Page 5 of Divine

I didn’t realize I was on my feet until we were toe to toe. Someone grabbed my shoulder, but I snatched away from them. Focusing on the disrespectful ass owner of the company I was about to resign from, I spoke.

“Who the fuck you talking to, nigga? I’m not your boy,” I snarled.

It didn’t matter that Jack Walsh was white. As far as I was concerned, he was still a nigga.

“Chill out, Liam. Let’s take a walk, my man,” Carl suggested, walking over to try to defuse the tension.

“Nah, fuck him and fuck this bullshit job. Don’t you ever speak to me like that again,boy!” I barked before turning on my heels and pushing my way out of the door.

Like I said, fuck Jack Walsh and the company he owned. There was no way I was going to last working under himandhis disrespectful ass son without catching a charge. I was done with Safety Pros.

* * *

For three whole weeks, I didn’t even think about looking for another job. It felt good just getting some rest for a change instead of constantly running between venues and sucking up all of the overtime that I could like I had been doing for the past few years. Even if I did need the money, I knew I couldn’t stay at Safety Pros.

It was just a matter of time before I put the owner’s sons’ head through a wall. I had done well not to knock Walsh’s block off with his little sideways comments every time he was on the scene, but I would be damned if I let someone almost young enough to be my own damn son talk crazy to me. It wasn’t my job to teach the boy how to act, but I had no problem taking on the task. Instead of risking being sent back to prison for some nonsense, I went on my way. Anger management had taught me how to diffuse or move away from a triggering situation before it got out of hand.

Money wasn’t an object because I didn’t buy anything but shoes. Still, after three weeks of self-appointed vacation, I was starting to get antsy. I enjoyed my time off, but I liked having something to do and somewhere to go on a regular basis.

I put a few irons in the fire and was pleasantly surprised to get some call backs within a week. Although he was pissed at me for blowing up at the company owner, Carl put in the good word for me with some people he knew and got me an interview for a gig on a personal security detail. It was just the type of thing I had been looking for.

Not only did it sound like a sweet set up, but my salary would almost double. I had no idea what type of celebrity I would be looking out for, but I was excited to get to work. Jobs like this were easy as hell, and with what I stood to make, I had my fingers crossed that I would get the position. As I sat in the smoothie bar designated for the interview, a woman came over to greet me.

“Hi. You’re one of the interview candidates, right?”

“Yeah,” I confirmed.

“Can I get you something?” she asked.

“Get me your best seller,” I said, deciding that the drinks were worth trying. Besides, we were using their facility for an interview. It felt rude to sit here without ordering anything.

“Do you have any allergies? Our new drink is a play on pineapple upside down cake.”

“No allergies,” I answered. That shit actually sounded good.

The door dinged, and I looked up in time to see a tall, stocky figure coming through the door. The dude walked like he was the king of Zamunda as he moved past the counter. He lowered a dark pair of shades and looked around the room. There was only me and a couple of women in the smoothie bar at the time. The fact that he didn’t go to the counter made me consider that he was the man I was here to see.

I barely had the chance to wonder if he was there to meet me because once he spotted me he made a beeline in my direction. The nigga was big as hell. I was six foot five, and as I stood, I realized he was almost as tall as me. It was rare that I encountered someone who could see eye to eye with me.

“Liam?” he inquired, stifling my curiosity.

“Yeah.” I nodded.

“What’s up, man? I’m Syre Reign, the owner of Syre Security,” he revealed, extending his hand.

“Nice to meet you, man,” I said as I shook his hand.

“You big as shit,” he noted.

“You’re not a little guy yourself.” I chuckled.

He scoffed. “Yeah, but you one of them ol’ big, sexy niggas.”

“Man, what?” I frowned.

Is this nigga being serious right now?I wanted the job, but I wasn’t on no freaky shit.

“I’m just saying that’s cool and all, but ain’t no room for that here. You can be as sexy and wear as much Creed cologne as you want to, but you will be there to do a job. If you value your life, you’ll do it without the extra shit. She don’t need a man. She needs protection. I just came back from hiding a nigga that couldn’t grasp the concept of not being extra if you catch my drift.”

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