“You’re telling me an awful lot of what I can and can’t do.”
“Do you want Ember to succeed in her chosen profession? Because this is what it’s going to take.”
“You have to promise me you or your people will keep me in the loop should things go to shit.”
“I’ll promise you that I’ll bring you in if you can help, but I can’t promise to divert resources to call you if we aren’t going to utilize your skillset.”
He stood from his office chair, walked to a credenza, and opened a cabinet that turned out to be a mini-fridge. He pulled two beers out, popped the tops, handed one to me, and sat in another of his visitor chairs.
“I think you’re good for her. She’s one of mine in more ways than one, but I don’t feel the need to threaten you about not hurting her. It’s clear you’re being responsible and giving her what she needs. It’s clear you’re as protective of her as I am. I need you to trust me to let her do her job and keep her safe. My people will know where she is every second.”
“Thanks for taking the time for this conversation. You’re right — I’d have given Ember a hard time if she’d come to me with it.”
“I haven’t told her how it’s going to be yet, so she doesn’t know she won’t have her personal phone on her. We’ll handle orientation early next week. She’s been doing ride-alongs with my people for a while, but you knew that.”
“Yeah. She says ya’ll handle a lot of divorce drama.”
“We do, and because of the volatility and irrational tempers we so often see, my people are never sent out alone when guarding someone due to a romantic breakup of any kind. She’ll always have backup.”
And that was a huge relief. “Good to hear. Like you said, she’s one of yours. Looks like we’re splitting custody of her. I’m okay with that.”
He tilted his head and I could sense the dragon more than the man. “Not quite yet. As far as I’m concerned, she’s still more mine than yours, but you’re on your way enough that I trust you to keep her safe when she’s with you.”
On the one hand, I wanted to argue, but on the other, I understood. Besides being the Dragon King, he’s also the Swan King, second in the hierarchy behind the Swan Queen. Besides Ember being his wife’s cousin and friend, he has a legitimate supernatural claim to her, while I hadn’t even given her a prop vest yet to openly declare her my ol’lady.
So, instead of arguing, I told him, “I know how close she is to Sophia, and to you too, for that matter. You’re more of a father to her than the one who raised her. Thanks for looking out for her.”
He took a swig of beer. “Are the plans to keep you at Blaze, or to move you into a management job somewhere else?”
That isn’t the sort of thing we tell outsiders, and yet, I understood why he wanted to know. I couldn’t give him the answer he wanted, but I gave him something. “For now, I’ve reached the point I can fill in as manager at Blaze when necessary. I’m not great at it since I tend to scare the patrons, but I’m capable of running a shift here and there. As we bring more people in and the load lightens, we’ll probably move people around a little.”
“How long until you can move back into your house?”
“Club business. I can’t give you a date. You obviously know we’re getting close.”
He nodded. “I have another caretaker I can put into the safehouse Ember’s been using once the two of you are in your house.”
“And if she isn’t ready to completely move out when that happens?”
“I won’t push the issue, but I believe my wife is pressing for her to commit a little more.”
I smiled. “Please give Her Majesty my thanks.”
“You should know that Ember’s a few years older than Sophia, and my wife looked up to her cousin most of her life. The two are quite close.”
“I know Ember’s glad they’ve had a chance to renew that relationship, but I didn’t understand the background, so thank you.”
“I’m assuming you won’t be able to tell Ember about specifics related to your club and their activities. I have something to talk to you about, but it’ll mean not telling her. I won’t ask you to lie if she point blank asks you, but you’ll need to assure me you won’t volunteer the information.”
“Information regarding...?”
“Her employment with me.”
“Then I give you my word.”
“Ember wants to be treated like a regular employee. No special privileges. That isn’t completely possible, of course, but I haven’t pointed this out to her. My wife feels the two of you need as much time together as possible, and I’m not inclined to argue with her. When possible, I intend to schedule her to work when you are. This will mean weekend nights, which is logical since she’ll have low seniority. It won’t always be possible. If a client who’s used to Ember needs her during the day on Monday, I’ll have to schedule her.”
“I appreciate that, from both of you. Please thank Her Majesty for me.”
He put a business card on the edge of his desk and pushed it to me. “The email address on the back of the card is the person who handles our scheduling logistics. If your schedule changes, please let her know. If Ember complains that she thinks we’re scheduling her when you’re off, don’t verify her musings unless she directly asks if I’ve told you I am.”
“You already know my schedule?”
“Yes.”
I didn’t bother asking him how he knew. It wasn’t likely he’d tell me.
“The MC bought the warehouses behind Blaze. Also, the out-of-business restaurant beside it.”
I lifted a brow and didn’t comment. We’d bought one as the RTMC, but the other went through one of our corporations and shouldn’t have shown up as an MC property.
“I’m assuming the warehouse will be used in conjunction with your construction company.”
Accurate, but I didn’t respond. We were buying heavy equipment, and we needed a place to put it. Also, we were going to buy some generic building materials direct from the manufacturer, and we’d have to buy it in bulk.
