Kiss Kiss Bang (Iron-Clad Security)

by Sidney Halston

  She should have been all over the news for her innovative campaign strategy and for her budget plan, instead she was all over the news because of a bullshit vandal. “Just politics,” she said, trying to soften the situation and not wanting to worry her friend.

  “Come on, Livie. Who do you think you’re talking to? It’s not just politics. This is getting out of hand.” She took the wine from Olivia’s hand. “You’re shaking.”

  It was intense, and in between emails and phone calls she was trying to come up with a reason why someone would do or say this to her.

  “Why don’t you go take a hot bath and I’ll stay until you’re all settled. Soph is upstairs watching HGTV. That girl is something else.” Winnie shook her head and laughed.

  A hot bath sounded like heaven. She took her wine and went upstairs to try to forget what the hell had just happened.

  * * *

  Olivia woke up startled and confused.

  How had she ever found those door chimes melodic?

  She groaned and sat up, wiping her palm down her face and looking around her darkened room. What time was it? Hell, what day was it?

  Sophie!

  That was the first thought that crossed her mind as the door chimes rang again. In a state of confusion she turned to see Sophie sleeping soundly next to her in bed. Then she ran to the front door, unthinking. As soon as she opened it she startled for the second time in the last two minutes.

  “Uh . . .” was all she said as she looked at Joey. She grabbed his arm, turned it, and looked at his watch, causing him to chuckle. “Shit, it’s midnight.”

  She vaguely remembered saying goodbye to Winnie, then watching TV in bed with Sophie. At some point, they both must have fallen asleep. “What are you doing here?”

  She reached up to her hair, which was surely a rat’s nest. And oh God, what was she wearing? An old threadbare T-shirt from the community college she’d attended part-time determined to get a college education. Tugging down the shirt to cover herself, she let him in.

  “I was out of town on a job. I got here as soon as I could. I called but you didn’t answer so I came straight over,” he said, shutting the door behind him.

  She titled her head and furrowed her eyebrows, still confused.

  “You were on the news? The vandalism?”

  Of course. He saw it, everyone saw it.

  “Make yourself at home. Give me a second.” Still in a state of disarray, she jogged to her room and grabbed a robe and her phone.

  “Shit. I didn’t charge it. It’s dead,” she commented as she walked back to the living room to deal with the gorgeous man.

  His wide back, which looked like an upside down triangle, was taut against a black polo, and he was looking at a framed photo of her with her daughter. Placing it back down, he turned around just as she sat down on her sofa and gestured for him to sit too. “Why are you here again?”

  He scooted closer. “You look tired, Livie.” He ran this thumb across the skin under her eye.

  “My daughter’s been giving me hard nights, and between that and work and then the stress of today—” She yawned mid-sentence. “I guess it all just hit me at once.”

  He brought her hand to his mouth, and kissed her wrist softly. “I’m worried. This is more than an angry voter.”

  “I know.” And she did know that. It was obvious that she was in some sort of danger. The degree of the danger, she wasn’t sure.

  “You didn’t even look before you opened the door.”

  “You startled me. I was confused and half asleep. I’m normally very careful.”

  He looked around as if someone would just materialize. “Where’s Tom?”

  “Tom? I don’t know. At his home? It’s the middle of the night.”

  “Why isn’t he here with you and Sophie? He should be here.” Joey stood and walked to the back wall where there were two sets of French doors and wiggled them. “Has he looked at these? Are they impact-resistant? Are they connected to your alarm system?

  “Jo—”

  “How up-to-date is your alarm? Is it monitored? Are you consistent about arming it? It should always be armed, Livie.”

  “Joey!” She placed her hands on his shoulders. “Stop. I don’t know the answers to those questions. Until yesterday or early today or whatever, I wasn’t even convinced I needed security.”

  “I hope you are now.”

  She let go of him and moved back to the couch. “Yes. I think so. I mean, I don’t know what’s going on, but that was scary. And at the least, I need someone better than Tom.”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay,” she said, awkwardly.

