Page 14 of Fiery Romance

Giggles eruptfrom the back seat as I speed through traffic, keeping my eyes on the black SUV ahead.

All is going to plan.

I glance in the rear view mirror. Regan is kicking her ballet shoes and laughing uproariously at her tablet. Despite the tension, I leak a smile.

My kid is cute.

She doesn’t belong here. At all.

But she does brighten up the scene.

I better get this done quick, so I can take her home.

The mission is simple. Escort the VIP to their location and then clear out. If it was something more complicated, I wouldn’t drag Regan here even if they tortured me. But this? We’ve got this well in hand.

I’m wearing a wire headpiece, listening to the chatter. On the dashboard screen, there’s a bright image. The seven green arrows are my newest recruits. The one red dot is the VIP.

Static fills my ears and then a voice says, “Boss.”

“Here.”

“Fifteen minutes to the venue.”

I check my watch. “Send the A team to escort the VIP inside.”

“You coming with?”

I glance at the back seat again. Regan catches me peeking at her and smiles cutely. She lifts a hand in a wave, causing the bracelet her mother gave her to dance down her dark arm.

Nodding in response, I point my attention back to the road. “I’m carrying precious cargo.”

“Come on, Bolton. I can’t do this alone. You’re the only one who can put the fear of God in these newbs. You know what they did before we cleared out?”

“What?”

“Took selfies.”

I snort.

“They must think they’re lining up to audition forThe Bodyguardreboot.”

I chuckle. “Ridiculous. There’s only one Whitney Houston.”

“Ain’t that the truth. What are they feeding kids these days?”

My team leader has a point. This generation of new recruits is certainly… something. The selfies, I don’t mind so much, but the attitudes are a far cry from what was instilled in me while in service.

Back then, we didn’t question orders, but today? Young adults don’t outgrow their ‘why’ stage? So eager to ‘be equal’ with authority, they don’t stop to think about what ‘authority’ could teach them.

Maybe I’m a little too old school. Or maybe this new school trend is beyond my understanding. Either way, I don’t tolerate nonsense and everyone seems to instinctually shape up when I arrive.

“Fine. I’ll take the VIP to the door. You handle the rest.”

“Done.”

On the screen, the red dot stops moving. The green arrows form a straight line. Through my window, I note all the SUVs parking neatly to the side.

I find a spot far from the venue and keep the car running. It’s been an unusually hot day and I don’t want Regan trapped in here without air conditioning.

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