Saviour Boy (The All American Boy Series)

by S. L. Sterling

  I nodded, making a mental note to do that in the morning as my brother started checking windows and the sliding door to the balcony in both the living room and my bedroom. “You keep these doors locked all the time, right?”

  “Yep, along with the one in my bedroom.”

  He fiddled with the little lock on the door, managing to open it while it was locked. “These locks are shit. They are really easy to open. Burglars can open most with a credit card if they do it correctly. Do you have an old broom or mop handle you can place down into the track?”

  I nodded. “I will just take them off the broom and mop,” I said, rushing to the utility closet and removing both and laying them in the track of the doors.

  “Okay, leave it with me. I’m going to look into getting you a security system too.”

  I nodded as I got up and followed my brother to the door. “Thanks, Chris.”

  “No problem. Get some sleep,” he said, kissing my forehead before he left the apartment. “If you notice anything else, just call me. After eight, I will be at home. Call the super tonight, too. These locks need to be changed tomorrow morning. If he gives you flack, I’ll come do it.”

  “Thanks,” I said, giving my brother a hug.

  Grant

  Johnnie’s laugh was loud and clear as he finished telling us one of his usual jokes. His laugh was the last thing I remembered when the explosion sounded. We’d driven off the road and over a land mine, sending us and the MRAP flying. I braced myself, but not good enough. I felt every roll. I could hear the other guys screaming for help, and when the vehicle finally stopped rolling, that was when I felt the searing pain

  I was just about to call out when I bolted up. I glanced around the room. It took me a minute to slow my breathing and realize I was in my bed, the early-morning light of the day was just peeking through the blinds. I ran my hands over my face. I was covered in sweat and my head ached. I reached for the bottle of prescription medication, but the pain that shot down my armed stopped me. I persisted and grabbed the little bottle I had picked up from the pharmacy the day before. I quickly popped two pills and took a drink of the water that sat on my bedside table before lying back down. At first, I stared at the ceiling, and then I closed my eyes and steadied my breathing the way they had taught me to do in therapy upon realizing it had just been a bad dream.

  I’d had many bad dreams over the past year. You would, too, if your MRAP hit an IED and sent you and your team flying. We lost three of our guys that day; the others had minor injuries and recovered in a field hospital. I had been airlifted to Germany where I found I had undergone surgery to fix the broken leg I had received when I had gotten pinned in the MRAP. Figuring that was the worst of my injuries, I knew I would recover, and with a little therapy, I would be back in the field, until the doctor who was caring for me came in and I tried to sit up.

  Searing pain in my neck, back, and shoulder stopped me quickly. He explained to me that there were bone and shrapnel fragments that were inoperable because of their placement. Ten very long minutes later, I’d learned that my recovery was going to be hell, but I was still ready to fight and get back to what I loved doing. Then he pulled out my x-rays and crushed all dreams I held of getting back to normal. He told me I would be discharged from the career I loved. All because of some tiny pieces of shrapnel near my spine.

  At first, I’d been angry, but after nine months of intense physical and mental therapy, I was discharged from the hospital. My best friend, Chris, visited many times during my time in the hospital. When it had come time to leave, he picked me up, and together we returned to our hometown of Merlot, CA.

  I struggled for a bit, trying to adjust to my new life with little to no idea of what I was going to do for work. One night, I’d been over at Chris’s house when he suggested I open up a security company. At first, I thought it was a bad idea, but after a few months, I put the plan into motion and finally opened the doors. The security company idea had been one of Chris’s better ideas. It had taken off, and soon I had more work than my crew could handle.

  I’d just finished handing out all the work assignments for the day and gathered the remaining work orders that probably wouldn’t get done until tomorrow. I had finally poured myself my first cup of coffee of the day and had just sat down behind my desk when I heard the bell out front, signaling that someone had come in. I really needed to give Gale more shifts, I thought to myself as I struggled to get up. My leg was still weak, although I worked out every day to build the strength back up.

