Page 1 of Bodied

CHAPTER1

WESLEY

Every time Wesley Pierce put on a formal suit for his new job, it felt like the first time. He was convinced he would never get used to it. Too much of his life had been spent in a military uniform for him to be comfortable in formal wear like this — at least, not on the job. If he were attending a ceremonial event where he wouldn’t be expected to be on guard, maybe this sort of thing made sense. But tonight, he’d be expected to protect the newly elected senator Anne Bartlett with his life, and he was expected to do so in formal attire. It was ridiculous.

His boss acted like limiting his freedom of movement with a coat like this one, for example, wouldn’t even slow him down. But in the world of politics, image mattered as much as anything else. So he was expected to risk his life in a tailored suit rather than fatigues.

“Just consider it a deliberate challenge,” his roommate said, seeing the face Wesley made in the mirror. “Like running in heels.”

Jon had lived with Wesley for the last five years. He also worked in security, but for celebrities rather than politicians. Sometimes Wesley envied him. His job seemed far more exciting and far less stressful. He got paid to attend concerts, while Wesley got stuck with charity dinners and the like. At least tonight’s event was celebratory. Anne Bartlett had just won her election, and she was expected to schmooze with donors and other supporters. Wesley and the others in his team were there to make sure none of Senator Bartlett’s supporters were wolves in sheep’s clothing.

“Running in heels is only a useful skill if you go around wearing heels all the time,” Wesley countered, securing his cufflinks with a smirk. “Well, do you?”

Jon laughed. “Only on very special occasions.”

Wesley’s roommate had always been his polar opposite. Where Jon was tall and thin, Wesley was burly with a broad chest and shoulders. Where Jon had dark, curly hair that he styled daily, Wesley’s was buzzed short. And where Jon was an incurable jokester, Wesley rarely cracked a smile. They balanced each other out perfectly, but Wesley knew it wasn’t to last. Soon, Jon would find a girl and settle down, and Wesley would have to find a new roommate because settling down was not something he ever planned to do. However many people trusted Wesley with their lives, he could never trust anyone with his.

He triple-checked that his weapons were in place and properly secured. Then he buttoned his jacket and pocketed his wallet and keys. His cell phone rang before he managed to get his shoes on. It had to be work calling, primarily because no one else ever actually called — they texted. For some reason, Anne Bartlett insisted that every security conversation, however mundane, be off the record, which meant actual calls. Wesley suspected that, deep down, she was just a bit old-fashioned and preferred the idea of more personal contact among those in her employ.

“Pierce,” said the voice on the other end of the line. It was his boss, which was no surprise. “I have an assignment for you.”

Wesley frowned into the receiver. “I’m already on my way to the gala,” he said. “I won’t be available for another assignment unless you’ve covered my position.”

“This is a related assignment,” Eva said. There was no hint of humor in her voice. “Senator Bartlett wants you to pick up her daughter and accompany her to the gala.”

“I’m sorry?” Wesley couldn’t help scowling. This wasn’t what he’d signed up for. “I’m not a taxi or a babysitter.”

“You are tonight, Pierce.” Eva sighed on the other line. “Her name is Lauren Bartlett. I’ll send you the address. Listen, just do the job. I know you’re used to pulling rank to some degree, but now isn’t the time for it. Senator Bartlett is worried for her daughter. There have been whisperings that a fringe group is unhappy about her election, and it’s put her on edge. Part of what we do is to make our clients feel comfortable, and if that means sending a former marine to get her daughter to the gala safely, then that’s what we’ll do. Do you understand?”

Wesley took a deep breath and agreed, though it felt like he was being sidelined due to his newness. He supposed, if this was a test, he’d just have to pass it with flying colors to prove himself worthy. After hanging up, he mumbled, “I guess I’m a taxi, after all.”

“What’s that?” Jon asked. “You driving someone?”

“The senator’s daughter.” Wesley sat to tie his shoes. “A likely spoiled princess, in my experience. Who would target the daughter? It makes no sense. More likely, she just couldn’t get another ride.”

Jon sniggered at the unintended innuendo. “That’s what she?—”

“Don’t.” Wesley cut in before his roommate could make his worst and unfortunately favorite joke. “Don’t say it.”

Jon just shrugged. “Maybe she’s cute.”

“She could be a supermodel — it won’t change the fact that she’s annoying as hell.”

“You haven’t even met her. Give the kid a chance.” Jon was always on the optimistic side of their arguments. He was also usually wrong.

“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” When Jon rolled his eyes, Wesley added, “Don’t worry, I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt for the first fifteen minutes.”

Jon laughed as Wesley made his way out the front door. “You’re too brutal, man. Lighten up a little!”

But Wesley never felt like lightening up was something he could do. He’d been on guard his whole life, from his parents’ divorce to his time in the military. His being hyper-vigilant had always been the one thing he seemed to get right. It was part of why he’d been given this job in the first place, despite how badly he felt it was treating him now. No, there was no room for relaxation in his life. Maybe one day, but not yet. Not today.

* * *

Fifteen minutes after pulling up to Lauren Bartlett’s apartment building, Wesley withdrew the benefit of the doubt. They were late, and the girl hadn’t even made an appearance — no text message, no phone call, nothing to indicate she knew she was late and would be down soon. He’d waited so long that he’d been forced to find street parking rather than wait outside the main entrance. It was all highly unusual.

Wesley ground his teeth and put his car in park. The vehicle had been provided by his job. With unassuming black paint and darkly tinted windows, it was meant to blend in. Wesley disagreed that it served its purpose, but the tinted windows were nice. It looked exactly like the sort of car someone highly important might be traveling in. Unfortunately, today, that wouldn’t be the case.

He made his way across the street to the building. The lobby was one of those fancy ones he never really felt comfortable in. All the surfaces were marble and gold, and all the ceilings were vaulted. His own footsteps echoed in the space as he made his way across the lobby to the elevators. There didn’t appear to be a button to push to call an elevator down — just some panel. Wesley waved his hand in front of it, but nothing changed. Lauren Bartlett lived on the tenth floor, and he was beginning to suspect she didn’t even know he’d been sent to pick her up.

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