3. Selene

3

SELENE

T he sound of someone dropping a spoon three booths over makes me jump. I hide my eyes under my hand and droop toward the half empty coffee cup sitting before me. I haven’t stopped shaking since I ran screaming from my own apartment several hours ago.

Now I’m too afraid to go back. I considered calling the police, but I’ve never known my brother to not have at least one active warrant. If the police get involved, he might end up going to jail. Or worse, the authorities might cause Moreno to escalate. If he hasn't already hurt Justin, calling the cops might make him take that step.

I have to do something to help Justin, but if I can’t go to the cops, who’s left?

It hits me all of a sudden, like a bolt from the blue. My mind stops racing a mile a minute as I realize I do have an option, if an unconventional one.

A while back, my cousin Emory got into some trouble. Her piece of crap ex-boyfriend escaped from jail and put her through Hell. She hired a private security firm to protect her, and she had a one-man army as a bodyguard.

Emory is still alive and well. Her ex, he’s hopefully down below getting stabbed with pitchforks. The security firm knows their business, obviously. I even have an in with the company. Hopefully there’s a friends and family discount.

My cousin works as a choreographer. I fully expect that when I text, it will take her some time to get back to me because she's so busy. To my surprise, three little dots dance on my screen almost right away.

What’s up?

I’m in trouble. I might need your Security firm friends.

Where RU?

I text her my location, my hands still trembling, albeit slightly.

OMW. Don’t go anywhere and make sure there are lots of people around.

She doesn’t have to worry. I’m afraid to even go to the bathroom. About half an hour later, I see her pull into the parking lot. Emory storms the diner entrance and spots me right away.

Emory gives me a huge hug before sliding into the opposite side of the booth. Her blue eyes are filled with concern as she holds my hand across the table.

“Okay, what happened?”

“It’s my brother, Justin. He got mixed up with the wrong people again, and this time he dragged me into it too. I think…”

My voice breaks and my vision grows blurry with tears.

“I think Justin might be hurt. Maybe bad.”

“Oh, baby,” Emory says, her lips in a worried pout. “We’ll do everything we can to find him, okay? Have you gone to the police?”

“No, I haven’t. I’m afraid that they either won’t care because of Justin’s criminal record, or they’ll wind up arresting him instead of helping him.”

I break down what just happened at my place. Emory listens intently, occasionally squeezing my hand for reassurance.

“Okay, from what you’ve told me we don’t know for sure if Justin is hurt or not, so there’s no need to panic. Are you up for a little drive?”

“Of course.”

“All right. I’ll take you to the office. ”

“It’s getting kind of late, will anyone be there?”

“The owner’s wife is in Calcutta filming a movie, so he’s been catching up on paperwork.”

“Oh, right,” I say with a smile I don’t really feel. “Your boyfriend works there. How are you guys doing?”

She gets a dreamy look on her face and sighs.

“Just perfect. He’s on an assignment at the moment, protecting a movie director from a biker gang. Or something. Anyway, let’s get you and your brother some help.”

I calm down some on the ride to the security office. Emory’s presence is soothing to me. She’s been through Hell and come out stronger on the other side. I wish I had her moxie right now. I’ve got half a mind to paint myself to look like a rock and go hide on a hillside somewhere.

The office occupies a nice, newly remodeled building in a moderately crummy neighborhood. Emory hugs me tight before letting me get out of her car.

“Jax is expecting you. Want me to wait here until you make it inside?” she asks.

“Oh no, I’ve taken up enough of your time. I’ll be okay.”

“Alright. Be brave, sweetie, and don’t give up hope that you’re going to find your brother alive and well, okay?”

“Okay. Thanks again.”

“Anytime. Call me if you need something, day or night.”

“I will, take care of yourself.”

I watch her taillights dwindle in the night. The warmth of her presence dwindles with them. Suddenly fearful, I rush inside the office and find myself in a darkened lobby. I can see a pool table from light slanting in through the half drawn blinds. The smell of cigar smoke emanates from a nearby office door.

