AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Sir? It’s barely midday.”
Jamie grinned wickedly. “Even better.”
Chapter 3
The Hamptons were nice. Chris had grown up in Brooklyn but had never been to this side of New York before, the part owned mostly by the rich and the famous, with large mansions and expensive clubs. Nobody batted an eyelid at the line of shiny black Secret Service cars making their way through East Hampton to the Barratt Mansion.
Regarding Barratt, Chris was pleasantly surprised to find that, after their exchange on the plane, he was starting to see Jamie in a whole new light. First impressions were important, but not always accurate, he realized. From the moment they reached the airport, Jamie seemed determined to treat Chris more like a friend than a guardian.
The house was large and full of windows—all bulletproof, of course. The amount of times Foster had tried to convince the president to make it less open and transparent, and less of a death trap, had been innumerable. But the president had refused to yield, hence the glass was so heavily reinforced that Chris doubted a nuclear blast could displace it.
Jamie settled in fast. Chris was put up in the room next to his, and the other servicemen who had made the trip with them had settled down in the guest house. The president’s son got as much security as the president herself.
He was roped into eating a superb taglietelle that Jamie made himself, then tried hard not to fall asleep during aFriendsmarathon that his charge put on the TV that evening. He was just glad that Jamie hadn’t wanted to go out that night.
His bed was comfortable, a lot bigger than what he was used to, and he slept well the whole of the first night until Jamie hammering on his door awakened him.
“CHRIS!” he yelled. “I need to take Boomer for a walk. Are you coming, or should I ask one of the Blues Brothers?”
“Uh…” Chris started, reaching for his gun before he realized that there was no need, and reached for his watch instead. It wasn’t much past seven A.M. “No. I mean, yeah. Give me five minutes.”
He heard Jamie chuckling, then talking enthusiastically to the dog as he walked away. Chris ran a hand through his hair, then got out of bed and searched through his bag for something appropriate to wear.
By the time he got downstairs, Jamie and Boomer were already waiting by the door. Chris slotted his gun into the holster, then covered it with his hoodie before following them outside.
It was a brisk February morning and the wind coming in off the Atlantic was freezing. They jogged along the stretch and back in half an hour before hurrying inside for showers. Afterward, Jamie wanted to run some errands.
“You know,” said Chris, laughing, “you can’t just use the Secret Service cars for Starbucks runs whenever you want.”
“Of course I can,” Jamie replied, grinning at him. “For one, how am I supposed to get a decent Frap if I can’t drive to get one? And second, you have to do what I say—I’m your boss.”
“Oh, so that’s the way it is, huh?”
“That’s the way it is. Now get your ass in the car and drive me to Starbucks!”
Chris was quite happy to do it this time, as Jamie was much less obnoxious. Boomer spent the whole trip with his head out of the window in typical dog fashion. Chris even got himself a latte and they drove to the beach front to drink their beverages and let Boomer have another run around.
“So, what’s your story, Chris Roberts?” Jamie asked as they watched Boomer chase birds. “I seem to have done most of the talking so far, so now it’s your turn.”
Chris took a small sip of his latte and shrugged. “Not much to tell, really. I grew up in Brooklyn with my mom. Dad was in the army…he died years ago. I sort of joined to follow in his footsteps.”
“Why did you leave?”
Chris thought about it for a second. “I guess that I went over there thinking I could make a difference, that I was going to be protecting people, but the longer I was over there the more I felt like it just made everything worse for all parties involved. It got to the end of my time, and when they offered me more, I realized I just couldn’t do it.”
Jamie stared at him with the most serious look Chris had seen on him yet.
“I know exactly what you mean,” he replied. “And I guess I’ve seen my last tour. The army won’t put me back on active service because I’m not physically fit. They offered me a desk job, but that’s not really where I want to spend the rest of my days. So, I think I’ll get out.”
Chris gave him a small smile. “What do you think you’ll do instead?”
Jamie grinned widely. “Maybe I’ll work in Starbucks!”
* * * *
One of the best things about the house in the Hamptons was the indoor pool. It was small—only ten meters—but it was heated, and he could pump music into the room that echoed amazingly off the cool tiles. He could also dim the lights or get them to cycle through colors, and best of all, the floor-to-ceiling window faced the sea. Jamie enjoyed just floating in there, his arms resting on the side and his feet kicking lazily behind him as he watched the waves break and crash against the shore. It was soothing, peaceful.
It had taken Jamie a long time to get comfortable around water again. When the rescue squad had finally blown up the bunker and busted out him and his fellow prisoners, it had taken them three days to get Jamie anywhere near a shower, and even then, it had been under sedation with three medics to assist.
