control.

  He looks… happy.

  This man of mine is a mystery to me.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “You were right,” Cole says as he lies on the bed in the safe house with his new injury all bandaged up. “Coming back to L.A. was a great idea.”

  “I’m glad you think so,” I tell him softly as I do some light research on my laptop.

  We wanted to go back to our house, but Luciana refused until the investigation was completely over, saying it was possible the two men were working with others. There were drugs found in the mausoleum, after all, and it turns out that Marco Polo Loco was part of a larger smuggling ring.

  Cole yawns as he sprawls out on the bed. “Everything has just been going so well since we got back here. And I really missed Miranda and Roddy! It was lonely out in the desert. I feel so much better now.”

  “Are you somehow high?” I ask him cautiously.

  “Not at all. I was just so frightened before, after everything that happened, and I didn’t feel like myself. It’s a little funny how getting shot a third time fixed that. It must be because you were there,” he says, reaching out to squeeze my leg. “Nothing ever seems as bad when you’re around.”

  A fond smile touches my lips. “I know how you feel.” Cole has been in amazingly positive spirits since he killed the people who tried to kill him. At first, I found myself wondering if he had gone insane. But then I started thinking about the way that Cole’s childhood ended when he was nine years old. Since the day his parents were killed, Cole has forced himself to be an adult, work hard, and accomplish enough for ten men.

  Recently, especially these past few days—this is the first time he’s really had a break. He’s been able to have fun. That might be why he likened killing those men to a video game. I think he’s just letting his inner child out more, and being more relaxed. Multiple near-death experiences will do funny things to a person.

  “Life only seems unbearable when you’re alone,” Cole tells me. “And… when you’re operating at your maximum capacity for a really long time. It’s just exhausting wear-and-tear, emotionally. But once you get pushed past that limit—that’s when you find out that your maximum is actually way higher than you ever believed it was. We’re all capable of so much more than we think we are. We are all so much stronger than we believe. Our bodies feel fragile, but they are extremely resilient little meat suits, capable of taking a beating. And our minds? Our minds are impenetrable, and no bullets can change our thoughts, our identities, our feelings—unless we let them. Your mind, especially, Scarlett, is so strong. I need to be more like you.”

  “I don’t know about that, Cole,” I tell him gently, knowing that my mind is a mess—more than he could possibly imagine. “So, I’ve been looking into that architect you shot,” I tell him as I pull up some information on my laptop. “Marco Williams Jr. has a very long rap sheet that extends back even farther than that stint in juvie with you. It looks like he applied for a job at your firm and was turned away for substandard work. He’s competed with you on a bunch of projects, especially one in Venezuela, where he smuggled a lot of cocaine. He was probably growing really sick of you beating him in absolutely every respect. So, when Jeremy hired him, they probably got to shit talking you, and that’s how they connected.”

  “I guess that’s how you know you’ve really been successful,” Cole says proudly. “When you have the power to join people together in so much hatred that they become serial killers and put together a murder museum in a mausoleum!”

  “Okay, you have had way too many painkillers,” I tell him, touching his forehead.

  “Give me your laptop,” Cole says suddenly. “I have a gift for you.”

  “My laptop?” I say warily, pulling it closer to my body. “First Zack’s rifle, now my laptop. What’s gotten into you?”

  “Shut up,” he says, pulling it away from my grasp. He types in a website, and then some login credentials, clicks a few buttons, and passes it back to me. “There,” he says. “The DNA results. You can decide whether you want to approve joining this program that will send a notification to any biological family with your contact info. I put your name in there as Sophie, just to be safe, and some vague contact info. Of course, we could always hunt them down if they don’t reach out. It’s up to you.”

  “Cole, this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me,” I tell him with a nervous smile. My fingers are shaking a little as I navigate through the website, reading the fine print. I am excited, but also afraid, and feeling a little crazy after the events of the previous night. Scooting back, I lean against Cole for comfort. “Press the button with me?”

  “Sure,” he says, kissing the top of my head. My finger hovers over the approve button, and Cole pushes my finger down so that I click on it.

  “Ah!” I say anxiously, turning to bury my face into his chest. “I can’t wait to meet them. I hope they’re really nice.”

  “They can’t be worse than the Browns,” Cole assures me. “As long as you don’t have to attend any dinner parties with a dozen corpses, I’d consider it a win.”

  I laugh softly, and wonder to myself how I can possibly laugh at this. “Too soon,” I say quietly. Then my smile disappears. “I have a present for you, too, Cole.” Reaching out to grab my purse off the night table, I fish into its depths and pull out an old, yellowed letter. Handling it gently with my fingertips, I present him with the same pages he left for me in that vodka bottle all those years ago.

  His face displays clear emotion as he takes it from me and begins to read its contents. He smiles sadly a couple times, and wipes his nose. “Damn. This was such a long time ago, Scarlett. It’s funny how so many things have changed, but so much has stayed the same.”

  “What has changed?” I ask him.

