BULLETPROOF HEART

HANDCUFFS AND HOUSE KEYS

BULLETPROOF HEART - CHAPTER 12: HANDCUFFS AND HOUSE KEYS

The sun was coming up over Port Harcourt.

For the first time in three weeks, Amara wasn't running. She was sitting on the hood of the Hilux, wrapped in Marcus's jacket, watching as Agent Rousseau put Price in the back of the Air Force truck. Caleb was sitting next to her, with a bottle of water, alive.

Marcus stood a few feet away, on the phone. Agent Rousseau was on speaker.

"Dele Cole was picked up at 6:02 AM at the airport," Rousseau said. "Private jet to Dubai. We stopped him at the stairs. The drive had everything — the transfers, the contracts, the videos. It's over, Marcus. He's done."

Marcus closed his eyes. Relief hit him harder than any punch from Price ever had.

"It's really over."

"It's over," Rousseau said. "Come back to base. You all need a debrief, and a real shower."

Chief Opobo walked over with two steaming meat pies from one of his men.

"My daughter says she wants a bookstore," Chief said to Marcus, handing him a pie.

"She deserves a library," Marcus said.

"She deserves peace," Chief said. Then he looked at Marcus, really looked at him. "You gave her that. Even when you were being stupid and leaving notes like a cowboy."

"Chief—"

"My name is Samuel," Chief said. "When we are not being shot at, you call me Samuel. Or Papa, if you prefer."

Marcus choked on his meat pie. Amara pretended not to hear, but her smile was huge.

"What?" Samuel said gruffly. "You think I didn't see you two on that small bed? I have cameras in that infirmary. For mosquitoes."

"PAPA!"

"I turned them off!" Samuel said quickly. "At 10 PM! When you... when you put your head on his chest. A father knows when to not see."

Amara threw a meat pie at him.

On the drive back, Caleb fell asleep in the back seat. Amara leaned against Marcus, who was driving now, one hand on the wheel, one holding hers.

"You never answered my question," she said softly.

"Which question?"

"In the infirmary. You told me you wanted to be a carpenter. I said you will build us a house. You didn't say yes."

Marcus was quiet for a long time, watching the road.

"Amara Opobo, will you let me build you a house? Small. One floor. Big windows for your bookstore. A workshop in the back where I can be grumpy and make you bookshelves."

Amara sat up.

"Marcus Thompson, is that a proposal?"

"That's a building proposal," he said, nervous. "A house proposal. The other proposal I need to do properly, with a ring, and without my brother snoring in the back and your father listening."

From the back seat, without opening his eyes, Chief said: "I am not listening. And she will say yes to both."

Amara laughed, tears coming again.

"Yes," she said. "Yes to the house. Yes to the bookshelves. Yes to the other one when you get the ring."

Marcus lifted her hand and kissed it.

Bulletproof heart, finally, not bulletproof anymore.

Just beating. Fast. For her.

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*END OF CHAPTER 12*