by N Kuhn
Akio is a crazy dude you don’t want to mess with. His dad has rumored connections to my old pal El Burro. Word on the street is Akio is trying to set up shop with Burro and overrun his father to take control. That’s one family feud I’d like to steer clear of. I just can’t seem to leave that asshole Burro behind me though. Watching on, like my own personal movie, he walks right up to Lianna. As the only white girl sitting in the bar, with her open backed, skin tight silver dress on, she’s admittedly a desirable object. I already know this is going to go south, and quick. Preparing myself physically for a battle is easy, it’s the mental part that’s a little slower catching up. I have to assess the issue carefully and make sure I can get us both out of here alive. My credibility would be shot if she got hurt. I’ve only ever lost one client due to my carelessness and it was early enough on in my career, that I wasn’t being scrutinized like I am now. It was also never made public that it was my fault. My involvement was unknown.
Watching on, as Akio leans in to speak with her, she pulls herself away, slapping him across the face. I’m not sure what he said to her, but damn it, this is going to be an epic disaster. Launching myself from my table, I’m able to insert myself between him and her before Akio even recovers from the hit. Glaring at me, his eyes flash with anger, and his breath comes quicker with each pant. His hands flex and ball up to fists at his sides. His eyes dart back and forth between Lianna and me. It’s like he can’t decide who he wants to hit first. I think this is the only time I’ve ever hoped I would get punched. Letting something happen to her is out of the question, even if the whiney bitch does deserve it.
“Let’s go Lianna, time to get back to set,” I say, nonchalantly. Grabbing her wrist, I harshly yank her up from the bar stool and she stumbles, trying to gain her balance. The fact that she has no clue who I am, is written across her face. But, realizing it’s me, and she’s been looking at me all night, she clues in quick to the fact that I’m trying to help her.
“Who do you think you are?” Akio asks, finally able to react. “You don’t think she can disrespect me like that, in my own establishment, and then prance out of here with you, do you? That’s not how things work in my town.” Anger ripples through his face. The bar goes silent, as every eye turns towards us. I can feel Lianna, who still has yet to say anything in her defense, not even a sorry, shaking with fear as her hands grasp at the back of my coat for dear life. Gone is the laughing, cocky woman I was watching just minutes ago.
“Listen man,” I say, pulling a wad of cash from my pocket. “I’ll give you the cash you would have made, you keep the coke, and then we’re leaving.”
Knowing her habits, I’m sure she asked for a lot. Placing seven hundred on the bar, I snap up her little black purse, and hand it to her. Wrapping my arm around her tiny waist, I try to steer her away from these guys, propelling her towards the door. With me between her and Akio, she stumbles, trying to get out of there quickly. It’s good that she’s scared. Maybe this will teach her to stay away from assholes like this. But, probably not. Women like her, rich, with a known name, do what they want, damn the consequences. They always assume some poor schlub will come to their rescue when things get tough. The bad thing is, they are right. There’s always some man ready and willing to play Knight and Shining Doofus to a beautiful, rich, famous woman. Right now, that idiot is me, except I’m getting paid for it.
As we near the door, almost there, something hits me from behind, hard, square between my shoulders. As I feel the cold liquid seep into the coat and shirt, I’m fuming. This was my favorite coat. Someone is about to get hurt. Keeping the girl between me and the exit, I swing around, snapping the gun from inside my jacket. Laying on the floor in shattered pieces is a rocks glass that someone had thrown at me. Scanning my surroundings, I’m face to face with six of the very things I was trying to avoid, Ninja wannabes. Aw fuck. These guys have lined up between me and Akio, as he leans into the bar, sitting on his elbow, watching on with a leery smile. They all think that life is a movie, don’t they? This is exactly the same scene I saw in the last Christian Thompson movie. The one where he works for the CIA, and goes on the impossible to follow missions. Yea, I worked the set of that one, so I know the whole story line, without having watched the piece of garbage.
“Let’s see what you got white boy.” As the first guy approaches, I shoot his knee cap out.
