Page 4 of Daddy Enforcer
“Okay, so anyone going to hit the button to receive our briefs?” I ask. “Fuck it, I’ll do it.”
With that, I send a message to Mr. G, the Guard’s coordinator…
MAX: Operatives in location, as instructed. 3xTeam + 1xSolo. Ready and awaiting instruction, location secure, all clear. Await response.
As expected, Mr. G doesn’t waste any time in sending the relevant messages to each of us. As Cole, Henry, and Connor read their messages, I quickly sense a hum of excitement rush over them. But when I open my message, any thought that I might be the lucky one in getting the solo mission is soon replaced by something else entirely…
“You have to be fucking kidding me,” I growl. “What have I done to deserve…this?”
“Oh shit. Someone got a bad op,” Connor laughs, fist-bumping Henry with glee. “Talk to us, soldier…”
“Babysitting,” I reply. “And not even a politician or rebel scientist either. A damned celebrity.”
Before I know it, I’m being playfully punched and jabbed at by my fellow Guards. Very occasionally, a job like this will crop up. While the Guard typically only handle the most serious and dangerous operations, a curveball—typically from an extremely rich or super-famous client—will see us pretty much put to work as a babysitter.
And today, that babysitter is none other than me.
“Who?” Cole asks, barely able to contain his laughter.
“Some damn singer,” I grumble, shaking my head and not remotely amused. “And I guess that’s why this was the meeting point. Rendezvous is a couple of hours away. Then I’m driving him to some remote cabin. Great. Real great. I don’t even want to know what you sonsofbitches are doing. I don’t think I can handle the jealousy.”
“Don’t worry man,” Cole says, getting up from his chair along with the others. “We’ll tell you all about it when we’re back. That’s if your pop star boy hasn’t driven you crazy.”
“Yeah, man,” Henry adds. “Tell me, how are your marshmallow toastie skills?”
With that, the guys all shake my hand and make their way out of the lobby. We’ve got a great bond, but when the assignment arrives, there’s no time for friendship or long goodbyes. It very suddenly—and very definitely—becomes all about the business.
“Laters,” I call out, a wistful tone in my voice. “See you on the other side.”
I double check my watch. I’ve got time for one more espresso before I hit the road. I signal to the barista for a fresh one, and then set out doing a little research on this Billie B.
It might not be an extraction job deep in the jungle, or a gunfight with a warlord’s best kill squad, but if I’m going to be guarding this boy then I’m still going to treat it like any other job and give it the same due diligence too…
The boy was pretty much everything I’d expected, plus an extra level of pop star brattiness and sass on top. But I’ve not heard a word out of him for the last forty minutes of this drive.
I look up into the rearview mirror and watch as he stares passively out of the passenger window, a look of sadness in his eyes. Damn, I hope I haven’t been too harsh with him—but I had to lay down the law when I met him, and there was no way I was going to show any sign of weakness after that either.
But a happy client is an easy client, or so Mr. G always says.
“All good back there?” I ask, switching my line of sight between the long, covered road ahead and the rearview mirror.
“Oh, I’m having ablast,” Billie answers, flashing a look up toward the rearview mirror before quickly averting his gaze.
“Hey, it could be worse,” I reply, trying to sound a little gentler than the early precedent I’ve set for myself. “This is all about keeping you safe. Don’t worry, it won’t be forever. I can promise you that.”
“Sure, Max,” Billie answers, this time not even breaking away from staring out of the passenger window as snow gently falls against it as I slow down for a long, looping corner. “This isn’t my first rodeo. I’ve had security threats before. But…”
“But?” I enquire, navigating the corner and then dropping down a gear as I take a left and put us on a long, upward trajectory into the forest that surrounds the mountain range.
“This feels different,” Billie says, flashing his eyes to the rearview mirror and holding my gaze.
There’s no denying it… Billie has beautiful eyes.
He’s got the fullest, reddest lips I’ve ever seen too.
And the way his cheekbones frame his face is something else.
Put it this way, I don’t need to have listened to his albums to see why he had made such a success out of his career as a pop star. As far as his looks go, he’s got it all. He might be young at twenty-two, but there’s a wiseness to eyes that’s hard to dismiss—it’s like he’s lived three whole lives already.
