PROTECTING NEAL (#1 in the Odd Billionaire series)

THREE

Familiar hazel eyes stared at him and Neal felt his throat constrict further.

"Dottie." He breathed.

And then a gun fired. One of the laughing police, the one who had pointed at Neal and called him the 'stuttering guy', dropped to the ground like a piece of rock.

Hell broke loose.

The assassin was right behind them, standing at the entrance, holding up his gun straight at Neal. Neal didn't think he had mistakenly shot the police guy. Not with the way the assassin aimed at him calmly despite the cops screaming "Freeze!" And surrounding him.

To Neal, what happened after, happened in slow motion. Neal hazily saw the assassin's gun jerk in his hands. He heard a yell to his left and when he looked, Dorothy was launching her 170-pound body at him, knocking him out of the way. But not completely.  He felt the impact of the bullet as a searing pain tore through his left shoulder.

And as his head got lighter, blood roared through his ears, he fell to the floor. He saw Dorothy remove her helmet, clutching his shoulders, screaming and Neal smiled.

"Dottie," he whispered, raising a hand to touch her face, slipping into unconsciousness. "My Dottie." 
****
"Hello!"

That had been Dorothy Lane's first words to Neal Kowalski. She had stared up at him with dreamy hazel eyes, her small body wrapped in a little blue dress and her hands clasped behind her.

Neal had stared back too, blue eyes blinking rapidly as he tried to get the sun out of his face. Even back then, the glare of the bright orange star had hurt his eyes terribly. When he finally focused on who owned the tiny cute voice, he found out that two little girls were staring up at him.

Neal swallowed, his hands grew sweaty and a lump clogged his throat. He glanced around for his mama and felt his lips turn down as he remembered that she had left him with the park nanny.

"You don't have to be sad. We'll go away if you like." The other girl spoke up, glaring at him with dark green eyes and pulling lightly at her hair. She didn't want to be near him.

The odd kid.

Glumly, he nodded and toyed with the button on his shirt, afraid that if he spoke, it would be something horrid. His mama always did cry when he said things he shouldn't say. She would squint her eyes and look away, but Neal saw the droplets of tears slide down every time. And he always wondered what he said wrong.

"Oh be nice Stacey! Mama always tells us to be nice." Dorothy cautioned and when Neal looked up, he saw her grinning widely, proudly displaying her missing front teeth. Without realizing he snickered.

Horror crept up his spine and he raised his hands in apology. The little girl had tried to be nice and he had laughed in her face.
"I...I...Sorry."

Dorothy laughed at the funny look on the boy's face. His eyes looked as round as saucers and he looked a lot like he would pass out. She flaunted her toothless smile.

"Oh, it's okay. It works every time. Right, Stacey?"

Stacey on the other hand eyed the swings with much interest and looked like the last place she wanted to be was there.

"Can I go now? You've talked to him. Happy?" Stacey murmured, twining her blonde hair.

Neal thought that she looked quite pretty and wondered what she would do if he touched her beautiful hair. From the look on her face, she would probably bury his face in the sand.
Dorothy huffed and flailed her hands. "Go away then."

The pretty blonde girl happily skipped off leaving Neal alone with the bold girl that had approached him.

"I'm Dorothy." She announced with a flourish and took a seat on the bench.

"Do... Dorothy." He muttered, hoping that somehow she would react like his mother and run off. But Neal learnt and in the years that followed, he learned more, that the girl before him was the definition of the word 'surprises'.

She giggled. "You said, Dottie."

Embarrassed, his face flushed red and he looked away.

"I like it. Mama calls me Dora. Aunt Elma, she's the worst. She calls me Teatea. It sounds like pee and I hate it. Dada never calls me any funny names. He's all serious stuff."

"You... Talk a lot." He blurted and clamped a hand on his mouth. What was he doing talking, when he had made a pact with himself not to speak? "Stupid. Stupid."

"Do you have any toys? We can play." The little girl was undeterred. She blinked her dreamer eyes at him and the knot in his stomach loosened. She wasn't going anywhere. Others would have left a long while ago but she seemed so determined to stick around him.

"No." He grumbled, toying with the button on the collar of his shirt.

"Ooooh, that's pretty. It's shaped like love." She cooed, reaching out chubby hands to touch it.

Possessively Neal clutched it, turning so he could hide it from her. "It's ... It is heart-shaped. Not love. My mama made it for me."
And he cherished it with his entire being. No one could take it from him.

"You don't skip words anymore!" She exclaimed, clapping happily.

"Shut up." He mumbled, unable to come up with a good comeback.

"And it's love shaped. That's what my mama says." Dorothy defended. "The heart isn't like that."

"My... my mama says it's heart!" Neal defended. His mother had told him it was heart-shaped and it had to be heart-shaped. It couldn't be anything else.

Dorothy shook her head, her pigtails shaking with the movement. The boy was older but he lacked good sense. It was pointless to her, arguing with him on the obvious shape of the button.
She glanced at the far end of the park and saw her mama napping on a bench. She would have to ask her mama later why the boy called it a heart shape.

A squeal drew her attention and she watched Stacey soar to the sky on the swing. She jumped on her feet then.
"Let's go play on the swing."

His blue eyes flicked around indecisively. The less he moved, the less his chances of doing something that would make his mother cry. But the swing looked fun. He hadn't been on one in a long while.

"I'm...too old for swings." He said stiffly.

Dorothy laughed a breathy laugh. "How old are you? Are you bigger than mama?"

Neal puffed out his chest in pride and defiance. "I... I am t-ten years old. And... and in ten years, I'll be twenty."

The girl pursed her lips and scratched her chocolate brown hair. "I am just a wee smaller is all. I am seven."

"Seven is small. You... You're a baby." Neal sputtered and regretted it the moment the words left his mouth.

The defiant girl who had jumped every hurdle he had thrown her way, who persisted despite his actions, curled her lips in hurt and blinked rapidly. Her hazel eyes darkened and glistened in tears.

"I am not a baby!" She screamed, snatching his precious heart-shaped button and throwing it as far as her arms could.