  So . . . was he staying? Leaving?

  For the first time, she noticed the scruff on his face was thicker, and the short hair on his head was longer. And he too had bags under his eyes. “You look tired too.”

  Stifling a yawn he responded. “Yeah. Had a job in Tallahassee. Drove up last night, came right down. Haven’t slept much.”

  She stood up and stretched a little. His eyes roamed down her body and she tightened the robe self-consciously. God, his eyes alone were enough to set her on fire. She couldn’t help but think of the way his lips and hands felt around her. “So . . .”

  He sat back comfortably. “I think I’m going to stick around.”

  “Pardon?”

  Causally, as if he’d been there a thousand times, he put his boots on the ottoman and one of her throw pillows behind his neck.

  “On your way back to bed, could you hit the lights?”

  Had she been hit on the head? Was she understanding him correctly? Or maybe he was the one not making any sense. “Are you . . . are you sleeping here?”

  He yawned again and waggled himself deeper into the couch. “Trying to.”

  “But . . . wait, what?”

  “I like you. I want you safe. You have a daughter. You need to keep her safe. I’m the guy who’s gonna do both those things tonight. But now, I’m tired. So hit the lights on your way out and make sure you armed your alarm, which we’ll discuss tomorrow.”

  Damn him. He’d brought up the safety of her daughter.

  “I don’t like being steamrolled.” She scowled and pushed his legs off the ottoman, feigning annoyance. “But . . . thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, darlin’. Sleep tight.”

  “’Night, Joey.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  BREAKING NEWS: Olivia Russo, current frontrunner in the race for Governor of Florida, was terrorized after a campaign speech in Miami. Photos of Russo after her vehicle was vandalized show a shaken and pale Russo hiding in a hotel lobby as her security team dealt with the situation. An investigation is underway and . . .

  Joey hadn’t been lying when he said he’d been absolutely exhausted. The last forty-eight hours had been hectic with a new job checking the integrity of the cybersecurity of a large financial institution. It had taken him all of three minutes to break through their firewall, wiping the cocky smiles off the faces of the arrogant sonsofbitches who’d installed it. He’d been hired to test it, but then the president of the bank immediately hired him, at double his usual rate, to repair the faulty gaps in the system and consult the other firm.

  He’d been ready to start on the second phase of the install when Annie, his sister and employee of ICS, had texted him the link to the breaking news of what was happening in Miami with Olivia. Immediately he’d called Olivia and when she hadn’t answered her phone, he’d quickly given the firm detailed instructions of what needed to be done. He’d talked them through most of it during his seven-hour drive back down.

  Normally, he’d have called one of his guys at ICS to check in on things, but he couldn’t help feeling protective of, if not responsible for, Olivia. Even if they hadn’t had a conversation about it, even if she didn’t realize it, and even if it was too soon, she was his and he was the only one who would be protecting her. So he’d had his employees monitor her house until he was able to get to her.
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  Maybe it was the way she’d melted in his arms. It was probably arrogant of him to think he was the only man to make her feel this way, but she didn’t seem like the kind of woman who let her guard down and let a man touch her in an elevator or go racing in a go-cart. Hell, there was not one single photo of her with a man since Neil had passed away, and even in the few photos he’d found of her and Neil they looked more like friends than lovers. Everything with her was proper and calculated. Neil at her left, her manicured hands on her lap or by her side. No cute hand-holding or stolen glances. At least not in any of the photos he’d found. For God sake, she didn’t even let her hair down—literally.

  Again, it was arrogant for him to make that call from just a few photos, but there was something—somewhere inside he felt as if it had been as different for her as it had been for him.

  Maybe it was wishful thinking, but fuck, he really wanted it to be different for her too. Which is why he was now camping out on her uncomfortable sofa instead of at home in his soft bed.

