Page 15 of Close Protection

‘I bet she’d look real good freshly fu—’

Before he can say another word I bring his free arm up towards me and twist it the wrong way, breaking his wrist with a loud crack.

He screams out in pain. ‘You bastar—’

‘Shut your mouth,’ I spit, ‘or I’ll break each finger individually.’ I lean closer into him. ‘And that’s not a threat. It’s a promise.’ And just like magic, guess who stops talking?

I keep grasping his broken wrist with one hand, adding just a little bit of pressure to discourage the guy from doing anything stupid, and search his pants and jacket pockets, finding a burner phone and a wallet. I put the phone on the floor and open up his wallet. ‘Stefan Mikelson, age thirty-four.’

‘Good for you, you know my name,’ he remarks.

The man has the sass of a Chihuahua.

‘I thought I told you to shut your mouth,’ I respond,snapping his thumb back, offering a right hook to his jaw. Leaning over, I pick up his discarded gun, take the blunt edge of the handle and smash it into his temple, knocking him out before he has a chance to make any more irritating quips. With his head turned, in a very uncomfortable position, I see a faint tattoo on his lower neck. Moving his sweater down, the full tattoo comes into view. It’s a skull, with the eyes in the shape of letterDs, and a chess knight set atop it.

The Daveeno tattoo.

‘Is this okay?’ Daphne comes up beside me, slightly breathless, before offering me the duct tape.

‘Yeah, this can work.’ Dropping the gun I take the tape from her, ripping off a piece and covering his mouth.

‘Is his hand supposed to bend that way?’ she asks, her delicately arched eyebrows drawing together in concern as she chews on her plump bottom lip.

‘Nope.’

‘Huh,’ she murmurs, looking up at me. ‘Maybe you really are as good as they say, Mr Petrov.’

‘Just doing my job, Miss Green.’

She searches my eyes with such intensity that I feel my blood start to heat. My gaze falls to her mouth as it parts, as if she’s about to say something, before we’re interrupted by the sound of the front door opening.

‘Do you think that’s one of his friends?’ Daphne whispers,looking nervously over to the unconscious nuisance in front of us.

‘I don’t know. Stay here.’ I grab Stefan’s gun from the floor in front of me and quickly cock it, moving slowly towards the door, pausing when I hear talking and… moaning?

‘Shh, you don’t want to wake everyone.’

Is that…?

‘Everyone’s asleep, gorgeous, it’s just you and me.’

Yup.

I turn the corner, only to be met with the sight of Henry pushing Amelia against the front door as they make out. I put the safety of the gun back on and clear my throat just as Henry starts kissing his way down Amelia’s neck. Her eyes open slightly at the sound of me, and the haze quickly leaves them as she comes to her senses and swiftly pushes Henry off her.

‘Milosh, oh my goodness!’ Amelia breathes, pulling her dress down briskly. ‘What are you doing up so late?’ Upon hearing Amelia’s voice, Daphne turns the corner, and at the sight of her bruises and the bloodstains on her pyjamas, the Harrises quickly jump into parental mode.

‘What happened?’ Henry demands, any trace of desire or humour gone. I simply pocket the gun and lead them towards Mr Inconvenience so they can see for themselves.

‘I’ll call the police,’ Amelia declares, taking in the scene.

‘No.’

‘What?’ Both she and Daphne look at me as if I’ve told them I decided to take up knitting as a career.

‘No police,’ I instruct again. ‘This guy –’ I give him a little kick, just because I can – ‘clearly wanted something here that he couldn’t find at George’s work. Me and Henry will search the house to make sure he didn’t come with a friend. Then we’ll wake George, questionhimand go from there. But for now, no police.’

8MILOSH

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