Scott followed his brother out to the small lot behind the pub, only half hoping that he hadn't gone and done something stupid like walk off by himself to parts unknown. To Scott's half-hearted relief, he hadn't. Instead, he was standing by Scott's car, smoking a cigarette, pacing around, and talking to himself.
"Damn it, Doug! Why the hell did you go off like that? Of course the guy is suspicious. Hell, I would be. Ah, it's not like this is the first thing you've screwed up lately."
"Hey, Doug?" Scott said, catching his half-brother completely off-guard.
"Oh, hey, Scott, you damn near gave me a heart attack!"
"I think those cigarettes are a bit more dangerous than I am."
"Yeah, that's the truth. It's a nasty habit." Doug dropped the cigarette, then stamped it out with the sole of his Italian square-toed oxford. "Hey, I wanted to apologize for making a scene in there."
"No, I was rude, and I had no right to be."
"Now, Scott, you're looking out for your family and friends. I get it. I know that I dropped a heavy load on you today."
"I admit, it was a bit of a shock."
"Look, I never meant to cause any disruption. It's just that things haven't been going my way lately."
"Tell me about it."
"And I ain't getting any younger. A man starts to think back on his life. I've known success, but it's come with a heavy price. Now, I have nothing and nobody. I was hoping..."
"Hoping what?"
"Ah, hell. I was hoping that maybe I could finally find a place to settle down and call home, you know? Ah, maybe it was too much to ask."
Scott rested his hand on Doug's shoulder. "Doug, I can understand. I understand not feeling like you belong anywhere, like there's no one who can understand what you're going through. Believe me, I get it, more than you know. And I understand wanting to make that connection to someone, to anyone. But Doug?"
"Yeah?"
"I am going to need a little bit of honesty here."
"Ah, Scott!"
"No, Doug, I'm going to need you to be truthful with me. Please, Doug, please tell me, are you in some kind of trouble?"
"Scott, I'm fine, really!"
Scott pulled his hand from Doug's shoulder. "And again you refuse to be honest with me."
"What do you want me to say, Scott? Do you want me to say that okay, I may have made a few mistakes in my time? That I've had my share of legal troubles? Is that what you want?"
"I want the truth! I want to know that whatever you've gotten yourself involved in won't show up at my mother's front door! I want to know that she's safe. Is that too much to ask, Doug?"
"What do you know, Scott?"
"I know that you're in trouble, Doug. Big trouble. I don't know what kind of trouble, and I don't even care. I just don't want you bring it into my mother's house."
Doug shook his head. "I can't get away from it, can I? I just can't get away from my past. Well, look, Scott, it's been great, but it's obvious I made a mistake. I'm sorry to have troubled you. Maybe I should go."
Doug started to walk away. "Wait, Doug!"
"What? What is it, Scott?"
"I can protect you."
"You? Seriously?"
"Yes, seriously."
"Wait, wait, wait. Just a couple seconds ago, you were worried that I was endangering your mother. Now you're saying you want to protect me? You?"
"Yeah," Scott knew that he probably could not be able to come up with a likely-sounding reason for his change of heart nor for his confidence in his ability to provide protective services. "I do, Doug, and I can."
"Okay," Doug, of course, didn't quite believe that his newly-found brother could keep him safe from much of anything (and to be fair, if Scott didn't know what he was, he wouldn't have much confidence in his abilities either), "So, you will keep me safe."
"I'll try the best as I can, anyway."
"So, you will keep me safe."
"You already said that."
"Okay. Are you secretly like a SEAL or marine or army ranger?"
"No, I never served."
"Police? Professional bodyguard?"
"No."
"Have you ever taken any martial arts?"
"Actually, I'm well versed in several martial forms."
"So, are you like a ninja, or something like that?"
Scott had to chuckle. "No, I'm not a ninja."
"Then what can you do to keep me safe, Scott? Not saying that I'm in that much trouble, but I'm just having a hard time believing you would be capable of keeping me safe. No offense intended."