  With Olivia, he had to proceed with caution, he’d seen that from the first day. She wanted him, but she didn’t want to want him. She needed help, but she didn’t want to need help. So he decided he wasn’t going to give her many opportunities to think or to second guess anything. As soon as she had gone to bed, he jumped up from the couch and did a quick search and lock up of the downstairs of her house. Once he felt that it was as secure as it could be, he took out his Sig, the metal of his weapon digging against his ribs, and slid it under a cushion. Then he put his feet back up and closed his eyes, knowing he’d be up in a few hours—like always.

  Tom had better be there bright and early, because Joey had a lot to say to him. What had gone down today in her car? He should have never let that shit happen.

  And her face on the photos he’d seen from his phone, ashen and alarmed—he didn’t want to see that look on her again.

  These were the thoughts swarming his mind as he drifted off to sleep.

  * * *

  Like clockwork, Joey woke up at a quarter to six. Even if he wanted to sleep in, his eyes popped open at the same time every morning. It was a big fucking parting gift from the United States military.

  As he yawned and stretched his arms, he opened his eyes and immediately yelled like a fucking little girl. “Jesus Fucking Christ!”

  And speaking of little girls . . .

  A small girl with dark brown hair tousled all over the place, with cute freckles splayed around her nose and cheeks and the same plump lips as her mother, sat with her legs crisscrossed right in front of him, eating Cheerios straight from the box, just staring at him.

  How long had she been staring?

  He normally stirred with even the slightest noise, but this little girl could’ve been there for hours and he hadn’t noticed.

  “You said a bad wod.”

  Clutching his heart, which felt like it was about to beat right out of his chest, he dropped his legs to the floor.

  “Sorry ’bout that. You scared me.”

  She just kept staring. Quite frankly, it was scary.

  She just continued to look at Joey as if trying to figure him out. “Who are you?”

  He sat up now that his heart rate was under control and extended his hand to her. “You must be Sophie. I’m Joey. I’m a friend of your mom’s.”

  She didn’t shake his hand back and he wasn’t sure if it was because she didn’t like him or maybe she was scared of him. He was, after all, a stranger. “You like lizards?”

  He tilted his head. “Lizards? Uh . . . yeah. I guess.”

  She clapped excitedly before hopping off the coffee table. “Yay! Me too.” Then as if she’d known him her whole life she grabbed his hand and pulled him into the kitchen. “You like Cheerios?”

  He shrugged. It had been a long time since he’d eaten Cheerios. “Yeah, sure.”

  She reached into the box and took a handful and handed it to him, which made him laugh. “How about we get some bowls?”

  “Mum likes bowls too.”

  He opened drawers until he found what he was looking for and then put the handful of cereal into one and then poured some more into the other.

  She sat across from him, swinging her legs back and forth. “Cheerios is your favorite cereal?” she asked.

  “I’m more of a Cinnamon Toast Crunch kind of guy.”

  “What’s cimonon? What is the cartoon on the box?”

  Slowly, he repeated the word. “C-i-n-n-a-m-o-n. It’s a spice, I can’t really describe it. But it’s good. I can’t remember if it has a cartoon. How about I bring you a box next time I see you.”

  “Good idea. I want to taste cimonon.”

  He was about to correct her when he Olivia walked in.

  “Good morning. I can’t believe I didn’t hear her wake up.” She kneeled in front of her daughter and kissed her forehead.

  “He said a bad wod, Mommy,” Sophie said, pointing at Joey.

  “You little snitch,” he teased her, then looked back up at Olivia. “I was sleeping. Woke up, and she was staring at me, The Ring style.” When she looked at him questioningly he continued. “You know. The horror movie about the little demonic girl that crawls out of the television in pajamas with her long hair down. That was your daughter.”

  Olivia crossed her arms over her chest. “Did you just call my daughter a demon?”

  “She almost gave me a heart attack,” he said incredulously.

  “Mum, he said he was going to buy me cimonom cereal.”

  “Cinnamon,” Joey corrected.

  “Oh, the one with all the sugar. I’m looking forward to that.” She smiled. “So, I guess you met my daughter.”

  “Sure did. She loves lizards and Cheerios.”

