The Bulletproof Boy Read online

  Except I’m pretty sure the villain of our story, all along, was me.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Anxiety has been mounting in my chest since I left the airport. Sitting in the cab as we drive through Michigan, I feel like I am having a small panic attack.

  “Stop the car,” I tell the cab driver. “Pull over here.”

  “Ma’am, it’s not safe here. We’re on a busy road.”

  “I know,” I tell him. “That’s exactly why I want to stop. I’ll double your tip.”

  He shrugs as he slows down and pulls into the shoulder. “Whatever. Sure.”

  Stepping out of the car with only my purse, I leave my suitcase in the back seat. I walk out onto the grassy shoulder shakily in my heels. My legs are still cramped up from the flight. Running a hand through my hair, I walk behind the car until I can feel the wind of the vehicles rushing by. I take a deep breath.

  I try to process what is happening.

  Seconds after I was born, I was ditched at the side of the road. It might have been a road similar to this one. But it wasn’t so bad: the woman who gave birth to me was thoughtful enough to wrap me up in an old sweater first. It was a frigid February day, and I would have surely become a popsicle of placenta if not for her kindness.

  I still have that sweater.

  I keep it tucked away in a safe at Cole’s house, since it is the only thing I own that belonged to my mother. I used to take it everywhere with me, when I was younger. Once the bloodstains were washed out by the woman who found me, it made a perfectly good layering piece for brisk autumn days.

  Sometimes, I used to stand at the side of a bustling interstate, holding that tattered old sweater around my shoulders. I didn’t even flinch as the cars raced by, inches away from my body. I always loved the feeling of the wind whipping my hair into my eyes and mouth, carrying the comforting flavors of asphalt and gasoline. These are the familiar scents and sensations that welcomed me into this world.

  It was my favorite spot to think.

  As I stand here now, I already feel soothed by the sounds of the minivans and trucks slicing through the air, like a familiar lullaby. I used to wonder about what my mother was doing on the day she discarded me. She was obviously in a big rush to get somewhere important, like the supermarket or a football game. Did she miss her favorite sweater, and regret leaving it with me? Or was she thrilled to have an excuse to dispose of the itchy, woolen gift that some distant relative dumped on her? At least she had relatives to give her uncool gifts. For much of my life, I would have cried with joy to receive a pair of socks from someone even pretending to care—or doing it for a tax-deductible charity receipt.

  I used to be bitter about being abandoned, but I like to believe that I have matured enough to finally put it behind me. My mother gave me everything I needed to survive in this world. I mean, how fortunate was I to be born with two perfectly functional, opposable thumbs? My newborn intuition to wave them around while wailing for dear life surely made me one of the youngest hitchhikers in history. However, it could have been my umbilical cord flapping in the wind that drew attention to my predicament, so I probably shouldn’t overestimate the adeptness of my neonatal thumbs.

  For so many years, I tried to imagine all the different circumstances that could have led to my abandonment. I tried to understand. Now, today, I’m finally going to meet someone who was there. The person who actually took me from my mother’s arms and left me in the snow. I have imagined a lot of interesting possibilities, such as having an extremely religious young mother (possibly a nun) who had to dump the baby or be completely shunned and disavowed. I must confess that my favorite scenario was the extraterrestrial parents, who sent me away on a spaceship to avoid their planet blowing up.

  I mean, there’s not much you can do about a planet blowing up. You have to send the baby away, and I’d be totally understanding of that situation, more than any other.

  But I never imagined having a brother there, who participated in abandoning me.

  And today, I’m going to meet him.

  Okay. Well, I should probably get back to doing that. I just wanted to savor this one last moment of uncertainty, before it all becomes clear. Is clarity always a good thing to have?

  It doesn’t matter. No matter what happens today, I know that all my pain is in the past. Here I stand, on the side of the road like all those times before, but I’m a new and improved woman.

  All those dark decades of heartache are behind me.

  I’m okay. I’m finally going to be okay.

  Because I have Cole.

  I am no longer that small, naked newborn, trembling and at the mercy of the passing traffic. I’m a fully-grown woman, with an education and an amazing job. I have survived the unthinkable, time and time again.

  There is no reason that I shouldn’t be able to survive this day.

  There is no reason that I should fear meeting my brother.

  I am above this. I am above anything that can happen today.

  I don’t need this to go well.

  I am already well.

  With these thoughts fresh in my mind, I move back to enter the vehicle that is waiting on me, and inform the cabby that he can continue to our destination.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  As I get out of the taxi cab at the winery, I rethink my wardrobe.

  The bride is standing there in her stunning white gown, waiting for me, and I am wearing black from head to toe. I guess I’ve been to more funerals lately, than weddings. These are also just the type of clothes that Sophie Shields normally wears for a day at the office. I wasn’t sure how I should dress for today.

  Tugging my small suitcase behind me, I walk up to the girl, feeling suddenly shy and out of place. What are these people going to be like? We stand in silence for a moment, and she carefully studies my face before she speaks.

  “I’m Helen,” she says softly.

  “Sophie,” I tell her in response.

  My stomach is twisting up in knots. I am not sure how I should behave when Helen reaches out to grab my hands and smiles at me.