The door spills out an irregular rectangle of light into the lobby. I follow the light, the smell, and the sound of ice clinking in a glass. I come upon a leanly muscled man sitting behind the room’s one desk, bent over stacks of bundled paper and three different devices open to spreadsheets .

“You must be Selene. Emory told me to expect you. I’m Jax. Excuse the clutter, I’m just catching up on paperwork. Sorry about the smell. I gave up smoking for my wife, so I thought I’d give this clove cigar a try.”

“Nice to meet you. A cluttered desk is the least upsetting thing I've seen all night. And I like the smell of cloves.”

“No doubt. I’ve heard some of your situation already. If you could be patient for a moment, my agent should be arriving at any minute. Fortunately, he was in the general area and available.”

“Your agent. Sounds so official.” My voice trembles even as I try to sound casual. I haven’t been this shook in a long time.

“I think you’ll find he’s more than capable and qualified.”

I heave a long sigh and fidget, steepling my fingers. It happens a lot when I don't have anything to do with my hands.

“I’m sure. It’s just…this whole thing with my brother has been so surreal, you know?”

I look up at him, my lips pursing into a frown. He listens patiently, waiting for me to go on.

“But now that I’m hiring an ‘agent’ to help me find my brother and keep my body bullet free, I guess it makes it all real. Does that make any sense?”

Jax nods. “It makes perfect sense. I think you’ll find a lot of people in this office who understand what trauma and shock can do to a person. But you’re taking action, and making a good decision.”

I laugh softly, though it doesn’t quite cheer me up.

“You don’t have to keep making your sales pitch, I’ve already decided to hire you.”

He chuckles and shrugs. “Force of habit, I suppose.” He looks around the office wistfully. “It seems like just yesterday that this place was on the verge of falling apart, and I had zero clients and an empty fridge. Time has a way of catching up with you.”

I shudder. I hope time hasn't caught up with Justin. He doesn’t deserve to die. I hope he is ok.

Jax clears his throat. “You know, my brother Bastian used to get in trouble all the time. Big trouble. But he turned out alright in the end. One time–”

A heavy door slams outside, followed by some unintelligible shouting and laughter. Heavy footsteps clomp into the front door. I turn to the office entrance just in time to see a blonde Adonis with eyes as green as fresh spring leaves saunter inside.

The Ramones T-shirt on his chest has seen better days, and his appearance is what could be best described as scruffy, but he’s got that dirty hot vibe that some women love. Like me. Damn.

“Dane Vaughn, reporting for duty, Sir,” the new arrival says, snapping off a salute. “Just this once, though. I ain’t signing no long term contracts or nothing like that.”

Jax’s nose wrinkles in distaste.

“Dane, is that…is that blood on your shirt?”

Dane squints down at a smear on his shirt and shrugs.

“Yeah, but it’s not mine.”

As if that excuses and explains it all away. Jax visibly composes himself. I don’t think he expected Dane to show up in such a state. Dane’s attitude should be annoying, but it’s so unforced it might actually be endearing. Might. I don’t know about Dane yet, but I do trust Jax. And Jax seems to trust Dane.

“I mean, you should have seen me and Bastian cleaning house, man,” Dane says, pantomiming a punch. “This guy rolls up on me, and I’m like bam and he goes right the fuck down. Then Bastian was fighting two dudes at once, and?—”

“Dane,” Jax says, his voice filled with warning. “Perhaps you’d like to say hello to Selene. Your client.”

Dane stops, and closes his mouth. He has the good grace to look sheepish as he turns to face me.

“Sorry, got a little carried…”

His eyes widen slightly. Dane’s intense gaze flickers over me, lingering for a moment in the usual spots men favor the most. My heart skips a beat when our eyes meet at last.

“...away. Nice to meet you, Selene.”

“Um, likewise.”

He stands a little straighter, I can’t help but notice.

“Dane is a former Navy SEAL and tactical weapons specialist,” Jax says. “He’s been decorated for exemplary service multiple times. He’s trained in all NATO and Eastern Bloc weapons, close quarters combat, demolitions disposal, and his Five Alarm Chili is the best you’ll ever taste. Like I said, more than qualified.”

Dane looks a little bit embarrassed by all of his accolades.

