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“You should be posted at one of the doors,” Ian Wreath tells me, like he’s my boss or something.
An Alpha bodyguard pipes in, “The clients don’t need a play-by-play of what’s happening in security.”
Not giving them one, but thanks for caring.They’re bugging me, really, and this sorta bullshit doesn’t usually get under my skin that easily.
Their echo chamber of “Donnelly Sucks, Let Him Know” has been in my ear since I arrived with Luna. Helping find Luna at a South Philly row house—that wasn’t a brownie point to Triple Shield bodyguards.
They’re aggravated that I’m friendly with Luna enough to cross a line betweenbodyguardandclientright now. A line that I know most of Triple Shield reestablished when Beckett almost got attacked on Halloween.
After what happened to Luna and Lily, it’s now written in stone for them:Don’t be friends with clients. Stay serious. Stay alert. No buddyguards allowed.
When they figure out I’m more than friends with her, there might be another civil war between the two security firms, but this one feels like a long-time coming.
“When’s the take-down?” Eliot suddenly asks.
My head swerves to him. “The what?”
He closes his lighter. “Sean Donnelly. He can’t walk free. After all he’s done—”
“Did he do anything bad himself?” Luna asks them, then looks to me for answers.
“He wasinvolved,” Tom emphasizes. “That’s way more than enough.”
Eliot nods, “He’s a part of it all. He should pay.”
My blood is ice, and I can’t disagree with them. My dad isn’t all that good. He’s been a shit parent and a bad person deserving of prison time, which he’s paid. That being said, Luna wouldn’t be here without him, and for me, that’s worth too much in my head.
“I’m taking care of it,” is all I tell them.
Eliot pockets the lighter. “You need a helping hand, I’m always available for payback.”
“Nah, I got it,” I say easily. “Payback’s a bitch and my favorite one.” Not all true. I haven’t been completely revenge-hearted, or else I would’ve transformed into John Wick and slaughtered my whole family decades ago. But Eliot doesn’t catch my humor since he doesn’t know me all that well.
“Like minds,” he replies.
Comms go off abruptly in my ear.
“You going to be over there all afternoon, Donnelly?” a bodyguard snaps.
“What do you have to talk to them about?” another says.
I click my mic at my collar and whisper, “Maybe you should be worrying about what’s happening to your face. It’s looking pretty ugly.”
A few guys growl out my name, along withfuck you.
“I’ll fuck myself later, thanks for caring,” I mutter over comms.
Luna whispers to me, “Security is glaring really meanly at you.”
I refuse to glance back at them. “We’re not seeing eye to eye right now about something.” Suddenly, my new phone beeps, and I take out my cell.
AKARA
SFO emergency meeting in 30 mins. Penthouse library.
My pulse spikes into my throat. “I’ve gotta go back to the penthouse,” I say quietly to Luna and show her the text. “Enough temps are here that’ll protect you while I’m gone—”
“I can come with you.” She’s hopping off the stool, and even though it might be better to protest and tell her to stay, I don’t.
