Page 61 of Bulletproof Love

By the time I leave the bathroom, the two workers are walking out the door. “Where the hell are they going?” I ask Leon, who’s locking up behind them.

He shrugs and lets loose a tired sigh. “They need to order parts, apparently.”

“They were here for thirty seconds. How could they know that?” I glance over at Falin, feeling awful that she’s still out of a bedroom. Although we seem to have claimed the couch as our own, literally and figuratively.

“I’d fix it myself if I knew a damn thing about plumbing,” he said.

I notice the shadows under his eyes and the way his shoulders sag. “Did you get any sleep yet?”

“A wink or two.” He won’t meet my eyes, so I’m guessing that’s a lie. “My father called this morning while I was out. He’s in town and wants to have some ‘father-son bonding time.’”

I stop halfway into the kitchen. “He’s in New York?”

“That would be what I meant by in town.”

I’d give him shit for being a know-it-all if he wasn’t so miserable. His father could win an award for biggest prick in England. “I’m sorry, man. Can you blow him off?”

I grab what I need to brew a pot of coffee while listening. “I wish, but unless we want to get cut off, I need to keep kissing his ass.”

The coffee machine’s hiss is like sweet music to my ears. “How long will you be gone?” Last time he had to meet up with his father for “dinner” he was gone for three days, paraded around to every colleague like a prized horse. Nothing could be further from reality though. Leon will never be good enough for his father. The man will always pick him apart, and who knows what else, until Leon can shut him out for good.

“I won’t let him manipulate me this time. Just dinner, that’s it. We have too much happening.” I pour his coffee first, grab the creamer from the fridge and slide both across to him.

“If you need backup, I’ll be there in a second.”

He nods, watching the steam rise from his mug. “I know.”

The apartment comes alive from the smell of coffee, I guess. Blake and Damon emerge from their room, looking fresh and rested. Minutes later, Kayla and Mischa’s door opens, which is perfect timing. I slip in to grab a T-shirt and some sweatpants, coming back to find Falin sitting up on the couch, the blanket covering her lap.

Our eyes lock, and I take in the way her breath catches. I’m so gone for her, it’s wild. I busted Damon’s balls for being obsessed with Blake not two months ago, and here I am, googly eyed from one look.

“We need to talk.” We both turn toward Blake’s voice to see her standing in front of Mischa. She’s clearly upset, but she’s standing her ground. I’m proud of her. “There was so much going on last night, and you were clearly dehydrated, and well… What the hell were you doing there, Mischa? Tell us everything.”

With the eyes of everyone in the apartment on her, Mischa’s face turns red. I can see her facade start to crumble, and in seconds she runs to the bathroom, shutting the door.

“Fuck,” Damon says, pulling his hand through his hair. He squeezes Blake’s shoulder and heads for the front door. “I need a smoke. I’ll be right back.”

“I can understand her not wanting to talk,” Kayla says, surprising me. She’s been pretty quiet since that first night. Some of her confidence must be returning. “I don’t know her, but if she came from the same situation I did, she’ll need time.”

Blake nods, collapsing on the couch next to Falin. “I understand that, but it’s different with her. She’s more involved.”

“Plus, we need to get whatever information we can from her, as fast as possible,” Falin adds.

“Maybe she’ll talk to me,” I offer. Falin pins me with a hard gaze. “People tell me things. I don’t know, I guess it’s my charm.” At that, Falin and Blake both snort. “It’s worth a shot.”

“Go ahead,” Blake says. “You’re doing me a favor, because I can barely stand to look at her. Brennan…” She trails off, her voice faint. Falin pulls her into a hug.

“Go,” Leon says. “See if you can get her to talk.”

I grab a cold bottle of water from the fridge and head to the bathroom, knocking gently. “Hey, it’s Jasper. Can I come in?”

No answer.

I wait for a moment. I know it’s not the same, but I remember how I felt when my parents told me about Bailey’s abduction. I didn’t know how to talk to people about it. Every thought was a tangled mess of fear, fury, and grief. I’m not sure what Mischa knows about her father. She could be just as innocent in all of this as we are. For some reason, I want to give her the benefit of the doubt.

I knock again. “I’m not upset with you. I just want to talk.”

She finally cracks the door enough to let me see her tear-stained face. I gently push it open and squeeze inside.

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