  “Thank you so much for coming to my wedding,” she says excitedly. “Your brother is waiting at the altar. He’s probably a little annoyed that I’m taking so long.”

  “He still doesn’t know about me?” I ask.

  She shakes her head. “No. I didn’t feel… I didn’t want to upset him today, or get his hopes up if you decided you didn’t want to meet him.”

  “Okay,” I say quietly, nodding and straightening my posture. “Let’s do this.”

  “You can leave your luggage here for now,” Helen tells me. “There’s no one around for miles. The wedding is taking place in the backyard.”

  “It’s a little strange,” I say, biting my lip, “to meet my brother for the first time on his wedding day. At his wedding. I feel like I’m intruding. Should I just hang back over here while you get married, and introduce myself after?”

  “No way,” Helen says. “He doesn’t have any family here except for you! He needs you to be here, even though he doesn’t know it yet.”

  Pausing, I tighten my grip on my luggage. “I have never known anything about my family. My parents aren’t here?”

  “No. Your brother didn’t want to invite them, because… well, they’re not good people. They live in New York City, and we can arrange for you to meet them as soon as possible, if you want.”

  “I do want,” I say firmly.

  “Come on,” Helen says lightly. “Whatever happens, there’s an amazing lobster dinner after this, and an open bar, where we can get wasted together.”

  I force a smile, although I feel like throwing up. “Okay,” I whisper, dropping my luggage.

  Following her out into the grass, I look at the small wedding party with curiosity.

  “I apologize for holding up the ceremony,” Helen says as we approach, “but we were missing one guest.”

  “Helen, what’s going on?” a dark-haired man says with
a frown. Oh my god, is that him? I peer closer as he speaks. “We were supposed to start fifteen minutes ago, but Owen said that you…”

  “It’s okay,” Helen tells him. “I’m here now, and I’m ready to get married. I just wanted to seat our final guest.”

  The man is looking at me. He’s studying me curiously. I study him right back.

  “Who is this?” Liam asks, leaving his spot at the altar and moving toward us slowly. “What’s going on?”

  I can’t breathe. I can see anger in his face. So much anger. Is he a cruel person?

  Helen speaks softly. “Liam, this is—”

  “No,” he says, pausing in mid-step. His face displays some kind of recognition.

  My chest aches. Somehow, I know this isn’t going to go well. I already feel rejected.

  It doesn’t matter. I have Cole.

  Liam shakes his head as he stares hard at me as though he is seeing a ghost. “This is—she is—who is this person, Helen?” His forehead is deeply creased, and his lips are pulled into a tight line.

  I shouldn’t have come. I know it now. I can see it on his face. I shouldn’t have come. It takes a great effort to keep from turning and running. I know I should run. But instead, I grit my teeth and force myself to speak. “My name is Sophie,” I say, knowing that he will never know my real name.

  He is a stranger. He will always be a stranger.

  Liam is getting emotional. His Adam’s apple is moving and he is fidgeting a great deal. “You look like—” he begins, then he pauses and shakes his head, trying to gather his composure.

  “I’m so sorry,” Liam says finally, taking a deep breath. “I must seem like a blithering idiot. You just remind me of someone. You look exactly like my mother did when I was younger.”

  This makes me pause. I forget all about running and I take a shuddering breath as I step a little closer. “I do?” I ask softly, grateful for one piece of information about my mother. I feel suddenly thirsty for more information, before this opportunity slips away. I may never see these people again. “Really? I do?”

  “Liam,” Helen says gently, placing a hand on my elbow. “This is Sophie Shields. She is your little sister.”

  The backyard grows very silent then, except for the flapping of wedding decorations in the wind. Liam’s face goes very pale, and he takes a hesitant step forward. His eyes have grown narrowed, and he is staring at me so hard that my face is burning. He begins approaching me unsteadily, until he is standing directly before me. A little too close to me.

  I want to take a step back. More than that, I still want to turn and run. With all the gunshots I’ve heard lately, and all the treatment I’ve received from men in my life who were supposed to be family… I just want to turn and run before something can go wrong. Something is going to go wrong. I just know it.

  “Clear blue eyes,” Liam whispers. He lifts his hand as though he intends to touch my face, but he does not.

  I flinch slightly on the inside, and I still feel a prickle on my cheek as though he has touched me. How can he recognize me? It’s impossible. If he was only four years old and I was an infant the last time he saw me—I surely didn’t look anything like I do now.

  His fingers are shaking. “Just like in my dream. The neurologist was wrong. He said it wasn’t real. But you’re real.”

  Neurologist? Is he sick? My throat has gone very dry and it hurts to swallow. “Do you remember me?” I ask softly, peering closely into his face for signs of truth. I have never stared into the face of a family member before, and it is frightening how unfamiliar it feels. I guess I thought there would be some kind of instant bond or connection, but I feel nothing.

  “Barely,” he whispers. “Just barely. I was there when you were born, and I held you—for a moment.” Liam shakes his head and looks up at the sky. “Oh my god, what have I done? I’m so sorry. I’m a fucking monster. I could have killed you. I could have killed you.”

