Page 34 of Protect Your Queen

“I wanted to tell her myself, but I just don’t think the opportunity will come up.” He let out a sigh, his shoulders slumping in resignation. “You see, I’m just a driver. I know it. I was a soldier in the 82ndAirborne but…”

“All the Way!” I said, using the motto and greeting of that unit, because I had been one of them once too. Not that Delta did any of those greetings, because we were too cool for such “regular” Army shit, but it was different in the civilian world. This 82ndAirborne Infantry connection made me and Brian the best of buddies, even if we served decades apart.

“Yeah, I heard you were something special. Delta, and all that. I admire that.” Brian clasped his hands in front of him and nodded his head. “I met your people down in Mogadishu. Ya’ll are real hard chargers, and I appreciate that. But I also know how soldiers can be. So I stuck around to see what kind of man you were.”

He looked sideways as he chewed his bottom lip.

“I became her bodyguard because she wouldn’t allow anyone else near her. She can be a little… mistrustful… of men. And she has every reason to be. I didn’t want to leave her with some hard charger that only cares about one thing, you know what I mean?”

He lifted his head to the nape of his neck, embarrassed by the confession. He turned around and waved me into the office, where a half-packed bag lay on the table.

“I’ve seen how men treat her. I’ve seen a fraction of what she’s gone through, and I just wanted to tell you that she...” He stood up straight, as if trying to figure out exactly what he needed to convey. “I just wanted to say that she’s more than what she seems. She’s this way because others have been less than what they should be to her.” He folded a shirt and put it in the bag, then looked over at me. “You get what I’m saying?”

“Be nice to her,” I summarized.

“She’s been through more than people give her credit for.”

Christ, I really just wanted this guy to stay. Jestiny was going to be crushed.

“Well, enough about an old man talking about his favorite client,” he said with a small smile. “The real reason I called you in was to tell you that she should never be alone with Michael Dryden.”

Well, that surprised the hell out of me. I waited for him to continue.

“He’s not a good man. I just don’t trust him.”

“You think he’s the one trying to hurt her?”

“I don’t know. I just don’t trust him.” He looked up at me, his white, caterpillar brows coming together. “So just do an old man a favor: make sure she’s not in a room alone with him. I’ll retire a lot easier knowing that.”

I clapped him on the back, and shook his hand, which was promise enough, then left him to his packing.

“If she’s not too mad at me, I’d like to be there during her concert, though,” he called out. “Me and my wife. I’ll pay for a ticket and everything but…”

“I’ll make sure you’ve got what you need,” I promised. “Mad or not, she would want you there.”

I walked back into the center of the house, to the living room. The Spanish-style home was built around this common area, with the bedrooms surrounding it on all sides. It was a home that begged for the space to be filled with friends and family. But as far as I saw, it was just her.

And now me: the help.

I brought up my Caledonia-issued phone and dialed the first number on the log.

“You a’right, man?” I recognized Callum MacLachlan’s voice. I could hear the rustle of papers on the other end.

“The answer to that is subjective,” I said with a slight sigh, finally taking a seat at the Baldwin piano I had coveted. The black lid hid the keys under its glossy curves.

The urge to croon “Yeah, baby, you like that?”as I caressed the smooth finish was strong. But I don’t think my boss would appreciate hearing me talk dirty to this beauty.

“Report,” Callum ordered. The rustle of papers on his end had stopped, and I heard the deadly silence, punctuated by the rumble of something that sounded like air conditioning. Maybe an engine? Was he in a car?

“There were shots fired. I was grazed in the arm. The client is unharmed.”

Those were three simple sentences I had rehearsed in my head when the Detectives had stopped me from calling in like I was supposed to.

Lea had drilled it in my head during training. As soon as the fog cleared, you call in. If someone is injured, you call on the way to the hospital. If you’re dead, you resurrect yourself and call-the-fuck-in. If anyone gets so much as a bruise, you call it in.

“You were grazed by what?” Callum’s severe voice was making my head ache. Stress, really. He sounded angry that I had been hurt. Maybe he considered it a failure on my part. I wasn’t sure.

“A bullet.”

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