“So, what can I do for you?”

“Go ahead and start from the beginning, Selene,” Jax says.

“It’s my brother, Justin. He’s always had a bad habit of picking the wrong crowd to hang out with. This time, he wound up getting entangled with Salvatore Moreno.”

Dane shrugs. “Is that someone I should know?”

Jax frowns and shakes his head.

“He’s a prominent figure in organized crime…allegedly, of course. Nothing seems to stick to him. My buddy on the force has been trying to get him for years.”

“Speaking of your buddy on the force, why haven’t you called him for help?” Dane asks.

“I did. He sent a detective over to her place on the down low. No sign of her brother, and nothing out of sorts. It’s like no one was ever there.”

I start, because I hadn’t known Jax took that step. I guess he knew to keep it unofficial so my brother wouldn’t get in trouble with the law.

“Hmm. Mind if I take a look myself? LAPD is overworked, and if it was an unofficial task, they might not have done their best.”

Jax grunts. “Might not be a bad idea to check it out. Just be careful in case Moreno’s men are watching the place, waiting for Selene.”

“Right.”

He turns to me and offers his hand.

“Ready to go, Selene?”

After a moment’s hesitation, I take his hand and my fingers light up with a tingling sensation. His knuckles are huge. My gaze wanders up his arm, checking out his numerous tattoos. The one with the crosshairs is far from subtle. Dane might be a bit on the rough side, but he won’t be intimidated by the mob. Which is what I need right now.

“Be careful, Dane,” Jax says as we head out the office door. “It’s a whole different kind of battlefield here.”

“Don’t worry, Mom,” Dane says without turning around.

We step out into the night. He’s still holding my hand. We both sort of realize this at the same time and awkwardly release our grip. His face twists up in annoyance as he looks up and down the street.

“What’s wrong?”

“Bastian gave me a ride. My car isn’t here.”

I chuckle softly as the night wind stirs my hair.

“I also got a ride, so I guess we don’t have a set of wheels.”

He grunts, giving the matter some thought. A street light buzzes overhead, mingling with the sounds of distant traffic. The breeze has stolen the heat from the city. It feels like a great night for a rooftop party, or dinner on the beach.

Instead, we’re going to my apartment to look for clues as to whether Justin is alive or dead.

“Okay, I have an idea.”

He leads me back inside. Jax’s office door is now closed and we can hear him talking softly on the phone. I follow Dane through a door exiting the lobby and into a room filled with server towers covered in blinking lights. A woman sits at the keyboard, her gaze flicking over to us as we enter.

“Dane! I haven’t seen you in forever. Oh, thank goodness, you finally got a girlfriend,” she says, taking off her headset and standing up. I get a glance at the screen. There are about a hundred windows open and all of them are filled with programmer code.

She hugs Dane and then thrusts her hand out at me. I take it on instinct, trying to correct her but she steamrolls over me.

“Can you please help me get him to eat something beside Little Debbie snack cakes and bar food? I’m not asking you to cook for him, understand, just get him to diversify his palate?— ”

“She’s a client of the firm, Harlowe, not my girlfriend,” Dane says with a smirk. “This is a professional call, and I happen to like bar food.”

Harlowe blinks in confusion. “Wait, you mean you finally wised up and took a job with the firm?”

“It’s a one-off. Harlowe, this is Selene. Selene, this is my sister, Harlowe.”

“I’m so sorry, Selene. I made assumptions.”

“It’s all right,” I say, trying to wave away her concerns. “It’s hard to believe that he eats like a twelve-year-old, though, with that body.”

As soon as the words come out of my mouth, I feel like an ass. I could have put that another way. Harlowe gets a knowing smirk at the corner of her mouth. Dane’s sudden intake of breath is the only sign he heard.

“Anyway,” he says, pointedly not looking at me, “I need to borrow your car.”

“Borrow my car? I didn’t bring my car. No one drives in LA, there’s too much traffic.”

“Then how did you get here?”

“Bastian gave me a ride. But why don’t you just use one of the company cars?”

He perks up. “There are company cars?”