“You don’t want to mess with me,” I try to warn them, “I have a full clip and fantastic aim. You’re going to be needing some new employees by the time we’re through. The other five men stand stone still, as the one I shot writhes in pain, screaming, on the floor. Awaiting further instructions from their boss, makes them all targets. I don’t have to wait for a boss. Shooting another one of them, in the foot this time, just for the fun of it, he too crumples to the floor, writhing in pain. Yes, I said I only kill bad guys. But, I’m not killing these douchebags. I’m just hurting them a little, and I’m sure they’ve done something to deserve it. Not to mention, I enjoy it. Did I mention, I hate J-Town? The four remaining take a step backwards.
“I told you, I just want to leave,” I shout to Akio. The man just looks to his men and nods his head. This is not going to be pretty.
“Had to be fucking J-Town huh Lianna? You couldn’t party it up in the Hills, or West LA? Fucking J-Town assholes.”
Another wanna-be tries to come at me, doing one of those flashy arm things. You know the one, where they move their hands as fast as they can, trying to look intimidating? Yea, you know what I mean. At least he isn’t yelling, makes him look a little less like a fool. So, this loser comes towards me, and as I try to stifle my laughter, I shoot his knee out too. I have to admit, it is my favorite shot. Takes them out of action, without killing them or leaving a huge mess to clean. Akio should be thanking me for that. I’m being considerate and not leaving a huge brain and blood mess. Instead, he just looks pissed off. That’s the last time I take a mobsters feelings into consideration.
“I tried to warn you man,” I say to him, shrugging my shoulders, “We just wanted to leave peacefully. You wanted to play Ninja. Scores three me, you zero. Wanna keep going?” I ask him.
With a dismissing wave of his hand, Akio turns to the bar to sip from a drink.
“This is not over White Boy. I will find you. Both of you. I was promised something,” he says, wiggling his creepy eyes at Lianna. He picks up one of the hundreds I had left on the bar. Lighting it on fire, he uses it to lite his cigar. Puffing smoke from his mouth, he turns back to me.
“I always collect what I’m promised. Right now, that’s her.” Putting his back to us, as if to finalize his point, I take that as our chance to leave. I know this whole situation is going to get worse before it’s over. My main concern at the moment, is getting Lianna out of here, everything else will have to be figured out later. After we leave, she’s going to need protection. This guy, Akio, is going to come for her, and with his connections, it could be anytime, anywhere. She won’t be safe alone.
Chapter 2
Shoving Lianna through the door, she trips over her heels. Great, I hope she’s not drunk. This is will just complicate things, and most likely annoy me. Reaching out, I grab her before she hits the sidewalk. My arm snakes around her waist, righting her.
“Who the fuck are you? What do you think you’re doing?” she screams, pounding her little fists into my chest, “I’m just having a little fun, blowing off some steam. Who are you to drag me out of a bar? That’s embarrassing. What if the paparazzi saw that?” Her voice seems to raise another octave with each word. Not even acknowledging her tantrum, I pick her up, toss her over my shoulder, in a fireman’s carry, taking her to my black Hummer sitting curbside. She kicks and punches at me, yelling for me to put her down. Figuring I would have a fight getting her out of there, I had parked close, for easy access. Someone in my job is always planning ahead, anticipation is your best friend. Plus, these chicks never disappoint, they are all so predictable. Most of them throw
a fit when I have to drag them out of a bar or club. Party girls, I can’t stand it. What respectable girl wants to be seen showing her panties, drunk off her ass, dancing on tables? But not seen being protected? That’s the only time they worry about their image. Not when they are blowing drugs up there nose, or pumping it into their arms. Not when they are practically naked, dry humping a man in a bar.
Tossing her in the passenger seat, I hold her down with one arm, and buckle her in with the other. Whether from fear, or appreciation, she doesn’t move. But I do see her cheeks redden when my arm brushes across her chest accidentally. Walking around the front, I climb into the driver’s side and pull away before I speak.
