“Good. Provided you clear the background check and we bring you on, we can supply you the competency paperwork. We have an arrangement with the local sheriff’s office for prints.” She stands and thumbs through a file cabinet in the corner, coming out with a form. “Fill this out and we should be all set. Takes a while to process, so get it done now.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She smiles, shakes her head. “This way, cowboy.”
I follow her up the hall into the warehouse. Her heels clack off the cement floor as we pass between the jet and wrestling mats on our way to the door to the soundproofed room in back. She hands me a pair of bright yellow ear covers hanging on a rack near the door and puts a pair on herself. We step inside. Even with the ear protection, the faint pops I heard out in the warehouse are louder.
A guy with salt-and-pepper hair and a curvy redhead stand at two of the seven stalls, shooting handguns at targets on the wall in front of them.
She directs me to the stall on the end, where the targets are set at only fifteen yards. “See what you can do with that target,” she says with a nod at the fresh target clipped on the wire in front of me.
I nod and reel off five shots into the center of the target. I turn to her and lift her ear cover. “Are we ready to get serious now?”
A slow smile creeps across her face, and she pulls back one of my ear covers. “Twenty? Or twenty-five?”
“I’d do fifty if you had it, but I guess I’ll have to settle for twenty-five.”
We drop each other’s protective gear back into place and she sends the target back up the wire to the end. She nods and I empty the rest of the clip into dead center.
“So we’re good with the firearms section of the application,” she says with a lift of her brows. She struts toward the guy up the row and taps his arm, then steps two stalls down and does the same to the woman. They stop shooting and we all pull off our headgear.
“Steve Spencer, Danni Bates, this is Robert Davidson.”
“Rob,” I correct, shaking their outstretched hands in turn.
“Provided everything checks out,” Elaine continues, “he’ll be working with the team once we get him on board with protocol.”
“Welcome to the jungle,” the redhead says.
“Danni is one of our best,” Elaine explains with a nod at her. “She’ll be working with you over the next few weeks to get you up to speed. And Steve is our pilot, so you might get the opportunity to work with him down the road. We pay two hundred a day during training, and if you don’t kill yourself in the process, you’ll get your first assignment when Danni clears you. Once you’re in the field, pay is per assignment and varies from two grand for an evening, to ten for round-the-clock.”
I whistle through my teeth. We never paid anywhere near that for our muscle.
“Don’t let my wife scare you away,” Salt-and-Pepper says, looping his arm around Elaine’s waist. “Her bark is worse than her bite.”
They’re married. Good to know.
“What hours are we looking at?” I ask.
“We’ll do most of your training in the mornings, when we’re slow. I’ve got a field staff of eight drivers, and five highly trained bodyguards. Most of your work will be in the Tampa or Miami area, and we’ll probably need you one or two nights a week. I won’t send you on any overnight or long-term gigs until we’re comfortable that you know what you’re doing.”
“Sounds reasonable.”
“I’m going to be honest and tell you I lost two guys in the last month. One moved away and the other couldn’t hack it. I need someone up and running ASAP.” She gives me the once-over. “I’m going to expedite your background check and application, and if you’re everything you seem to be, I don’t see an issue.”
I nod, hoping she’s right.
“Plan to be here from nine to noon for a few weeks starting Monday. We’ll see how your training progresses and go from there,” she says, moving toward the door.
“Great to meet you,” I tell Steve, then turn to Danni. “And I guess I’ll see you Monday.”
“Looking forward to it,” she says with a smile.
I follow Elaine through the warehouse back to the offices.
“If you have any questions, call me,” she says, flipping a card out of a holder on the wall near the entrance. “If there are any issues, I’ll let you know. Otherwise, we’ll see you Monday.”
I shake her hand and leave the way I came in, thinking about how fucked up this is. Mafioso turned bodyguard. Definitely not where I saw my life going.
