7

Christian

The breeze pushed her hair off her shoulders and pressed the short black dress against every curve of her body. I looked away. She deserved more than to be gawked at like some sex symbol. But she was beautiful. I thought spending time with her would soften the pull of her features and the cadence of her voice, but time only made it stronger.

I was doomed.

The beach was not the best place to protect a client. But after that asshole dropped her like an uncooked piece of chicken, what was I supposed to do? Take a seat and watch videos on my phone. No. She had to get out of there, and I'd never seen her happier than when she drove her car. And I'd never been happier than when I was in Malibu with my family, so it was the first place I thought of.

My socks crushed the sand inside my Italian leather shoes and despite the breeze flapping my jacket lapels, it was still too warm in this suit. Even though it was cloudy outside, I was sweating standing next to her. I unbuttoned the first button of my shirt and pulled at the collar.

"So, how long have you been a bodyguard?" she pulled her hair away but a few loose strands escaped and whipped across her face again.

I yanked my blue tie off and turned her shoulders to face me. "Wha—"

I threaded the tie underneath her long auburn hair and lifted the ends, tying a knot at the nape of her neck. "It's not as ideal as an elastic, but it should hold."

She stared at my neck and then moved her eyes up to my lips. The pull in her eyes was the hardest thing I had to break since tearing through those iron doors in Kabul. No. This was much harder.

"Would you like to sit?" I asked.

"Uh, yeah. That sounds good."

Removing my suit jacket, I laid it on the sand a few feet away from the water.

"What about you?" she asked when I sat on the sand next to her.

"Oh, I'm not worried about dirtying these pants."

"So, you're saying you're good at doing laundry?"

I smiled but didn't respond. I'd done my fair share of laundry before, but I hadn't picked up a detergent pod in more than two years. If the cleaners couldn't get the bloodstains out of my suit, I just bought a new one.

We sat side by side, me with my arms crossed over my knees and her with her long bare legs stretched out in front of her.

"You never answered my question. How long have you been a bodyguard?"

"Not long. Almost three years."

She snapped her head to look at me. "Really?"

I laughed. "I'm not sure if you're impressed or concerned."

"Impressed. You've been the most thorough bodyguard I've ever had."

"Thanks." Her compliment was bittersweet. I felt like the biggest fuck-up since my last assignment.

"What's wrong?"

I shook my head. "It's nothing."

"I know we've only known each other a short time. But you can trust me."

"It's not that. It's embarrassing actually, and it's probably the last thing anyone would want to hear. Especially you."

She stiffened next to me.

Shit.

"I see."

She didn't. She took that personally.

"I meant, especially you, as in my current client. The person I'm supposed to protect."

Her brow furrowed, and I sighed. I was messing this up. With my eyes closed, I confessed, "My last client was kidnapped while under my protection."

Her silence was deafening. I rubbed my sweaty palms over my pants and waited.

"That must have been difficult," she said finally. "Is she all right now? Did you find her?"

"Yeah. My brothers pulled it together and located her kidnappers. I was drugged and couldn't think straight for several hours."

"That's good."

I arched my brow, and she smiled. "That you guys found her, I mean."

"Yeah." I dropped my head and looked down the shore to my right, turning away from her. Chewing the inside of my cheek, I fought a wave of humiliation that filled my body since the day it happened. How could I have been so stupid?

"How did they drug you?"

"It's a long story."

She shrugged. "I've got time."

I doubted it. I hadn't seen her rest since I started this assignment nearly a week ago.

"They laced the room service coffee." I rubbed the back of my neck. "I should have known better."

She laughed. "Right. You should drug test every meal before a client eats it," she said sardonically. "That's not feasible."

"Maybe. But I shouldn't have had that coffee. If I'd been awake, those two would never have gotten past me." The anger tasted bitter in my mouth.

She leaned forward, catching my gaze. "I don't doubt that for a minute."

She placed a hand on my thigh, and her brown eyes searched mine. "Hey. Don't be so hard on yourself. It's not easy to get past our mistakes, but we get up and do it anyway."

I smiled. "Exactly. So, we're both going to get up from this beach and move forward with our lives, forgetting what happened in the past."

She narrowed her eyes. "Did you tell me that story so I'd realize that I shouldn't dwell on my own mistakes?"

My lips twitched. "Would you believe me if I said yes?"

She laughed and punched me in the shoulder. "You're either a good liar or the worst sort of therapist."

"I'm neither. I'm just the bodyguard."

She ran her fingers through her hair and smiled. "Yes. And I'm very grateful for it."

