Page 13 of Bazooka

I ran out of the apartment and down the stairs, catching up with Luz in the lobby.

“Wait,” I said, hurrying after him. “I’ll give you a ride home.”

“I would rather crawl,” he bit out.

He was going to drive me to an early grave. I was sure of it.

When I reached him, I grabbed him by the waist and threw him over my shoulder. He kicked and screamed, probably waking up half the neighborhood, as I carried him to my car. I deposited him in the back seat and locked the door, then I drove him to his apartment.

During the ride, we were both silent. I regretted this entire fucking nightmare even before we left our street, but I couldn’t afford to back out. He would take it as a sign of weakness, so… no. Besides, he was getting what he deserved.

I glanced at him in the rearview mirror, only to see him staring out the window. His face was impassive, but the way he was biting his nail spoke of his distress. If he’d apologized to me then, I would have turned the car around and driven him back to my place, but he remained silent.

He got out of the car even before I turned off the engine, which further pissed me off. Still, I hurried after him and followed him into the building.

“Which floor?” I said as he limped down the hall, making me feel even worse.

“Fuck off.”

Ground floor, obviously. He was unlocking the door to his apartment when I touched his arm, making him look at me.

“Let me in first.”

I didn’t know if it was a habit because of the years spent on the police force or just a gut feeling.

He wanted to refuse, but something in my eyes must have stopped him, and he yielded.

He stepped to the side as I and pulled out my gun and opened the door a fraction.

Again, pure habit. Then I heard a sound neither of us made, and it came from his apartment.

When I saw the panic in his gaze, I brought my index finger to my mouth, motioning for him to stay quiet.

I slowly pushed the door open, hiding behind the wall.

I peeked inside and scanned the darkened room, only to see a large shadow standing by the open window.

In the blink of an eye, the intruder was gone.

I heard him running down the fire escape stairs, and I would have chased him, but I didn’t dare leave Luz alone.

Someone else could still be in the apartment.

I pushed Luz behind me until he was hidden behind my back and motioned for him to follow me.

I flicked the light on, pointing my gun towards the hall that led to two more rooms. First, I checked the small bathroom, which turned out to be empty.

I left Luz there and told him to lock the door behind me while I checked the rest of the apartment.

When I was certain we were alone, I knocked on the bathroom door, and Luz let me in, as pale as a sheet.

I dragged my hand down my face. “Are you okay?”

He nodded, but he didn’t look okay.

“The apartment is empty and you’re safe,” I said, which was most important for him to know. “Look around and see if anything’s missing, then pack for a few days.”

As he did what I said, I inspected the place. It wasn’t ransacked or anything; in fact, everything seemed to be in place, which was odd. It didn’t look like a burglary, and I liked the other possibilities even less.

When Luz appeared with a backpack slung over his shoulder, I took in his stricken face and eyes widened in fear.

“Let’s go home,” I said with a weary sigh. “We’ll talk about this later.”

On our way back, Luz was silent as a tomb, while I called Jordan. I told him to send the team to Luz’s apartment so they could collect evidence, if there was any. Only when we came to my apartment and Luz plopped down on the sofa did he speak.

“Who the fuck was that?”

“That’s what I wanted to ask you,” I said, sitting down beside him. “Is it possible that those rugby guys found out where you live?”

Luz made a face. “Unlikely. They don’t know who I am or where I live. Maybe it was a burglar?”

With everything that had happened to him lately, it was too big a coincidence.

“Do you even have something worth stealing?” I asked him.

He shrugged. “Not really. My Pokémon card collection, maybe.”

I suppressed a smile. “How about money?”

“I have it, but not at home.”

I looked at him, only to see him burying his face in his hands, looking fucking broken.

Like a shell without a pearl in it. Like a balloon without air in it.

And I couldn’t bear to see him like this.

I witnessed my fair share of bloody crime scenes and brain-splattered walls, but to see him broken was somehow worse.

“Hey,” I said, touching his arm. “It’s going to be okay.”

“I don’t think so,” Luz said, sniffling. “My life is a fucking mess.”

“No, it’s not. It just seems that way because you have been through a lot.”

He shook his head but said nothing.

“Hey,” I said, sterner this time. “What did I say?”

“You said I’m a pest,” he muttered.

I frowned in confusion. “What?”

“In the morning. You told Patricia that I’m a pest.”

I grinned. “Or a stray kitten. And kittens are cute.”

Instead of a reply, he turned toward me and rested his head on my chest. Or rather, he slammed his head into it, as if he'd misinterpreted the distance between us. At first, I didn’t know what to do.

I hadn’t been hugged by another human being since I lost my parents as a six-year-old.

Was it even a hug? His head on my chest was the only point of contact.

A part of his body was touching mine, but was it enough?

I cleared my throat, and, after a few moments, I raised my arm and flung it over his shoulder. It felt weird. A little uncomfortable even, but my arm kind of fitted there, so I left it there.

“It’s going to be okay,” I said, as Luz snuggled against me as if I were a cushion. “Tomorrow is a new day.”

“You think?” he said, burying his face in my neck.

What the hell was I supposed to say but lie?

“I know. It will be just fine.”