"Uh, offense taken. I'm serious, Doug. Whatever the problem is, I can help you."
"Sure, you can."
"But I need to know what that trouble is."
"Oh, Scott!"
"Doug, if I am going to protect you, then I need to know what it is I'm protecting you from."
"Okay! Okay. After fleeing New York..."
"Fleeing?"
"Bad choice of words. After I left Wall Street, like I said earlier, I ended up in Mexico. I thought of just laying low for a while and taking it easy. But the lure of easy money got to me. So, I hooked up with this guy named Ochoa. This guy had access to a ton of money, and I kind of convinced Ochoa to re-invest that money in, shall we say, creative ways."
"So, you ripped him off?"
"Ouch! Kinda judgmental there, don't you think?"
"Did you or did you not steal from this Ochoa guy?"
"No! I didn't steal anything from him!"
"Oh, good."
"No, we, together, ripped off a guy named Calderon."
"Okay, this is not sounding good."
"Anyway, I had to leave Mexico in a hurry."
"This is getting worse. Excuse me for being afraid to ask this question, but who, exactly, is this 'guy' Calderon?"
"Ramon Calderon."
"Okay, and who is he?"
"He's the head of the Calderon cartel, the most powerful narcotics cartel in Northern Mexico."
Scott heard it; he couldn't unhear it. His brother, who he just met, had a hit out on him from one of the most powerful narcoterrorists in the world. Scott put his hands to his head and began to rub his temple. "Oh shit."
"Hey, there's nothing to worry about, Scott!"
"Nothing to worry about?"
"No! I covered my tracks pretty good, besides, I'm a long, long way from Monterrey!"
Scott was almost furious at his brother's nonchalance. "Wow. You're sure taking this well!"
"How else can I take it? Look, Scott, do you really think that Ramon Calderon is going to go out of his way to take care of little ol' me? For a few measly dollars? Here, in the good ol' US of A? Now, that would be dedication, wouldn't it?"
"Seriously, Doug? Your life is in danger and you're making it into some kind of joke!"
"Well, what do you want me to do, Scott? I made a bad call. I've made a few of those. But we have to be out of harm's way here, don't you think?"
"You have no idea what it's like to have a price on your head, to endanger everyone around you because of something you got involved with. I do. It's nothing to make light of."
Doug snorted. "Uh, you've been in danger, Scott? You?"
"You don't know me, Doug, so I'll forgive your cynicism. I have been in danger and I have been the danger. The hows and whys, well, let's just say they aren't important right now. But I know what it's like to be in danger, and I know what it's like to need help. I've learned to ask for that help, and appreciate it when it's offered."
Doug shook his head. "Not that I'm doubting your bodyguarding skills, but I'm finding this all kind of hard to believe. But I appreciate the gesture, really I do."
"Let me put it this way: I'm willing to give this 'brother' thing a chance. I'm willing to give you a chance, if you'll let me."
"That's all I'm asking," Doug said as he threw his arms around Scott, enveloping him in a tight embrace that would have actually hurt, were he still mortal. Scott reciprocated, patting Doug gently on the back.
"Okay, okay. Let's not make a scene of it."
It's funny, the things you are able to notice when you're a vampire. Scott's senses, of course, were already heightened. Now, they seemed to be working overtime. He was able to cancel out most of the usual background noises – cars driving by, people walking and talking, even a TV playing in a house on Yamhill street, which was right behind the parking lot. But there were a couple odd noises he couldn't quite cancel out, like an odd clicking noise coming from the east down Yamhill street. East, and up, on top of one of the houses down the block. Scott thought perhaps it was a small animal running on some metal vent. He looked in the direction from which the odd sound issued, and a brief look was all he needed, as Scott noticed what could only be the silhouette of a rifle equipped with a sound suppressor and the faint glint of a scope mounted on top. The figure behind the rifle was completely clothed in black, including a balaclava covering the persons' face. Sniper!