  I rounded the corner and saw Chris walking towards me.

  “Hey, man, how the hell are you doing?” he greeted me, holding his hand out for one of our bro shakes.

  “Good, man. How about you? Things going well?”

  “Not too bad. Work’s been insane. I just got off shift and thought I’d come and see you. Check out the new place now that you’ve settled in,” he said, looking around. The entire shop still wasn’t completely finished, but it was almost done.

  “Well, this is it,” I said, holding my arms open. The construction guys will be back to finish everything next week,” I said limping, out the door to take Chris on a tour of the place.

  He was quiet as he followed me into the back area where we stored our equipment. “How’s the leg and back?” he questioned.

  “Better, thanks.” I wasn’t one to complain—never had been. Life had just handed me yet another hurdle to jump over. Instead of feeling sorry for myself, which I had done plenty of when I had been in the hospital, I now looked at it as a gift.

  “Good to hear, and you’re going to be just fine. I’ve been passing out your name.”

  “Thanks, man. I appreciate it. So, what’s up? What brings you all the way over to the other side of town?”

  Chris sat down on a wooden box and crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s Becca.”

  “Ah Becs. I haven’t seen her since my coming home party. How’s she doing?”

  “Good, but I’m concerned. She called me over to her place last night. She’s in danger. I’m feeling a little uneasy about her being on her own.”

  “Why? What’s going on?”

  “She apparently got herself mixed up with this guy. They had a falling out, and he put his fist through her kitchen wall. She apparently got out of the shower last night and found some writing on her mirror. There was no one in her apartment, but she claims that things are being moved around her office, and she feels like she might be being followed.”

  “Why don’t you just pull him aside and deal with him?”

  “That’s the thing. We haven’t met him.”

  I felt the sudden urge to want to protect Becca. She had always been rather special to me. She’d written to me while I had been on tour—a secret that we kept just between us. Her letters had kept me company on all the cold and lonely nights away from home, and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t started having feelings for her. After the injury, I fought to be myself. Even when I was in the hospital, she had religiously written to me. It was always the days I felt like giving up the most when her letters would arrive.

  “What do you need from me?”

  “Well, for starters, an alarm system, and anything else you might have ideas on to keep her safe.”

  He didn’t need to say any more. I would do whatever it took to protect her. “No problem. You know I’ll get you whatever you need. How about we go over and look at her place?”

  “Sure thing. The other thing: I have to go out of town for a couple weeks on a work thing.”

  “Say no more. She can call on me.”

  “That’s not what I was thinking,” Chris said, looking at me.

  “Of course, your work guys can handle it better,” I said, going back to looking for a complete system to set up in her house.

  “I was hoping you might stay with her while I’m gone?”

  I dropped what I’d been holding and swallowed hard at his words. “Sure, I guess I could stay at her place. Or
her at mine if it makes you feel any better.”

  “Really?”

  “Yep, not a problem. We will look at her apartment first though.”

  “Okay. I’m gonna run home and get some rest and I’ll drop by at the end of the workday.”

  “Sounds good. That will give me time to put some stuff together as well. See you around five?”

  “I’ll be here.”

  Chris walked out of the building, leaving me once again in the quiet. I sat down behind my desk and took a sip of my now lukewarm coffee. I had no idea what I had gotten myself into. Why had I agreed to stay with her. The longer I sat there thinking about staying with her the more I worried she would find out how I truly felt.

  I shook those thoughts from my head. I wasn’t there to fall in love with her or to make her fall in love with me. I was there to protect her, to do a job. I drank down the remains of my coffee and went to work figuring out what system would be best to take to Becca’s.

  Becca

  “I still don’t understand why you didn’t call the landlord to change your locks. That is why you pay rent, Becca,” Dad said as he stood up and turned the deadbolt a few times to make sure it was working perfectly.