  He studies me for a few seconds before responding. “We grew up.” Putting the letter aside, he reaches out to slide his hand over my hips. Grasping my thigh, he pulls me closer, so that my body is pressed against his. “Speaking of which, I have another present for you.”

  “Oh?”

  “Look what I got,” he says, fishing into his pants and holding up a row of condoms. “This is a safe house after all. I thought we could have some really safe sex. Because I just got shot, and I’m really into safety right now. Girl, you know that’s how I roll. Safety pins, safety belts, safety goggles, safety nets… safety… deposit boxes.”

  “Cole, are you writing me a love song? Because I think you shouldn’t quit your day job.”

  “I already quit my day job,” he says sadly. “So I have nothing else to do but please you all day long. You don’t want to be safe with me?” he asks, with mock hurt on his face.

  “No, I do,” I say, giggling. “Where did you get condoms? I thought you weren’t leaving the safe house until you’re healed up.”

  “I asked Zack.”

  “Cole!”

  “Just kidding. I asked the doctor who patched me up.”

  I fix him with an annoyed glare. He is grinning at me, obviously amused that I believed his joke.

  I want to smack him. Taking a deep breath, I glance at the condoms warily. “The doctor said that you were healthy enough to use them?”

  “Not exactly. But maybe I’ll break the rules a little for you,” he says playfully, tugging me down onto the bed wi
th him.

  “Hey, Cole,” I ask him softly, putting my hands on his face. “Please be serious with me for a second. Are you sure you’re okay? You’re not just pretending to be extra cheerful for me?”

  “No way,” he says with a completely solemn expression. “I am in a great mood, Scar. It was worth the trip back to civilization and the new bullet hole in my hip just to get these.” He gestures to the condoms again. “Now I can make sweet, sweet love to you, all night long, and you don’t have to worry about a thing.”

  I laugh softly at this, and wrap my arms around his neck in contentment. “Okay,” I whisper, pressing my lips against his neck, “but we’re going to need a lot more of those.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  A few days later…

  “Cole, stop,” I tell him sharply, grasping his shoulder. “Over there—do you see that?”

  “I think so,” he says, with narrowed eyes. “Let’s get closer so we can listen.” Placing a hand on my back, he nudges me closer to the corner of the room, while grabbing a fresh glass of champagne from the bar.

  We are trying to act inconspicuous at the party. Cole is wearing a faux beard that conceals his features, and green contact lenses over his dark eyes. It looks very strange to me, but I can still tell that it’s him under there. Things have finally begun to calm down since Jeremy Brown and Marco Polo Loco were killed. Cole’s injury has mended enough for him to walk around with ease. Miranda has decided to throw us a little party in her home to celebrate—a small barbeque with close family and friends.

  “You’re right,” he says quietly, as his face lights up. “They are definitely flirting.”

  “Think he’s finally going to muster the balls to ask her out?” I say, glancing at Detective Rodriguez.

  “I hope so. His body language seems more confident today. Besides, I made a little wager that he would chicken out, so he has a monetary incentive to man up.”

  “He’s had a few glasses of champagne,” I add, taking a sip from my own. “That should help.”

  “Poor guy,” Cole says with a grin. “He’s not afraid of drug dealers and pimps, but god forbid he ever has to talk to a lady at a party.”

  “I don’t know. Luciana is scarier than drug dealers or pimps, if you ask me.” My boss chooses that moment to glance over at me, and I raise my glass with an innocent smile.

  She gives me a suspicious look before returning her gaze to Rodriguez. And then she yawns.

  “Oh, no,” Cole says with dismay. “He’s boring her.”

  “Everything bores her. It takes a lot to excite a girl like that.”

  Cole nudges me. “No way. She can’t be harder to please than you are. I basically have to die to get your attention. I’m warning you right now, Scar, I can’t keep up this level of excitement for much longer. Three bullets are enough for one year, no? You’ll have to learn to be satisfied with the little things.”

  “What little things?” I ask him with a coy smile.

  “Honey,” Miranda says from behind us, and we turn to face her. She frowns. “Scar, I received a phone call for you from the office. It’s about the DNA results. The secretary vetted it to make sure it’s safe. Do you want to take it?”

  “Sure,” I tell her softly, retrieving her cell phone. As I unmute the call and place it to my ear, I glance at Cole with worry. “Hello?”

  “Hi!” says a woman’s voice. “Oh my god, is this Sophie Shields?”

  “It depends on who’s asking,” I say curiously.

  “I had to call so many numbers to get to you. I hope I have the right person. Okay, this is going to sound crazy. Are you still there?”

  “Yes,” I say curiously.

  “My name is Helen Winters, and I just received the email notification that my DNA results were ready. I—I took the DNA samples from me and my fiancé just to check up on our general health issues before trying to conceive. Well, I just saw that he has a sibling match with you. Did you know about this?”

  “I know a little,” I say, after a heavy pause.

  “It’s crazy because he doesn’t have any siblings, but he’s been having this recurring nightmare about a newborn baby girl. He believes that he killed her when he was around four years old, because his mother asked him to leave the baby at the side of the road. In the snow.”