“Yeah, our operation is growing and expanding. Duh.” She rolls her eyes. “Thanks to all the publicity from taking care of Charlotte and Emory, the firm is doing great.”

Harlowe takes us out through the back, where a freshly paved parking lot holds several black SUVs. One of them bears the Platinum Security logo, but the rest of them wouldn’t look out of place on any road in the Valley. Which I guess is the point.

“These are some ugly ass trucks,” Dane says with a snort. “Who picked them out?”

Harlowe crosses her arms over her chest and glares at her brother.

“Oh shit, did you…sorry, I didn’t know. ”

“Whatever. Here’s the keys. Don’t bring it back without a full tank of gas.”

“A full tank of gas? This monster? Can I at least expense account it?”

Harlowe turns and walks away.

“Sounds like a you problem.”

She pauses next to me and smiles.

“It was so nice to meet you, Selene. I’m sorry you drew the short straw and got this annoying dillhole as your bodyguard, but he will keep you safe.”

I can’t help but grin. “It was nice to meet you too.”

Dane sighs, and holds the door open for me. I climb inside the passenger seat. The interior has every piece of tech imaginable, which tracks with Harlowe being the procurement agent.

He puts my address into the navigation panel, and we’re off. My stomach gets twisted up the closer we get to my place. I keep replaying the moment in my mind. Your home is supposed to be your safe place. Now mine feels violated.

“So, you do makeup for movies?”

His voice startles me out of my spiral. I nod, turning my gaze his way.

“Yeah. You ever heard of the Shambling Dead series?”

“One of the guys in my unit was obsessed with that show. Zombies and stuff, right?”

“Right. I’m working on the newest spin off, actually. Just started.”

A smile spreads over his face. I see a hint of something besides the abrasive, swaggering warrior persona he projects.

“That’s really cool. I snuck my brother Rafe into An American Werewolf in London when he was ten and I told him the werewolf parts were real. It was years later and a lot of nightmares later that he found out it was all special effects.”

He’s not afraid to join me in laughter at his expense. Something inside of me relaxes, the suspicious part. The part that’s afraid of being let down and hurt .

I really want to like this guy. Can’t I just like him and not have it end in disaster?

I shake it off and put my barriers back up.

“That’s a terrible thing to do to a child. But that movie did have excellent practical effects. We try to use that on the show as much as possible.”

“I’m surprised CGI hasn’t put you out of business. No offense.”

“None taken. CGI costs money, and if you have fifty extras shambling across the set it’s just more cost-efficient to use makeup and practical effects. Plus, have you heard of the Uncanny Valley? It’s impossible to create a convincing face because of how the human brain is hardwired…I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

My cheeks burn with embarrassment. I’ve steam rolled through the conversation with all of my rambling, as usual.

“It’s all right, I like the way you ramble, Selene. Besides, I find this stuff fascinating.”

“Thanks.”

Now I’m blushing for a different reason. It’s hard to meet his jade gaze.

“What about you? You were in the service, right? So what was your specialty?”

His tattooed arms ripple as his hands tighten on the steering wheel. I look at Dane’s hard set jaw and realize I’ve touched a sensitive spot.

“It's all right, you don't have to answer,” I say.

“I was a SEAL. Sniper,” he says, putting the car in park and shutting off the engine. “We’re here.”

I’m surprised to find that he’s right. We’re parked outside of my duplex. My heart thuds harder in my chest as we walk up to the front door. Apparently, I’m not the only nervous one. Dane lifts his shirt and reveals a holstered 9MM automatic, nickel-plated pistol.

I gasp as he takes out the weapon, its metal gleaming in the security lights.

“Do you really think you’ll need that?” I whisper .

“Maybe, maybe not. And don’t bother whispering. It carries further than speaking in a low voice.”

“Really?”

He doesn’t answer, going up to my front door instead. Dane peers through the living room window, then motions me over.

“Open the lock, and then wait for me out here until I give you the all clear.”

“Okay. Be careful.”

He disappears inside. Tense moments pass as I try to keep my breathing even. I’d like to sit out here and sip a hard seltzer, not cower while my military trained bodyguard checks to see if the mob has left an assassin behind.