“The restaurant could just be ya’ll buying property cheap so you can sell it for a profit later, but I doubt it.”
I sat forward, took a picture of both sides of Aaron’s business card, and attached the images to his contact information in my phone.
“With your tracking program, she’s going to see you were here,” he noted.
McGyver had set our phones up so we could see everywhere the other person had been for the past three hours. All details older than that were wiped.
I stood and pocketed my phone. “I wasn’t aware it needed to be a secret meeting when you asked me to drop by, but it’s no big deal. I’ll just tell her you warned me that I won’t be able to see her location or contact her while she’s working.”
He walked me into the hallway and pointed me towards the front of the building. So much for me getting lost and exploring.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ember
My first weeks working as a security guard were a huge learning curve. Aaron and the others had stressed how important it is to make the client feel safe — nearly as important as actually keeping them safe. Some do this by not talking to the client at all, so they feel as if they are being protected by the kind of professional they see in the movies, which are often former special forces people who are all business and completely focused on their job.
I’d watched some video of Cora when she worked with a rock star though, and she had her own style. She held onto him most of the time — he rarely had his arm around her. Instead, she held his arm, kind of like they did in Victorian times. Or, I suppose that’s when the man offered his arm and the woman hung on it. This allowed her to move him as needed, and she could let go and grab her weapon without having to extricate herself. She talked a little, but mostly, she was the vapid girlfriend who wasn’t included in the conversation very often.
Mac showed me some footage of her with a famous female
singer, walking with her as if they were friends. She changed her looks up, so she fit the person she was guarding. If a star wants visible bodyguards, they’re wearing suits and look intimidating. Aaron would likely only use me when he needed a covert bodyguard.
My first assignment with Drake Security was to protect a female bank manager who was a week away from her divorce being final. Her husband had gone to jail for thirty days after he punched her in the face and she’d had to stay overnight at the hospital for observation. Her concussion, black eye, and sore jawbone were all better now, but she was terrified he’d come at her again. He’d pled guilty for a deal to only see a month of jail time, and his time inside seemed to have only pissed him off more. He blamed her for the abuse he took while inside.
Aaron assigned me the five in the evening until five in the morning shift, which meant Dementor and I were finally on a similar schedule.
I wore a suit, with my weapon in a harness under my jacket. Sloan was my shadow, and he was an actual former Navy Seal who fit the strong, silent type you expect when you think of bodyguards. So, while I met her at the bank, walked her out and down the street to her barre class, and then even worked out with her, Sloan shadowed us. I’d have to deal with the first twenty to thirty seconds of any problem, but then he’d be there to help. The idea was to protect her without having to resort to violence, and a big dude showing up is a lot more likely than a tiny female to stop someone by intimidation.
After the barre class, the client had dinner with a female friend, and I sat with them, watching our surroundings while they talked.
The friend wanted to know how I’d protect them, and asked if I had a gun.
“I don’t talk about operational security. Sorry.”
“But you’re smaller than us. He won’t be afraid of you!”
“She doesn’t want him to know she hired security. I don’t look like security, but I assure you I can handle him if he shows up. The two of you go back to your conversation now, so I can pay attention to our surroundings.”
He didn’t show himself until the third day I was with her. She didn’t need us while she was at the bank, since their regular security guards wouldn’t let him in due to the restraining order. He had an account at the bank, but the judge had been clear he’d need to use either the ATM or go to a different branch. So, I met her when she got off work and drove her to the park on this day. She wanted to run, so I ran with her.
We’d changed up her routine a little. Some things, like her barre class, were set in stone, but she usually ran at a different park. We were both surprised when we rounded a corner and her soon-to-be-ex-husband stood in the middle of the running trail.
I stepped in front of her and met his gaze. “You’re in violation of your restraining order, Mr. Miller.”
Sloan spoke into my earpiece. “On my way.”
I wore a tiny button cam, which would give our client evidence to use in court against him, but that meant I had to be triple careful about how I handled the situation.
“I need to talk to her. I lost my temper before.” He looked over my head at her. “I’m sorry. We need to work this out. She didn’t mean anything to me.”
“Clearly, it’s the vows you made to me that meant nothing. As my friend here said, you aren’t supposed to be near me. You should go.”
He tried to step around me, and I moved in front of him. When possible, you should get your adversary to lay a hand on you before you take them to the ground. It simplifies any possible legal action. If necessary to protect the client, I’d take action before he touched either of us, but I’d had plenty of training in how to make sure it looked right on the camera.
“Mr. Miller. I need to you step back, please.”
He focused on me as more of an annoyance than a threat. That worked in my favor.
“You’re the one who needs to step the fuck back. You don’t get between a man and his wife when they’re working shit out.”
He spoke with his mouth clenched. De-escalation wasn’t likely to work, so I decided to escalate the situation and keep him focused on me.
“Estranged wife. Actually, let’s go with soon-to-be-ex-wife, and it can’t happen soon enough, if you ask me. You no longer have a right to talk to her. Leave.”