  For some reason, in this moment, he reminds me of Cole. I guess I sort of know how to comfort a big brother who’s upset. Moving forward, I tentatively try to give this stranger a hug. His shoulders begin to shake with huge sobs, and I can feel how upset he is. His emotion is contagious. Tears spill out of my eyes, but I’m not sure why.

  “It’s okay,” I tell him, but I think I’m talking more to myself. “It’s okay.”

  “I thought you were just a dream,” Liam says into my shoulder as he returns the hug fiercely. “All these years. I thought—I thought…”

  “It’s okay.”

  “I tried to make her go back for you. My mother said there was no baby. She said—she said you weren’t real. Oh, god. This is all my fault. I’m a fucking monster.”

  “No,” I tell him. “You were just a child. You were innocent in all this.”

  “I knew it was wrong. I could have done something if I’d tried harder. I left you. I just left you there. You could have died!”

  “You’re my brother,” I say, although it feels strange to say it. After calling someone else my brother for so many years, it feels like I am somehow betraying Cole when I say this. I am letting go of who we used to be, but this is what needs to be done. I need to move forward. “If it weren’t for Helen, I would have lived my whole life without meeting you. All I feel—all I feel is happy. Happy to know something about where I come from, and who I am.”

  “Happy?” Liam demands. “After what I’ve done?”

  “Yes,” I respond quietly. “I forgive you.”

  He hugs me again tightly, for a long moment. I don’t really know what I feel. I am so overwhelmed and scared that I think I’m blocking out my emotions so that I feel nothing at all.

  My brother turns to his soon-to-be wife. “Helen. You did this? How? How did you find her? Owen? You’re in on this, too?”

  They nod. For the first time, I notice some of the other people here.

  “I’m sorry,” Helen says. “I know you didn’t want me to do the test. But remember that night you drank too much? The surprise bachelor party? I asked Owen to, well…”

  “You stole my DNA?” he asks in shock.

  “Yes, but—”

  “Owen, you helped her do this? You—you drugged me,” Liam says in sudden realization. “You drugged me so you could steal my saliva. What kind of a friend are you?”

  “Dude, I’m sorry,” Owen says, moving forward to put a hand on Liam’s shoulder, but Liam grabs his wrist and twists it, roughly shoving his friend away. “Ouch!” Owen says in pain, rubbing his wrist.

  That looked like judo to me. I remember Levi trying to show me a few things. I almost want to step in and try to defend poor Owen, but I think it would make a bad impression if I came to my brother’s wedding and kicked his ass on the first day I met him. But I kind of want to kick his ass right now.

  Liam turns to glare at Helen, and he looks like he is going to murder her. Heat and fear rises in my stomach. I nearly step between them protectively. I’ve seen that look on the faces of too many men. Maybe he wasn’t exaggerating when he said he was a monster.

  All of a sudden, Liam, my brother, turns and walks away, heading toward the house. Helen calls after him, chasing after him.

  “Liam!” she calls, with concern. She walks after him a little, then seems to realize the situation is serious. She picks up her wedding dress and begins running after him. I watch the scene unfolding before me, and suddenly, I smile.

  I guess we really are related.

  He can run away like a scared little bitch, just as well as I can.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  I am walking down the side of the road as quickly as I can in my black heels, and dragging my suitcase behind me. I just need to get away from this place, and get home. A caterer shoved a bottle of red wine at me as I was leaving the winery, which I happily accepted and stuffed in my purse for later. I am looking forward to opening that bottle up at my earliest convenience. In fact, it’s tempting to open it right here as I walk down the side of the road
, and continue walking while periodically chugging from a wine bottle.

  Real classy.

  I keep twisting my ankle slightly on the gravely texture of the road, but I don’t care. I keep on walking. I could change into my running shoes, which are in my carry-on, but my need for constant motion and speed doesn’t allow me to stop to do this. I realize that I am probably going to aggravate the newly healed blisters on my feet this way, but I can’t stop walking. And I can’t seem to feel the pain.

  “Hey!” a voice shouts out from behind me. “Hey! Sophie!”

  I pause and turn slightly to see a girl running after me. She does not have any luggage, so she is able to move a lot faster than I am. It’s Helen—my almost-sister-in-law. But can you have in-laws if you don’t really have a brother?

  I had a brother, once. But then I married him. Does that mean I’m already my own sister-in-law? Wow. Mind blown.

  “Sophie, damn, you walk fast in those shoes!” she says, panting as she struggles to catch up. She would probably be driving, but Liam slashed the tires on the cars so no one could easily follow him.

  “You changed out of that wedding dress really quickly,” I tell her in amusement.

  “I didn’t want to let you leave like this. And I want to fly back to New York to see if I can catch up with Liam before he does something stupid.”

  That’s right.

  I was forced to briefly socialize with Liam’s friends and Helen’s family after the wedding I ruined, and they were so nice that it made me feel even worse about coming here and messing up their lives. Everyone was telling me what a great guy my brother is, and how sorry they are on his behalf. They told me a little about his life, and our parents, but I couldn’t really focus. That angry look on his face, like he meant to hurt Helen—even if he only thought about it for a second—I just can’t feel any love for him.