We sat side by side on the beach, listening to the waves crash against the shore. The water was always cooler on the west coast, especially in the spring.

"I'm ready to go back home now," she said, staring out into the ocean. "I feel calmer now."

Shaking the sand off my wool pants, I straightened and stretched my hand out to her. Placing her hand in mine, I noticed her long red fingernails on my skin. It was an enticing vision that I quickly shook off. She sneezed and then groaned.

"Ah. I'm going to kill Trey for getting me sick."

After slapping the last bits of sand off of my suit jacket, I wrapped it around her shoulders. "Let's get you home," I said and smothered my smile as I imagined her wringing the boy's neck.

***

Hailey had been sleeping since we returned from the beach four hours ago. I checked on her twice, but her soft snores from her stuffed-up nose reassured me she was just tired.

My phone chimed, and an email popped up on the screen. Finally ! The background checks I filed for Hailey's employees came through. I walked through the white foyer and into the study on the right. Hailey assured me that she never used this room so I could set up my computer there.

After my laptop booted up, I scrolled through the reports. I checked the boyfriend's history first. His record was clean, no charges, no arrests, nothing. I couldn't even find a speeding ticket on the guy. That made me more suspicious. Either this guy made no mistakes or he had someone very good and very expensive clean them up for him quickly. I was sure it was the latter.

Hailey's publicist, Sam, also had no charges or arrest, as well as her social media manager Ingrid. Ingrid's employment history was very short, but she was young and that was expected.

Frankie, her manager, and Tessa, her producer, on the other hand, weren't as clean. I zoomed in to read all the details. Tessa had a long list of arrests and a few of the drug charges stuck. She wasn't dealing, but she was caught a few times in possession. Fortunately, she had a good lawyer or a lenient judge because she got out of them without much jail time other than an overnight stay.

Frankie's report wasn't as long as Tessa's, but he had been charged six years ago with assault and served six months in prison. I leaned back in my chair and considered the information. Frankie had served his time, so I wouldn't hold it against him. But if he punched the shit out of someone once, would he be more likely to do it again? Would he hit a woman? I knew not to judge people for their past actions, but I would keep an eye on him and watch how he treated Hailey. I wouldn't mention anything to her yet. I had nothing to go on other than his past.

My phone barked, and it was Will. "Hey, brother, what's happening?"

"Hey, nothing much. Just checking to see how you're settling in with the new assignment."

I rolled my eyes at his obvious attempt to determine if I was all right. "All good, Will. I just received the background checks and started reviewing them now."

"Good. Good. And, um, how are you doing?"

I chuckled. "I'm fine. Really. And since you're insisting, I'll say you were right. I just needed to get back on that horse again. It feels good to be focused on the job. There was just one little hiccup in the beginning, but it's all good now."

"Hiccup? What hiccup?"

"Oh, I put Hailey in a headlock the first night."

"What!" Will shouted. "What did you do that for?"

"I thought she was an intruder. It was a good thing I'd left my gun downstairs or she may have pissed her pants like her boyfriend did when I pulled my gun on him."

"You shot her boyfriend? Oh. My. God."

"I did not shoot her boyfriend, man. Calm the fuck down. I only put a gun to his head and made him piss himself." I smiled at the memory.

"Fuck, Christian. I think I was wrong. I don't think you're ready to be on the job."

I inhaled and exhaled slowly. I replayed my last words and realized why Will would have come to that conclusion. "Look, Will. I'm not good with words, you know that. Everything is fine. If you're worried, speak to Hailey directly. But I'm going to get back to work now."

"All right, all right. I'm sorry. Hailey hasn't called to complain, so I must be reading too much into what you're saying. It just sounded a little fucked up, man. But if you're saying everything is under control, I believe you."

"Thank you. How are Jake and Nikole?"

"Good. Jake texted. They just arrived in Bermuda and he sent a pic. Looks gorgeous."

"You should take some time and go. You haven't had any time off since we started this business three years ago, and I don't think you ever did before then, either."

Will snorted. "You're one to talk."

I shrugged. "Yeah. But I don't like to travel. You do."

"Used to," said Will, and I wondered not for the first time what had happened to him. But like all my brothers, we didn't like to talk about our past.

"Anyway, I just called to check in. Glad to hear you're back on the job."

"Thanks, brother. I'll let you know if I need anything."

"Good night."

"Good night."

I hung up the phone and shut down my laptop. My lungs expanded on a deep breath and then I slowly released it.

Turning off the lights, I walked the perimeter of the house, giving it one last look before bed. I checked her bedroom last. It was the largest one in the house and the most densely furnished. She had a king-sized bed, a floor-to-ceiling closet that expanded an entire wall, a ballet pole where I assumed she practiced dance, a writing corner with a desk, and a music corner with a guitar and keyboard.