Immediately he took action. Scott shoved Doug out of the way and down to the ground as the rifle fired, a single projectile leaving its muzzle, making its way across the street, between a couple of the trees that marked the southern boundary of the lot, and into Scott's head. Now, he'd been shot in the head before; it wasn't an experience he cared to repeat. The bullet tore through his brain and exited, traveling into the lot and eventually striking the rear wall of the building that housed the pub, pockmarking it but doing no further damage. Scott, of course, had a splitting headache, but that soon passed. He put his hand to his head; the wound was quickly healing, and just in time, as Doug turned around to glare at him.
"Dude! What the hell was that all about?"
Well, you see, a sniper tried to take you out, but instead hit me, in the head, and since I'm a vampire, I was able to shake it off. But I did save your life, so maybe you should thank me. Scott decided that perhaps he should not let on either that he was a vampire or that an assassin just tried to kill him, so instead he came up with something on the fly. Yes, as usual, it was unsatisfyingly stupid. "Horseplay!"
"What? Horseplay? Seriously?"
"Yeah! You know, I missed all that stuff about having a brother, like, you know, horseplay! You know, like brothers are supposed to do with each other!"
"Dude, that wasn't horseplay, that was assault!"
"Well, let me make it up to you by buying you a beer. Like, right now."
"Uh, well, yeah, sure."
Scott looked toward the roof from which the sniper's bullet came. The sniper was no longer there. Still, it didn't pay to stand around. He grabbed Doug's arm and pulled him from the ground. "I know! Let's run! Gotta get that beer while it's cold, right?"
"Uh, right," Doug said, as Scott dragged him toward the back entrance of the bar.
*
"Ah, so they have returned!" Jeremiah said.
"So, did you guys get everything sorted out?" Dawn asked.
"Uh, yeah," Scott responded, "Dawn? We need to talk. You, me, and Jeremiah."
"Oh, I see how it is," Doug said, "I'm not one of the cool kids yet, huh?"
"Now, just eat your fish and have some beers. We have wedding related stuff to talk about."
"What? Now?"
"Yes! Right now! Very important wedding related stuff!" Scott took ahold of Dawn's hand and motioned for Jeremiah to join them under that old British army recruitment poster across the room from their table. Once there, Scott kept one eye fixed on Doug as he drank his beer and ate his fried fish.
"What's up?" Dawn asked.
"Shit just got real. Someone just tried to kill Doug out in the lot."
"How?" Jeremiah asked. "What happened?"
"Sniper, from about a block down the street. If I hadn't pushed Doug out of the way, the bullet would have gone through his head instead of mine."
"Oww, poor baby!" Dawn touched Scott's forehead. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, it wasn't a warhead, so all I am right now is slightly annoyed."
"Did you see who did it?" Jeremiah asked.
"They were totally covered in black. Anyway, they got the hell out of there right after they shot me. I guess they didn't want to stick around."
"It's good you're watching out for him, then," Dawn said. Scott had to agree, although reluctantly. Bodyguarding his newly-discovered half-brother was not a job he really had time for, let alone even wanted. But Scott supposed that if anyone was going to look out for his older half-brother, it had to be his younger brother, the vampire.
"Yeah, I guess. I'm still not comfortable with having him near my mother, but I can't think of anywhere else to put him. The backyard shed, maybe."
"Scott!" Dawn growled.
"Just kidding!"
"Anyway, Scott," Jeremiah said, "You know that if you need any kind of help, you should not hesitate to contact me. You know this, right?"
"I know," right then Scott got another really bad idea. "Hey, Jeremiah, buddy?" he put his arm around Jeremiah's broad and muscular shoulders. "You know, it would be nice to have a second set of eyes on Doug, and I was wondering if maybe you'd be interested in leaving that cold basement at Ministry for a while and moving in with mom and me and Doug. Temporarily, of course. That is, unless you have better company to spend time with."
"Better company? Better company? Why would you think... no, I don't have better company to... no, I have no better company than you, Scott!"
"I know, Jeremiah, I know."