Bananapants: A Bonkers Romantic Comedy

“Sometimes you can only find Heaven by slowly backing away from Hell.”

― Carrie Fisher, Wishful Drinking

Ava, ever the antagonist, was the first to speak, responding to his flippant greeting with, “Hello, Creepy Henri.”

His cold eyes seemed to warm as they moved over her. Then they shifted to me. “Desmond. You’re here.” He sounded happy to see me. Like, genuinely happy I was there.

Lifting my hands to show him my palms and stepping closer to Ava, I asked, “What’s going on, Henri?” I needed a plan and I needed one fast.

‘Your girlfriend has been very, very bad.” Henri tilted his head to the side. “You should punish her.”

“What is it you think I’ve done?” Ava crossed her arms and she sounded almost bored, but I knew better. The less emotion in her voice, the more nervous she was.

I glanced at Grace. She wasn’t gagged but her hands and feet were tied with thin rope. She looked pissed.

“I received a very interesting letter from the IRS this last week. It seems I’m being audited.” Henri waved his gun around and I winced, attempting to decipher if the safety was on or off. “Do you know anything about that, Ms. Archer?”

“I’m a tax attorney, Mr. Wickford. Of course I know about being audited. But if you want to use my services, I have to tell you I’m not accepting new clients⁠—”

“Call them off.” Henri’s gaze and tone were ice-cold.

“And how would I do that?” Ava shrugged. “I don’t have a magic wand.”

“Because you’re the one who called in favors to make it happen,” he said like he believed these words.

He was wrong. I’d made it happen. I’d been the one to call in favors. Ava had nothing to do with it other than explaining how to go about filing for the summary judgment.

Ava sighed, like she was tired and bored and found him exasperating.

“Call them off,” Henri repeated, his voice low and lethal. “Un-ask for favors.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I can’t call the IRS and ask them to audit someone. I’d be disbarred.”

“Yes. You do know what I’m talking about!” he shouted, his eyes flashing with rage. “You’ve been plotting against me! I had no idea you were so vindictive, Ava. Another reason we could’ve been so good together.”

Ava pointed at him then at Grace. “Untie my sister or you’ll find out just how vindictive I can be.” She sounded unruffled but I could see her hands were shaking.

“No, no, no.” Henri pointed his gun at Grace and I tensed. “I’ll be taking this lovely lady with me.”

“Henri.” I stepped forward, closer to Grace. Worst-case scenario, I’d block the bullet with my body. “That’s kidnapping. You can’t take Grace,” I said like the airhead he thought I was.

“Do you think Ava will call the police on me, Desmond? No. If she was going to call the police, she would’ve done it after the regrettable incident at my office⁠—”

“You mean where your security team almost killed me?” Ava ground out, her eyes also flashing. She was angry, but she was more scared than angry.

He ignored her baiting. “Obviously, you don’t want police attention. So, no. I doubt you’ll be calling the police.”

“Okay, let’s take a minute here.” I took another step closer to Grace. I needed to stay between Grace and Ava so no matter who Henri shot I’d be able to block them. “Ava is my girlfriend. I’m sure if I ask her nicely, she’ll get the IRS to back off.”

Henri shook his head. “If only it were that easy. I need assurance, Desmond.”

“You’re an idiot, Mr. Wickford.” Ava also stepped closer to Grace and therefore me. “What’s to stop me from calling off the audit, and then—when you release Grace—just calling in these supposed favors and having them audit you again?”

I shot her a look but she didn’t see it.

“You’re right.” Henri raised his weapon and pointed it at Ava. I readied myself to jump in front of her. “I’ll leave your sister here, but you’re coming with me.”

I lifted my hands higher and stepped more fully in front of Ava. “Wait. Wait⁠—”

“Like hell I am,” she said belligerently.

One of the goons he’d brought along had already started untying Grace. Everything was happening very fast.

