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We do that guy thing where we shake hands and pat each other’s upper back. You know? The bro hug double back pat?
I’ve always found it strange. We see each other all the time. We’re not being introduced either, and it’s not like I’m congratulating him for something. So why do we do this?
No clue, but it is the way of my people.
“Not on detail today?” I ask him.
“Just got off. Working a half day because I’m taking Kri to an appointment.”
“She okay?”
His smile grows. The smitten fool. “She’s great. It’s just another CT scan to make sure she’s still moving in the right direction with her recovery.”
Shep’s lady love, Kri, is one of our coworkers. She suffered a traumatic brain injury when she was ambushed on a detail a few months ago. I’ll never forget how gutted Shep was the night we found her on the side of the road, bludgeoned and bloody. His anguish during the hours we spent in the hospital waiting room is branded into my mind, as is how he fell to his knees when he got word that she’d made it through surgery.
That’s love.
Even if he didn’t know it at the time. He knows it now, though.
It doesn’t make me one bit jealous.
Sounded believable, didn’t it?Well, gotcha!I was full of shit. I’m ridiculously jealous.
Although Kri hasn’t been cleared to return to bodyguard duties yet, she’ll make it back one day. No doubt.
Funny thing is, part of what made me more determined than ever to get a position behind the scenes instead of in the field was Kri’s accident.
It’s not that I’m afraid of being hurt— well, no more so than anyone else. It’s that I can’t risk getting hurt and not being able to take care of Ma.
I’m all she has down here. My sister and her family live in Atlanta. So it’s on me to care for our mother. If I got taken out, what would happen to her?
Even something simple like a broken leg or a minor gunshot wound could make it harder for me to get to Ma if she needs me. It’s a risk I can no longer take in good conscience.
Caroline’s already said she wants to put our mother in a residential nursing facility since we’re not equipped to care for her.
I can’t allow that.
Maybe it’s pigheaded of me, but I’m simply not ready.
Shep taps the elevator call button. “So how is it going with Mia?”
Oh, come on, man. Can’t we talk about something else? Like politics or religion? Something less incendiary than Mia.
Shep’s forehead wrinkles, and he eyes me cautiously.
“She’s doing good. Fast learner.”
Gotta do better than that, kid. You’re not fooling anyone.
The elevator doors open, giving me a spark of hope that he’ll say goodbye so we don’t have to talk about my nemesis anymore.
But the feeling is dashed when he plants his feet, crosses his arms, and stares me down. “Talk.”
I motion to the elevator with an open palm and playful butler bow. “Your car awaits, sir. You don’t want to be late for your engagement.”
His sky blue eyes sparkle with mirth. “Thanks for your concern, dick, but I’m good on time.”
And he waits.