“Rockstar hired me to bring you back. They’re paying you a lot of money and helping you get your career back on track, and here you are with a Yakuza leader, trying to buy drugs. You do realize if I wasn’t there, you could either be on your way somewhere as a sex slave, or worse, dead? Those guys deal in more than just drugs. There’s sex trafficking and death too. Some client would pay a pretty hefty price to get Lianna Landry as an item.”
“You shot those guys. You’re a damn lunatic. Seriously. The studio sent you for me? Do they want me to die?” Keeping my eyes ahead of me, I keep driving, laughing to myself. The thanks and gratitude I get for saving her life. Looking out her window, she gets quiet.
“What do you mean sex traffic? Like kidnapping girls to make them prostitutes?” she asks me softly, her eyes full of shock. It’s good that I finally got through to her. Once the booze wear off, I’m sure she’ll be fine. The studio had asked me to take her directly to them. So I point the Hummer towards Santa Monica Boulevard.
“You’re taking me back to them now? Can I at least clean up first? My hotel is on the way,” she questions me, even though she already knows the answer.
“Yes, we’re going to the studio, that’s what I’m paid for. No, we are not making any stops.”
“You shot those guys, and didn’t even flinch. What are you? A psycho or something? You going to shoot me if I don’t cooperate?” she asks bluntly, turning those bright green eyes of hers back on me.
“That’s the job, if I have to, I’ll do what it takes to finish it.”
“Yea, that’s great. I’m glad I can trust you,” pouting now, her sarcasm is unattractive. Silently, she turns back to the window.
Part of my training is to always be aware of my surroundings. Catching a tail is easy, especially when they aren’t trying to hide it. The headlights of the BMW swerving in and out of traffic behind us, is most likely trying to catch up. They have to be part of Akio’s crew. Having anticipated a chase, that’s why I went this way. There are lots of side streets and alleys I can turn down, in an attempt to lose these guys. I knew he wouldn’t just let us out of there free and clear. This is not good though. We just pissed off some pretty dangerous people. When I went through training to be a bodyguard, we were told ‘Bodyguards protect their clients knowing there is a strong possibility of losing their life. In order for a bodyguard to be effective, they have to come to terms with this.’ I still haven’t come to terms with it, and I’m certainly not willing to lose my life over this bratty, drugged up actress. My tactical training comes to the forefront of my mind. Beginning to drive evasively, I swerve in and out of traffic, hoping to lose these guys. Problem is, at this time of night, traffic isn’t too heavy. It’s after rush hour, and before all the cool people head out to the clubs or dinner. The BMW stays tight on my tail, and I can’t shake them.
As I catapult my Hummer down a side street, horns blare in protest, the Beamer still riding my ass. Glancing over, Lianna is holding the seatbelt to her chest, clasping it tight, afraid for her life. Her emerald eyes are wide with shock and fear.
“You’re going to be fine. It’s my job to get you back there in one piece, and I will,” grabbing her hand, I try to give her a reassuring squeeze, “I haven’t lost anyone yet, that I wasn’t supposed to.” Granted, that’s a lie, but she doesn’t need to know about it. Winking at her, I try to get her to laugh. But, she shakes with fear. One thing I’ve never been good at is women. A night or two, we’re good. Anything more, and I haven’t experienced that in three years. Not since Jessica. But that’s a story for another time. Right now I have to keep my thoughts on how to get us out of this alive. Emotions are something I’m just not capable of dealing with. Give me a gun, I can do many things, but a crying woman, I’m lost.
Lianna’s palm is sweaty and warm, her pulse racing. As she tries to breathe, her chest heaves up and down, making her fifty thousand dollar breasts bounce. This turns me on, causing my cock to go rock hard. Not good. That’s just going to distract me. I have to focus on the task at hand. A hard on is the last thing I need right now. Looking back in the mirror again, the car is gone. Searching all side mirrors, I catch them on the driver’s side of my Hummer, pulling up next to me. They are trying to out maneuver me. It’s to be expected. There’s no way they can set me in a spin without ruining their vehicle. That’s the good thing about my SUV. It’s durable and them smacking my rear end would do them more damage than me.