“Calm down. Everyone calm down.” I needed to stall. I needed to think. If it were just me, I would’ve already moved to disarm all four of them. But I couldn’t do that and risk Ava or Grace getting shot. “I’m sure we can figure this out.”

“Desmond. This woman has a vendetta against me.” Henri sounded horrified by what had happened to him, truly victimized. “I know you’re fond of her. But⁠—”

No sooner had the man unbound Grace’s feet and wrists did Ava’s sister elbow the man in the face with a crunching blow to his nose, swipe his gun, and shoot Henri in the stomach. He dropped his weapon and gripped his side, growling in rage.

I dove for the gun he’d dropped, keeping an eye on the other two guards who seemed shocked by the sudden violence coming from such a small package of a person. Like mother like daughter.

Before the other two men could reach for their weapons, Grace covered both guards, saying, “Don’t even think about it unless you want a bullet to the head.”

Ava, not hesitating, jogged forward and patted them down, taking their guns from their holsters and then checking their backs, arms, and legs. She did this so quickly, she was back across the room with a handful of weapons in less than twenty seconds.

“Are you those assholes who shot at me three weeks ago? Huh? I bet you’re those dumb assholes.” Ava’s voice shook, either with rage or adrenaline or fear, or all the above. “I seriously hate you guys.” She dumped their guns in the kitchen trash and pulled out her phone, her hands now openly shaking.

“These are the guys who shot at you?” Grace readjusted her grip on the gun she held. “Should I just shoot them? Or⁠—”

“Grace! Do not shoot at them,” Ava commanded. “Henri is already bleeding all over the carpet and that means we won’t get our deposit back. I don’t want dumb asshole blood all over the place. I mean, if they move, obviously shoot them. But not unless they move.”

“Fine.” Grace nodded once.

Meanwhile, I breathed a curse under my breath. I’d forgotten for a moment that I was dealing with Fiona Archer’s kids.

“How are you going to cover this up? You don’t want to call the police.” Henri, clutching his side, turned his pale face to Ava. He looked ashen, likely from shock and blood loss due to internal bleeding.

“Who says I don’t want to call the police?”

Henri’s eyes widened with the realization that he’d misjudged her.

“Hello? 911? We had a break-in, four guys all with guns. I’ll give you the address. We had to shoot one of them,” she said, voice trembling as she recited her address. I wanted to go to her, take her out of here, and hold her, but I couldn’t leave Grace to cover four people. I couldn’t leave Grace, period.

“Desmond,” Henri appealed to me. “Talk her out of this. She’s crazy. She’s obsessed with me.”

I shook my head, making my voice soft and scared. “Henri. I don’t even know what to say to you. I really feel like I didn’t know you at all.”

Grace snorted a laugh.

Ignoring her laugh, I went on dramatically, “If I can’t trust you, how can I help you?”

“Desmond.” He said my name like it was a warning.

It was too late, the sound of sirens from the street were already approaching.

From the corner of my eye, I saw the first guard Grace had disarmed reach behind his back. Shit, Ava hadn’t frisked him.

Taking no time to think, just to react, I was across the room before his arm moved another inch, disarming him with a spin behind his back and bringing the big man to the floor with my knee. “Don’t fucking move,” I warned. Although, I sort of hoped he did. The marks left by the rope tied around Grace’s wrists looked painful.

He nodded, groaning because I’d hit his kidney directly. Blows to the kidney hurt almost as bad as a sharp elbow to the nuts. Keeping my knee on the center of his back, I frisked him quickly, found his other weapon tucked in the back of his pants and a knife strapped to the inside of his calf. For some reason, the knife pissed me off more than the gun.

As I stood, I spun it between my fingers. Fidgeting and practicing with knives—my preference was jackknives—used to calm me and focus my mind during my early training days. Absentmindedly, still spinning the knife, I glanced up and scanned the room to ensure all the bad guys were still on the floor and found Henri gaping at me.

I shrugged. “I guess you never know what someone is capable of until what, or who, they love is threatened.” I gave him my best himbo smile. “Don’t you think, Henri?”