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Chapter 2
Zane
“The buy-in is five thousand dollars, sir,” the blackjack dealer informs us.
Heath claps me on the back with a hearty chuckle. “What do you say, big bro? Feel like losing five K?”
Knox, my youngest brother, rolls his eyes. “Shouldn’t you be saving this money for your honeymoon? Maybe a house? I’m sure Darlene would love a house.”
Heath grasps Knox by the shoulders and shakes him. “We’re in Vegas for my bachelor party, my man! Quit being such a stick in the mud. We’re here to havefun. Ever heard of it?”
“I don’t know what Darlene sees in you.”
Heath pouts. “Zane, tell Knox he’s being an ass.”
I don’t say anything. I reach into the inside pocket of my suit jacket and pull out five of the purple casino chips I’ve been carrying around. There’s plenty more where that came from, but I’m silently hoping Heath doesn’t intend to burn all our money in one place.
“Knock yourself out,” I tell him. “But if you lose it all, I’m cutting you off.”
Heath beams, his smile brighter than the sun. “This is why you’re my favorite brother.”
Knox huffs. “You shouldn’t be encouraging this behavior. Blowing that kind of money—in this economy?”
“Relax,” I tell him. “Our first contract starts the day after New Year’s. We’ll be making five grand an hour.”
He shifts his weight from foot to foot, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “I still haven’t changed my mind, Zane. This client… I don’t think he’s good news. All my preliminary reports—”
“I know, I know.”
“Do you?”
“Look, we’re not protecting him. Just his wife. Phillips Security will have nothing to do with any of his…dealings.”
Knox, ever the worrywart, gives me a pointed look. “You’re really willing to turn a blind eye?”
I set my jaw. Our situation isn’t ideal. After returning home from serving several tours in Afghanistan, my brothers and I have always struggled to readjust to civilian life. I thought I could do it, but it ate away at me. The stillness. The mundanity. It was enough to drive me crazy sometimes. I could tell Heath and Knox were struggling, too.
Our foray into private security made sense. Not as intense as active duty, but certainly better than taking up construction or accounting or whatever it is normal people think good, honest work is.
Heath was the one—in all his hyperactivity and restlessness—who suggested starting up Phillips Security. Knox—the wisest and most cynical of us Phillips brothers—knew how oversaturated the market would be. Everyone and their mother seems to have a security firm these days, but I was determined to see it through.
It took longer than I wanted, but I finally managed to get everything in order. As head of our operation, I secured the appropriate licenses and signed a gazillion different forms. My brothers and I landed our first client not even two nights ago. At the time it felt fortuitous.
Until we dug a little deeper.
“It’s not our job to judge,” Heath argues as he takes a seat at the blackjack table. “Just to keep the woman out of harm’s way. Everyone deserves to feel safe, don’t they?”
Much to my surprise, Knox doesn’t have a response prepared. Instead, he mumbles something about needing a drink before wandering off.
Heath sighs. “I hope he comes back in time to watch me double my money. That way I can really rub it in his face.”
“Maybe the kid has a point,” I state firmly. “They’d probably pay us in blood money.”
The dealer gives me a look, suspicion and wariness in her eyes. It probably isn’t smart to be tossing words around so casually.
“Kid?” Heath chuckles as his cards are dealt. He gets a ten of hearts and a two of diamonds. The dealer only has a queen of clubs showing face. “Knox turned thirty-six this year,” my brother continues. “He’s hardly a kid anymore.”
“He certainly acts like he’s a kid with all his whining and foot stomping.”