Chapter 10
Adri
What I know about Sherm’s family so far: 1) Lee cooks breakfast, usually eggs and bacon, but sometimes French toast, and Ulie cooks dinner. 2) Sherm wasn’t a big fan of the shrimp stew Ulie made last week. 3) Rob’s story is that both their parents died in a car crash. 4) That story is a lie. 5) Their mother probably is dead, but I don’t know how. 6) Their father is in jail, but Sherm doesn’t know why.
What I don’t know: 1) Why Rob lied about their father being dead. 2) Why Sherm stops talking anytime I bring Rob up.
But I’ve got a theory that those two things might be connected.
I keep picturing Rob’s face when he said he knew exactly what his future held. He’s driven and determined, with an angry undercurrent to everything he does. But whatever’s driving him also makes him unfathomably sad—the same sadness I see in Sherm’s eyes every time he looks my way.
Something horrible happened to this family, and I can’t help wondering if it has to do with why their mother is dead and they’re telling everyone their father is too. Did the father murder his wife? Domestic violence would explain Sherm and Rob’s shared trauma. It might also explain Rob’s vigilance if the father threatened to harm Sherm or the other siblings.
It’s not my business. I don’t need details. But I need to know how it’s affecting Sherm so I can help him move past it.
I’m on yard duty, sitting at a picnic table during afternoon recess, staring at Rob’s picture on my phone and formulating my plan to confront him for answers, when I hear yelling from down the row of tables. I look up in time to see Macie running toward me, her eyes as big as dinner plates.
“They’re trying to throw Sherm in the trash can, Miss Wilson!”
I spring off the bench and bolt toward the last picnic table, where Jason and his two buddies hold Sherm suspended, thrashing and twisting, over the edge of the steel drum. Sherm lashes out with his right fist and connects with Jason’s face. Jason lets go and brings both hands to his bleeding nose, wailing like a wounded animal. One of his buddies flings Sherm against the side of the trash can by the arm.
“Let him go!” I yell, as the other yard duty teachers converge on the scene.
The fifth-grade boys drop Sherm and run for the fence at the edge of the school grounds, and Jason sinks to the ground, blood and tears running between his fingers and dripping down his elbows onto his white T-shirt.
Sherm crouches near the picnic tables cradling his arm to his chest, his face twisted in grimace of pain. But unlike Jason, he’s not crying.
Mrs. Yetz presses a wad of tissue to Jason’s face. “Come with me,” she says, and shepherds him toward the office.
“Sherm? Are you okay?” I ask, stooping next to him.
When I look at his arm, it’s clear he’s not okay. His elbow is already starting to swell and seems twisted at a slightly unnatural angle.
“I’ll get the nurse,” Theresa says, heading toward the office.
“It’s okay, Sherm,” I say, settling onto the ground next to him and wrapping my arm over his shoulders. “I’m going to call your brother, okay?”
His eyes widen and he shakes his head. “Lee.”
“You want me to call your sister?”
He nods. He’s becoming paler by the second, but he still doesn’t cry. I’m afraid he’s going into shock. He looks so small and fragile I want to scoop him up and take all his pain away. He re
cites a phone number and I dial it.
“Hello,” a voice on the other end says.
“Is this Lee Davidson?” I ask.
“Um … yes.” She’s suddenly wary, just like her brother. “Who is this?”
“This is Adri Wilson from Port St. Mary Elementary. I’m your brother’s teacher.”
“Oh,” she says, her wariness melting into concern. “Is everything okay?”
“Unfortunately, no. Sherm was involved in an altercation in the playground and I think he’s possibly broken his arm.”
“Oh my God!” she shrieks.
“The school nurse is on her way out. He’s asking for you. Are you available to come into school?”
“We’ll be right there,” she says, then she’s gone.
I lower the phone. “She’s on her way.”
Macie floats over and lowers herself to the ground on Sherm’s other side. She whispers something in his ear that I can’t hear. He covers his face with his hand, but she gently pries it away, then says something else. Through his pain, he manages a smile, then she gets up and flounces off.