  I feel like the wind has been knocked out of me. Putting a hand over my face to conceal the torrent of emotions I suddenly feel, I move away from my friends, and out onto the grass of Miranda’s lawn. I begin pacing. “In the snow?” I repeat.

  “Yes. Does this sound… familiar?”

  I let out a little nervous laugh. All the hairs on the back of my neck are standing up, and there are cold chills prickling my skin, from head to toe. “Well, I didn’t die,” I say awkwardly, as if that isn’t obvious. I am so nervous that I’ve lost the ability to use the English language properly. My chest hurts. I don’t know if I’m happy or sad, but I find that I am holding my breath and waiting for more information.

  The girl on the other end of the phone also laughs nervously. “I’m really glad you didn’t. Okay, so this is going to sound even crazier. Liam—that’s your brother—Liam and I are getting married tomorrow. We’re up at a vineyard in Michigan. Do you think you could make it to the wedding? I totally understand if not, and we can totally do it another time. I just thought it would be a lovely surprise, and would really mean a lot to him, if you could be here.”

  I turn back to look at everyone in the party, having a good time, drinking and chatting. I see Cole walking toward me, looking concerned. He is limping slightly due to the new injury to his hip, and I hate to see him in pain. I know he’s been acting tough for me, but he’s still tired. He needs rest.

  “Why are you calling me?” I ask the girl on the phone. “Shouldn’t this—Liam—be the one calling?”

  “I haven’t told him yet. Just in case you can’t make it, I don’t want to upset him right now.”

  “I see,” I say, reaching out to touch Cole’s arm as he approaches. “I have been looking for my family my whole life. I had given up. Are you absolutely sure he wants to meet me?”

  “He does,” she says. “The problem is that he doesn’t know you exist. He thinks you died when you were an infant, and he believes it’s his fault. It’s been eating him up for years.” She pauses. “He’s been really stressed out lately, with the wedding, and family problems. I just want something good for him, and if you would like to connect…”

  “Yes,” I say softly, without even thinking. Inhaling deeply, I nod, although she cannot see it. I continue nodding as I stare at Cole and play with the buttons on his shirt. This could be huge for me. This could be life-altering for me. “Okay,” I say with a scrunched up face. “Okay. I think I can come to Michigan. Did you say your name was Helen?”

  “Yes! Yes, oh my god. I can’t tell you how much this means to me, Sophie. It could be so wonderful for Liam to meet you. I hate to tell you this over the phone, but he doesn’t have the greatest relationship with his parents. He had a rough childhood, and he’s very lonely. Knowing that he has a sister would mean everything to him—to us! I mean, I’m getting married to him tomorrow, so you’ll be my sister too.”

  This girl is so sweet. So innocent, gentle, and sweet. She sounds really young and idealistic, and like she truly wants the best for her fiancé. She doesn’t even seem concerned that something might go wrong. Could this really happen? Could I really have a family? I am old enough to know not to count my chickens before they are hatched. “Okay, Helen,” I say, clearing my throat. “Is this your number here on the display? 646 area code?”

  “Yes.”

  “I can send you a text message, and you can get me the details of the address and the time of the wedding.”

  “I’ll buy you a plane ticket!” Helen says excitedly. “It says here you’re in California? What airport will you be flying from? I’ll send a car to pick you up, too.”

  “Anything around L.A. will be fi
ne,” I tell her.

  “Okay. I’ll… see you tomorrow!” Helen says, with enthusiasm in her voice. “And no pressure, if you need to change your mind at the last minute. I know this already is the last minute, with zero notice, so—”

  “No,” I tell her firmly. “I’ll be there.” When I see the flash of panic on Cole’s face, I hesitate. “Well, I’ll let you know if anything comes up.”

  “Great. I’m so excited, Sophie. Can’t wait to meet you.”

  “Me too.”

  When I end the call, I look at Cole with amazement. “I think—I think I’m going to meet my brother tomorrow. My real brother.”

  “I’m not invited?” he asks.

  I gently place my hand on his hip, indicating his recent bullet wound. But to all the partygoers in the house, and on the deck, it probably looks like I am grabbing his ass. So, I might as well go ahead and do that, too, since I’ve had some champagne.

  “You probably shouldn’t travel until you’re all better,” I tell him softly, with my hand resting in his back pocket.

  “Scar,” he says with sudden worry. “I don’t know how I feel about letting you go all the way to Michigan alone right now. I know I killed the bad guys, but still… I would prefer if you take Zack with you than go alone.”

  “Really?” I say in surprise, looking over to where Zack is talking with Mr. and Mrs. Bishop. “I don’t know. I like flying alone and having time to think by myself. I don’t need Zack. I’m a big girl.”

  “Scarlett, we’ve all been through a lot these past few weeks. I know you’re tough as nails, but you shouldn’t be alone.”

  “We’ll discuss it. Let me just text this girl,” I say, handing him my glass of champagne. I pull out my own cellphone and begin copying her number from Miranda’s phone. As I do this, I hear some girlish laughter to my right, and I see Rodriguez has finally made Luciana laugh. I look up at Cole with a smile, which he returns.