Delirious || Bozari

Chapter Fifteen: Boze

"He's here."

Boze put down her glass of wine at Rebel's words. "Where is he?"

"Parking lot, last time I checked," the red-head replied. "Coming up. Mayhem is escorting him."

"Well then," Boze smiled. "Let's go meet him, shall we?"

She walked over to the door of the meeting room and flung it open, stepping out into the main area of the Compound. She could tell that he was here before she saw him. All of her girls were clumped together, whispering. Men were a rare occurrence here, after all.

He was standing next to the fountain, Mayhem standing next to him, a hand on her gun for protection. In his arms was his son, Tyler, looking as cute as ever, though he had lost some of his baby fat since the last time she'd seen him.

"Vixen!" Lasercorn greeted, a smile lighting up his face. "It's been a while since our last appointment!"

"That it has," she smiled as she walked up to him. "I've missed poking around in your head."

"And I've missed yelling at you about it," he replied, holding out his hand. She took it and pulled him close to her, patting his back. He would've done the same, if it wasn't for the toddler in his arms.

"Hey there, Tyler," she said after she released his father, pinching his cheek. "Nice to see you again."

Tyler giggled. For someone who had been kidnapped from his mother, like, a week ago, he seemed unusually cheerful. Ah, to be young again. "Hi, Ms. Vixen."

She ruffled his hair and turned to look at Medic. "Could you take him to the nursery, please?"

Medic nodded and reached for him. Lasercorn didn't look happy about giving his son over to a stranger, but he let her take him anyways after telling the toddler to be on his best behaviour.

"Couldn't afford a babysitter?" Boze asked as soon as Medic was out of earshot.

"Can't afford much of anything, nowadays," he replied nonchalantly, sticking his hands in his pockets. "You said you wanted to talk?"

"Yes, I did," she responded, making a waving gesture to her girls. Despite their curiosity, they knew what that sign meant, so they dispensed to continue their whispered conversations elsewhere. "Follow me."

Boze led him to the meeting room and held the door open for him. He sat on the left couch, her on the right. She picked up her glass of wine.

"You're going to drink yourself to death someday," Lasercorn remarked.

"Then I'll go out doing what I love," she replied as she took a sip. "How's your son?"

"Surprisingly well," Lasercorn replied. "I thought he'd be a bit emotionally traumatized, but nope."

"And is he... normal?" Boze asked, rotating her wrist, making the wine in her glass sloosh against its walls.

"Well, I took him to an animal sanctuary once," Lasercorn explained as he surveyed the room. They could probably describe themselves as friends, but in their world, you could never be too sure. Betrayal was as common as breathing. "The only time he hurt one was when he hugged a cat too hard, and he cried about it for twenty minutes afterwards. If anything, he's too empathetic."

"Were you a big cat torturer as a child?" Boze asked. 

"Yes and no. When I was his age, I was still on bugs," Lasercorn replied. "I only started lighting cats on fire in my teens."

Oh, Lasercorn, ever the arsonist. That had always been his gimmick, his signature. When she had been his psychologist, she had read up on some of his crimes. Whatever was remotely flammable, he'd lit it on fire. She had to admire his creativity.