Theresa is walking across the lawn toward us with the nurse, and I can tell by Theresa’s hand gestures that she’s filling her in on what happened. The bell rings as they reach us, and I tell my other students to head to class.
“I’ve got him,” the woman says.
She looks familiar, but instead of trying to figure out why, I stand and get out of her way.
“Sherm?” she asks, kneeling at his side.
He doesn’t answer.
“Can you tell me where it hurts?”
Sherm points to his elbow, and when the nurse tries to move it, he grimaces and cries out. She spends the next several minutes poking and prodding. “Dislocated elbow, looks like,” she finally says.
“Is it broken?” I ask.
“Hard to tell,” she says, lowering his arm. “He needs to go to the hospital for X-rays. Is his family on the way? Or do I need to call an ambulance?”
Before I can answer, I hear Rob yelling Sherm’s name. I turn, and he and the pretty woman with long sandy hair are jogging from the parking lot. I can’t help scanning the pair for any family resemblance. Where Sherm is the spitting image of Rob, I don’t see any of them in their sister.
She squats down next to him where he sits on the ground. “Hey, you. Did you fall?”
Sherm shakes his head.
“Are you his mother?” the nurse asks.
“Sister,” she says, and flicks a wrist at Rob. “My brother Rob is his legal guardian.”
I glance up and see Rob looking at me. I expect blame or accusation in his gaze. What I see instead is a storm of emotions swirling in depths that I never knew were there. For the first time ever, the walls are down and I see his pure, unadulterated love for his brother. I also can’t help but notice the bruise under his left eye.
“Rob?” the nurse says approaching him, and suddenly I put her in context. She was two years ahead of me at Loveland High. Candy or Cindy or something. “I think he’s dislocated his elbow and there’s the possibility it’s fractured. He needs to be transported to the hospital for X-rays and treatment.”
Rob’s eyes stay fixed on me for a moment before shifting to her. When she gets a clear look at his face, she runs her tongue over her lips and gives him look that I swear has her phone number encoded in it.
“We can take him?” Rob asks, not seeming to notice the flood of pheromones coming at him like an undertow.
She nods. “Just try not to jar his arm. It’s only about fifteen minutes over the bridge to Loveland Medical Center, so he’ll be fine.”
Lee stands and helps Sherm to his feet.
I turn to her, because I don’t want to admit to the dagger of jealousy that’s slicing through my stomach, and I certainly don’t want Rob to see it on my face. “Thank you for coming so quickly. I’m so sorry this happened.”
“Thank you for calling.” She extends an arm. “I’m Lee, Sherm’s sister.”
She really is beautiful, and her voice is low, with a timbre that could soothe the most savage beast. My eyes flick to Rob as I take her hand and shake. Candy has unbuttoned her collar and stepped closer, but Rob’s eyes are back on me.
“Adri Wilson,” I tell Lee, clearing my throat. “I want you to know the other boy involved is in the principal’s office. He’ll probably be suspended for his part in what happened.”
“What did happen?” My head jerks up at Rob’s voice, right next to me, and I shudder at his proximity. Sand is crusted on his lower legs, and he’s in black athletic shorts and a damp T-shirt, as if he was at the beach on a hot day. But it’s not a hot day. It’s a typical cool February afternoon. Which means he was probably running or working out. The tangy scent of his sweat is enough to send me over the edge.
“The boys who have been picking on Sherm tried to throw him in the trash can,” I say, gesturing to the steel drum at the end of the table.
Rob’s jaw tightens as Lee hisses, “Those little shits.” But then her eyes widen and flick to Sherm. She grimaces and starts guiding him to the car.
“Why did you call Lee instead of me?” Rob asks, his eyes searching my face again.
With his proximity, and the musky male scent that comes with it, my thoughts scramble. It’s a second before I can retrieve his answer from my brain. “Sherm. He asked me to call Lee.”
His full lips press into a tight line as he nods, then he turns and follows Lee and Sherm to the car without another word.
Candy catches up with Rob before they reach the Lumina. I turn toward my classroom and try to focus on the task at hand. Something is tearing Rob up inside, and it suddenly seems even more important that I find out what it is.