Cranking the wheel, I try to cut them off. It’s not good if they get past me, and they can, in that Beamer. If allowed to pass me, then they will most likely slam on their breaks, causing the car to spin out, and stop in front of me. Then I’ll have no choice but to stop or blow through them. I can’t do anything that will allow Lianna to fall into their hands and I don’t get paid if she’s out of commission for the studio. Just as I try to speed up, the first bullet crashes into my vehicle. The ping startles me, but I know I’ve taken the necessary steps already and made the Hummer bulletproof. That was one of my first investments when I started this line of work. But as with anything in life, it can only withstand so much. As the men in the BMW rain bullets onto my truck, I search left and right for an out. They must be using automatic weapons, because it doesn’t sound like they are running out of any ammo anytime soon. The glass can only take so much pressure before the bullets will start to come through. Not a good thing. The Alpina they are driving swerves back behind me to avoid hitting a dumpster in the alley way I had turned in. Where are all the LAPD when you need them?
Flying out of the alley, I don’t even pause to look at traffic. The Hummer bounces over a curb, and thankfully because we are strapped in, our heads don’t quite reach the roof of the truck. But the landing is rough and we’re shaken up a bit. Lianna and I make it safely back into the street, turning down the main drive again, but the Alpina gets broadsided by a station wagon. Feeling guilty for the poor person in the wagon, I’m still awash with relief that we’re not being chased anymore.
“Where are you staying?” I ask her, already knowing, but trying to get her to talk and relax a little. I can tell she’s very afraid, so talking may be able to pull the focus off of what’s happening. These are little things you pick up along the way during intense situations.
There’s no way we can go to the studio right now. They will find her there, and I don’t think Akio is going to be ready to just let her go, especially not now that I’ve ruined his BMW Alpina and a few guys. Those cars are nice. I’d be pissed too.
“I was staying at the Hilton,” she says. “But you’re going to tell me I can’t now, aren’t you.” Nodding my head, she’s right. It would be stupid to stay. They already figured out what I was driving, and there had been no one on the streets, at least not that I saw, who watched us drive away. Considering that they thought I was her bodyguard, they most likely just drove off towards the studio looking for the sort of protection vehicles that celebs prefer.
“Yea, that would be wise to get out of there. We’ll stop and clean out your room, but that guy was the son of the damn Yakuza leader. You do know who that is right?” asking, I turn to glare at her. How do I explain this to her sheltered little head without making her more afraid than she already is? “These guys are like the Mafia, but worse. They are still trying to make a name for themselves h
ere in America, so this makes them more dangerous. They do stupid things without thinking. The police can’t do anything because they somehow have a lot of them in their pockets. So we are fully on our own here, unless you know some cops that are on the straight and narrow.” Staring straight ahead, I tap my fingers on the steering wheel. Waiting at a red light, I keep an eye on the rearview, making sure no one else is coming for us.
As the red light we’re stopped at turns green, she nods her head solemnly and I take off down the road. I’m going to have to dump this truck soon. Driving in downtown LA with a shot up vehicle isn’t the brightest thing we can do, and these guys have their hands in everyone’s pockets, and I can’t risk running up against someone they own. As I pull into the underground parking near the Hilton, I turn to Lianna. Her face is ashen and she’s shaking. I find a corner in the back of the structure to park in. I can arrange for my Hummer to be brought back to the garage I use. They don’t ask questions. Grabbing her shoulders, I pull her into me, hugging her. We don’t have a lot of time to waste, but she just looked like it was needed right now.
“You got a car here sweetheart?” I ask her, even though once again, I’m already going through her purse trying to find the keys. My intel said she had a Porsche 911 Carrera. Red, like I should be surprised by that. I had seen her leave the hotel earlier this evening in a taxi, so I knew it hasn’t left the Hilton parking. Research. Always know your clients and your enemies equally well. It helps you keep one step ahead of both of them. Know who is a flight risk, know who has a death wish. Knowledge, it truly is power.