He put his hand on my shoulder to move me out of the way or push me down. I’m not certain which, because I timed my strike and kick so they happened a few milliseconds after his hand landed on me. He clearly had zero experience with martial arts, because two strikes and one kick put him face down on the ground. I rode him down while pulling his right arm up behind him enough to hurt. He screamed in pain, but I told him, “It’s only uncomfortable if you fight me, Mr. Miller. I suggest you relax and wait for the police quietly, but you’re more than welcome to keep fighting me, if you prefer.”
I heard Sloan in my earpiece again. “Excellent work. I’ll stay in the distance so he won’t know I’m here.”
I looked up to the client. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. I’m glad you were here. Thank you.” She took her ponytail out and worked to put it back up. “You didn’t even need your gun. How did you do that?”
“I can recommend some martial arts classes you can take instead of your barre class, if you’d like to learn.”
“Yes. I think I would.”
Sloan came in my ear again. “This isn’t the way we keep clients, shortstuff.”
The police officer took a picture of my security credentials when he made his notes for the police report. The client pressed charges for stalking and for breaking the restraining order. The control room had me press charges for assault. I got the information from the officer that our tech guys would need in order to send him the video from my body cam. Thankfully, the officer was nice so it was a relatively painless process. For us, anyway. The asshole ex-husband got stuck in the back of the squad car to wait because he couldn’t control his mouth.
Because there was a possibility the asshole’s high-dollar attorney would get him out on bail, I didn’t think we’d alter her nighttime guard. I walked her in the house and let Sloan in the back door. The two of us cleared it despite the fact her husband was in jail. He might’ve hired someone to take her out, for all we knew. I was scheduled to stay until my shift was over, but an hour after we got her home, the control room said she’d be fine with just Sloan for the night. I was sent to Dementor’s house.
Yes, his house and not his apartment. I’d moved in with him full time by then — every stitch of clothes and every last shoe. The Drake safehouse had been fully furnished when I moved in, which had been helpful since I didn’t have any furniture to my name when Able was killed. Now, it was nice because we didn’t have two sets of dishes, too many sofas, or a bedroom suite I preferred to use over his. Well, I brought some of my baking equipment, but no dishes.
He turned one of his spare bedrooms into a closet for me. No, more than a closet. He had Frost’s people build cabinets and put in shoe racks and clothes racks and drawers. Also, they installed mirrors at the right angles so I could see my front, back, and side just by turning my head while standing still. I had more room than I needed, and I never in a million years thought that would happen.
He also had a jetted tub put into his master bath, just for me.
And a six-foot round throw rug in his huge man-cave was now what I had to stay on when he horsewhipped me. No need for a crude circle made with painter’s tape. Someday, I’d probably manage to stay on it, but I hadn’t yet. I was always offered a reward if I stayed on it and consequences if I didn’t, but he was never upset with me for failing. The consequences were often orgasm denial for a week or two. The last time had been a full month, but if I’d been able to pull it off, I’d have been able to orgasm whenever I wanted for three months — even during scenes.
The MC’s neighborhood had a huge wall around it. Getting through the gate required a PIN and a fingerprint. It was well outside of town, but the drive wasn’t any farther than the drive
to my old house had been. I’d gotten a little spoiled with the short drive to his apartment, but that was okay. I much preferred living here.
It was Wednesday, so D would be home between two thirty and three in the morning. I carried a glass of wine to the bathroom and took a long bath, but I texted him first. I had a great day. I hope you’re having one too.
He didn’t like it when things escalated to the point he had to throw someone out, and yet, he enjoyed tossing them out on their ass. I got it now. The goal was to de-escalate a situation so action wasn’t necessary, but when it became necessary… damn, it was fun. It wasn’t just the rush of taking him down, either. I’d helped a terrified woman not feel so afraid. I’d protected her. It felt good.
Sophia called after I was out of the tub, and I sent the secure video to the large screen television on the wall. D likes his tech toys.
“Is that one of Dementor’s shirts?” she asked.
“Yeah. He likes to see me in them, and they’re the perfect size to sleep in. How are my nephew and nieces?”
“Too smart for their own good, as usual. Aaron tells me you had some excitement. I read through your report and watched the video. You did good.”
“Thanks. I was pretty stoked. It felt good to protect someone and help make them feel safe.”
“And you aren’t even a dragon yet. That instinct will get stronger once we change you.”
“Really?” I hadn’t considered that. “I thought I’d be the same person, just two animal forms?”
“Oh, no. The dragon’s psyche becomes part of you. More territorial, more possessive, and it took me a while to gain control of my temper. Dragons are quick to anger, and I wasn’t used to that. I’d been raised to be on an even keel at all times.” Her smile grew even bigger and she added. “Also, dragons like shiny, pretty things. I can’t imagine what that’s going to do to your shoe and jewelry habit.”
“I haven’t bought new jewelry in months!” I protested with a laugh. I couldn’t say that about shoes, though. I’d bought new dressy sandals over the weekend, actually.
Dementor (Rolling Thunder MC Birmingham Book 1) Page 19