  Olivia laughed. “Yes, she does. Not sure why, but she does. She asks everyone about it.”

  “Okay.” Sort of random, he thought. Kind of like when she’d asked him about vegetables when they’d met.

  “I’m making coffee. Help yourself. I’m going to go up to change.”

  “Where’s Tom,” he asked.

  “Should be here soon,” she answered.

  He groaned loudly.

  “I know. I know. He’s terrible. I have to have a talk with him,” she said, taking a step toward the stairs. His eyes roamed her bare legs.

  He took a step so he was right by her ear and whispered, “Yes, he’s terrible. But also, I’m not thrilled about another man seeing your bare legs or ass.”

  She scowled, then playfully shoved his shoulder and ran up the stairs. One thing he did notice was that she didn’t pull down the bottom of her shirt. Which, for some reason, gave him hope that she was starting to feel the pull between them.

  Joey went to the bathroom to freshen up before walking back to the kitchen where Sophie was still eating. He sat back down to finish his cereal.

  He smiled at her because she was adorable now that she wasn’t scaring the shit out of him. He began to eat as he watched her watching him. “You need milk. Milk gives you muscles,” she said, flexing her tiny bicep.

  “You saying I need more muscles, freckles?”

  She squished her face together. “Daddy Pig has big huge muscles!” She opened her arms wide as she said it. Then she walked to the refrigerator and hefted the gallon of milk out. Joey grabbed it before she dropped it all to the floor. He wasn’t sure how much she weighed, but the gallon looked bigger than she did.

  “Well, I certainly want to look as big as Daddy Pig, whoever that is.” He poured some milk into the bowl and they ate breakfast together as she regaled him with stories about a pig and its family.

  He saw her having a hard time finishing the little bit of milk in the bowl.

  “Look,” he gestured and brought up the bowl to his mouth and slurped it down like a drink.

  “Uh oh! My mum don’t like dat.”

  He wiped his chin.

  “Yeah, we’re not savages here.” He heard Olivia behind him, and then her
arm went past him and she took the bowl from his hand.

  “Says the woman who inhaled a chocolate sundae the other night.”

  She scowled at him.

  “Go brush your teeth and get dressed, Soph.” Olivia took the plates from the table to wash them. “I need to teach her manners. At least I need to pretend to, right?”

  He laughed.

  “Did she call you mum or did I misunderstand?”

  Olivia smiled and then chuckled. “She only watches two television shows. One is a home repair reality show called Flip or Flop. Don’t ask me why a little girl would watch that, but she loves it. The other show is Peppa Pig, which is a cartoon about a family of British pigs. Sometimes she calls me mum.”

  “It’s cute.”

  “It’s weird.”

  “A little. But in an endearing sort of way,” he said, as she cut a banana into a bowl of cereal, looking so domestic in her kitchen. For some reason he found that mesmerizing. How one moment she could be the intimidating politician and the next she was cutting little pieces of fruit for her daughter. Two very different sides of a woman who fascinated him.

  “What’s the plan today?”

  “Tom should be here shortly. Normally we take Sophie to school then I go to the office.” When he didn’t move she eyed him. “You don’t have to wait for him, you know.”

  “Yes I do. I don’t mind.” He moved his head from side to side and rubbed the back.

  “You slept terribly. That couch is uncomfortable.”

  “I’m fine. It’s fine.”

  She walked over to him. She had on a form-fitting skirt that went past her knees and a white button-down shirt that was still untucked and she was barefoot. He couldn’t help it, he pulled her to him and caught her before she tumbled, forcing her onto his lap. “I like seeing you in the morning. Fresh-faced and a little frazzled.”

  “Joey.”

  “I like you.” He just said it. No need to beat around the bush. “I know you have a million excuses and reasons, but I just wanted to tell you that.”

  “Why didn’t you call?”

  That was it. That’s what he wanted to hear. That she had noticed. That she had missed him the last couple of days he’d been away. It made him feel an odd sense of relief because if there was one thing that sucked it was feeling something for someone and it not being reciprocated.