She murmured in her sleep and turned over, mumbling something about bacon. I smiled and shut her door.

Sitting on my king-sized guest bed, I removed my shoes and unbuttoned my shirt. After undressing completely, I hung up my clothes and lined up my shoes by the bed. Finding my toothbrush inside the glass jar I'd set up earlier, I pushed a smooth dab of paste onto the brush. I replayed the events of the day in my head while I brushed, then wiped the top of the paste clean, hung up my towel, and fell into bed. Sleep blanketed my mind and body immediately. The trouble was never falling asleep…

***

My labored breaths echoed in my ears as I ran through the vacant town. A soldier whispered on the radio, "I'm cornered here. Someone, please, I need backup."

I grabbed my radio and pressed the button on the side. "I'm on my way. Hold on Jordan."

The building was only ten feet away, but there was at least a twenty-five-foot gap between where I stood and where the fallen soldier was hiding. I was no use to him dead, so I pressed my body against the wall and slowly peeked my head out, looking for any snipers.

Slowly now…

I stuck my head out and was blinded temporarily by the late afternoon sun in the west. A bullet whizzed by my head and I threw myself back against the wall. My chest heaved, rising, and falling with every quick breath.

Sniper. Ten o'clock.

"Someone's in here, hurry."

I pulled out a mirror from my vest and angled it toward the sniper. He sat on a flat rooftop of a small building directly across from me. The window next to me was blown out, so I jumped through it and landed on the concrete floor. My boots hammered against the ground as I ran through the building and pulled out my rifle. My back against the wall and my lungs burning from adrenaline, I pulled out my mirror to locate the sniper again.

He was still in the same spot. Either he hadn't noticed me leave or he knew exactly where I was. I was hoping it was the former. Crouching down onto the ground, I connected the scope to my rifle and pointed it out the open window. Through the scope, I realized the sniper was not alone. He had a spotter behind him. The spotter held a pair of binoculars to his eyes and moved them between the spot where I had stood earlier to where the other soldier was hiding. He was staring away from my building when I decided now was my chance to take the shot. But just as my finger tightened against the trigger, he spotted me. He shouted something and pointed in my direction.

Bang! Bang!

Two shots rang out.

The sniper went down and then the spotter next to him.

I moved my rifle back and forth, watching the top of the roof for any other movement or backup, but there was none.

Then, gunfire exploded inside the building next to me, where Jordan hid.

No!

I ran across the building and jumped out the window into the dusty street.

"Machado, this is Sergeant Grelo. Abort mission. Get out of there."

"I can make it, sir. I'm only a few feet away."

"The enemy has Jordan. The rescue mission is over. We will reassess back at camp."

They had a tracking device on me, so I didn't bother replying. They'd see me still moving toward Jordan's building. I had to try to save him. He was one of my brothers.

"This is an order, soldier. Stand down."

His words stopped me in my tracks. Not only was it my father's voice that I heard through the radio, but my body had been trained since I was a child that I never disobeyed a direct order.

Shouting reached my ears, and I knew in a matter of minutes the soldiers who had Jordan would soon be after me. They must have heard my earlier shots, or someone would have notified them on their radios.

Despite the overwhelming instinct to storm the building and rescue Jordan, my training was stronger. I turned around and ran back through the empty town and down the hill where I'd left my vehicle. I'd never been sent on a mission alone, but this was a desperate circumstance, and we knew there was little time to wait for backup. The slim chances of success were little comfort to me as I imagined the sort of torture Jordan would be going through.

I dropped my head on the steering wheel and screamed at the top of my lungs. I screamed and screamed until my throat burned and my voice strained. I shook the wheel and threw my head back, tears streamed down my face.

***

My hand was wet when I wiped it across my face.

Fuck

I had the dream again. It had been four years, and I still couldn't let it go. I rubbed my face and climbed out of bed. A cold shower always helped wash the demons away and start fresh.

I decided to check on Hailey first.

I slowly turned the brass knob on her door and peeked inside. She slept quietly in her bed, and her breathing sounded a lot better.

Returning to my room, I showered, dressed in a gray suit and black shirt. I'd packed cologne. It was part of my traveling case, but I rarely wore it. Today, however, I reached for it and sprayed it once on my shirt.

I hadn't remembered the last time I cared about what I smelled like. Hanging around celebrities must be rubbing off on me because it certainly had nothing to do with the fact that I noticed exactly how she smelled.

White tea with a hint of sage.