Chapter 11
Rob
I drive like a bat out of hell in the direction Lee’s GPS tells us to go. Fifteen minutes later, we’re at the ER. But then we sit for almost an hour. Finally, Sherm gets in to see the doctor, who, after looking at the X-rays, sets his elbow and says it’s probably not broken.
“I’m going to cast it just to be sure,” he tells me. “A non-displaced fracture of the growth plate won’t show on X-ray for a week or so, so it’s just a precaution.”
Sherm and I are sitting in the waiting room while Lee goes over the discharge instructions with the nurse at the desk, when the school nurse comes through the sliding doors of the ER. She’s abandoned the slacks and sensible shoes she was in earlier for spiky heels, a snug red top, and a black skirt that barely covers her ass. She flips her loose brown hair behind her shoulder when sees us and comes straight over, stooping down next to Sherm.
“Hey, Sherm,” she says.
He nods warily at her.
She gives him a big grin. “I wanted to see how you were doing. Everything okay?”
Sherm nods again.
“Cool cast,” she says, brushing a finger over the bright yellow fiberglass under his blue sling. “Can I sign it?”
He shrugs, so she goes to the nurses’ desk and comes back with a green Sharpie. She pushes the sling up a little to expose more of the cast.
“Let’s see,” she says, tapping the end of the Sharpie to her glossy red lips as she thinks, then she jots, To the bravest kid I know, get better soon, Candy in big loopy scrawl.
Sherm reads it and pride flickers in his eyes.
I gain a little respect for Candy … until she slips into the seat next to me, splays my hand open, and writes her name and a phone number across my palm with the same green Sharpie. “I was thinking maybe we could catch a drink later.”
“Maybe,” I say, resisting the urge to wipe my palm clean on my jeans. This gets so fucking old.
Her smile becomes distinctly more suggestive. She runs a finger along the vein in my forearm. “Give me a call. I’ll meet you wherever you want.”
I look wearily toward the exit, wishing I was anywhere but here. My heart kicks in my chest. Adri is at the sliding door, staring at us.
&n
bsp; I push up from my seat, forgetting that Candy exists.
Sherm is out of his chair and bouncing in front of Adri in a heartbeat. He reaches for her hand.
She stoops lower and looks at his cast. “Are you okay, Sherm? I was so worried about you.”
Her voice is soft and reassuring. Hearing it both stirs me up and calms me down.
He smiles and sticks out his cast. “You want to sign it?”
I realize Candy’s still talking to me when Sherm comes over and takes the Sharpie from her.
“… guess I’ll see you later,” she says, laying her hand on my bicep.
“Yeah … sure.”
Adri is still watching. When her expression darkens, I realize what I just agreed to, but Candy’s already slipping past her out the door.
Lee finds me as Adri signs Sherm’s cast. She’s so focused on Sherm that she seems to have forgotten what we were fighting about when she got Adri’s call. That Buchanan worm called Lee the minute I left his office this morning, telling her she needs to rein me in. I’ll have to pay that asshole another visit. Next time, I’ll let my fists to the talking.
“We’re good to go. They gave me what he needs for tonight, but we need to make a pharmacy run before morning.”
When I glance at the doorway, Adri and Sherm have taken the seats right next to the exit and are deep in conversation. I want to know what they’re saying. Hell, I want to know everything that devastating blonde is thinking, especially where it concerns me. But I give them their space. After a minute, Adri stands and she and Sherm come over to us.
“What did the doctor say?” she asks.
“Same thing as the nurse,” Lee answers. “He dislocated his elbow, but they don’t think it’s broken.”
Adri’s cringe is subtle, but her guilt is written all over it. “I’m so sorry this happened. I feel responsible. I was one of three teachers on yard duty, but I just didn’t …” Her pained eyes flick to me. “I didn’t see what was happening until it was too late.”
“What’s going to happen to the boys who did this?” Lee asks.
Outside the Lines Page 12