“Selene.”

I nearly jump out of my skin. Dane stands halfway on the porch, his hand on the doorframe. How does someone that big move so quietly?

“It’s safe. You can come inside.”

I enter as he flips on the lights. All of the lights, every single one. Dane seems to know what he’s doing. He moves around my place, his eyes constantly moving until they find something of interest. Then he stares with great intensity before moving on.

“You said you heard a gunshot?”

“Yeah, that’s what it sounded like. The police guy Jax’s friend sent over didn’t find any evidence, though.”

Dane pokes his finger into my wall and pulls it away, showing a white, crumbling substance.

“You mean, like this?”

“What is that?’

“It’s spackle. Somebody used it to plug a bullet hole. Probably didn’t even bother to dig out the bullet first.”

He whips out a switchblade smooth as butter. I don’t have time to protest before he starts tearing up my wall. In a moment he’s got a small metal casing in his hand.

“So I did hear a gunshot.”

“There are other signs. What do you smell? ”

I take a whiff.

“Um, sort of like pine sol.”

“Right, but you have Mr. Clean under your sink. Somebody cleaned your kitchen with a different brand than you use.”

My heart stops dead.

“Why would they have to clean? Unless it was…”

I can’t bring myself to say the word blood. Someone got shot in my house and then someone else tried to hide the fact.

“Look, we don’t even know if someone actually got shot or not. And even if they did, it might not have been your brother who got hurt.”

He puts his big hand on my shoulder, his hard edges softening.

“It’s going to be alright, Selene. We’ll find Justin.”

There’s something in his voice I can’t identify. He really wants to save Justin, and not just for me. It’s important to Dane for personal reasons. After he clammed up on the ride over, though, I’m afraid to pry.

“We can’t be sure he’s alive,” I blurt.

“We can’t be sure he’s not, either. Breathe, Selene. Just breathe. You can hold it together for your brother, can’t you?”

I try to take his advice, dragging air into my lungs. The light-headed feeling fades, but the panic is more stubborn.

“You’re doing great. Just keep breathing.”

Just when I seem to be stable, vertigo overcomes me. I sway and topple. Dane smoothly catches me in his arms. My hands splay over his chest. On reflex, my fingers flex and press into the firm knots of muscle.

Jesus Christ, he’s like an action hero under that shirt.

My face is so close to him, his masculine scent overwhelms me. Dane’s strong hands hold me steady. His emerald gaze fills with concern and sympathy as he checks on me.

“Are you okay?”

“I think so.” My voice is thick with drowsiness, as if I’ve been awakened from a heady dream. Every fiber of my being cries out in jubilation at being this close to him. It doesn’t matter what my head thinks, obviously. My heart has spoken. That and other vital body parts.

“Lean on me as long as you need to. Just remember to breathe.”

I hadn’t realized I’d stopped. This time, it was for quite a different reason, though. Gradually, my panic subsides. But I don’t exactly settle down. Not with Dane holding me.

An impulse to milk my condition to stay this way longer comes and goes like summer lightning. We need to find out what happened to Justin. I don’t have time for foolishness. I gently push myself away from him, with an awkward thanks.

He gives me one last appraising look before gesturing to his left.

“What’s through that door?”

“My bedroom.”

He goes through the door, and a moment later I hear my drawer opening. I walk in to find him holding a pair of my panties.

“What are you doing?”

He looks at the garment in his hand, his mouth falling open.

“I–, I was just moving them out of the way. Look.”

He shows me a device so tiny it fits in the palm of his hand.

“What is that?”

“A camera, probably using your personal Wi-Fi to send a feed to whoever took your brother.”

He tucks it in his pocket.

“My sister, Harlowe, might be able to use it.”

I nod. He begins to poke around the rest of my room. I’m a little embarrassed, because while it’s not dirty, it’s a bit on the cluttered side.

A noise in the kitchen catches my ear. Going to the bedroom door, I listen down the hallway.

I open my mouth to tell Dane what I just heard. Instead, a big hand clamps over my face as a crushing grip pins my arms to my sides.

“Don’t make a sound.”