  “I just figured you could get it done sooner. Besides, the landlord takes forever to get things done, Dad. It took him over a month to come and clear a clogged drain, and to be honest, if it hadn’t of backed up, it probably would still not be fixed,” I said, leaning in and kissing him on the cheek. “Could you also put this on?” I said, handing Dad the little swing bar door lock I had purchased.

  “Becca, I just installed a deadbolt. You really think you need this as well?” Dad took that package and flipped it over a couple of times in his hands.

  “Dad, please, the apartment down the hall had a break-in two nights ago. Yes, it’s necessary,” I lied.

  I hadn’t told Dad the real reason I wanted the locks changed, and I hoped that Chris hadn’t mentioned anything to him either. I didn’t want him to worry about me. I smiled as I watched Dad crack the package open. Within five minutes, he had the additional lock on the door. He had just shut and tested the locks again when we heard voices in the hall, followed by a loud knock.

  Dad pulled the door open and was greeted by Chris. “Dad, what are you doing here?” Chris asked with surprise in his voice.

  “Becca’s neighbor had a break-in. She wanted a new lock. Honestly, I think it’s overkill, but whatever.”

  Chris glanced over at me with a knowing look, and I shrugged. “You know my motto, Dad: one can never be too safe.” I sang, trying to keep Dad’s attention focused off of Chris.

  Chris let out a laugh at my response, yet I smiled at my brother, thankful that he hadn’t come out and told Dad the real reason for all of this.

  “Shit, kids, I’ve got to run,” Dad said, dropping a screwdriver into his tool bag. “I’m late for a meeting with the crown. Call me later,” Dad said, kissing my cheek, and then shook hands with Chris before taking off in the direction of the elevator.

  “I’m glad to see you at least took my advice,” Chris said as he checked out the work Dad had just completed.

  “Yep, oh, and I called the phone company. They switched my phone number.”

  “Good. So they cooperated with you under the directions I gave you.”

  “Yes. There was no problem at all,” I said, bending to pick up my laundry basket off the floor. I had dropped the warm clothes there when Dad had arrived, and if I didn’t get them folded, they would wrinkle. “So what brings you over here on your day off?”

  I finished folding the T-shirt in my hand and turned to look at my brother when my apartment door swung open and Grant walked in. He carried with him a black duffel bag, which he set on the table across from me, and nodded. I looked over to my brother and frowned. “What is going on?”

  “Look, Grant is here to check things over.”

  “Hey, Becs,” Grant said as he dropped another box of stuff on the floor, along with another duffel bag. “How you doing?” he said, coming over and pulling me in for an enormous hug.

  I wrapped my arms around him, pressing my small body into his large, muscular frame, and breathing in his musky scent. He’d always smelled good, and today was no exception. I lingered in his arms a little longer than I probably should have, and when I noticed Chris staring, I finally pulled away.

  “I’m okay. You don’t need to do anything though. My brother is probably overreacting. Besides, Dad changed the locks, and I have a new number,” I blurted, throwing down the T-shirt I’d folded to hide my undergarments that were sitting on the top of the basket. I eyed the box and duffel bags that sat on the floor as Grant wandered over to the sliding glass doors and fiddled with the lock.

  “Becca, I want to talk to you.” Chris sat down on my couch and signaled for me to sit down.

  “What is it?” I said, sitting across from him, worried that he may have found something out.

  “Grant is going to stay with you while I’m out of town, Becca.”

  My eyes flew to my brother and then over to the six-foot-two hunk of muscle that stood in my living room.

  “Um, no, I’m fine, Chris. Really.”

  “You’re fine? Really, Becs? What if this guy had gotten a copy of your key and when you were at work, he came in and installed cameras and listening devices throughout this apartment?” Grant murmured while still fiddling with the lock on the door. “You still fine?” he asked, looking to me.

  It took me by surprise that Grant had spoken up. In all the time I had known him, he rarely interrupted when Chris and I were talking.

  “Well...um... you don’t think he did that, do you?” I asked, glancing around my apartment, meeting Grants slate-grey eyes.

  “Never know. I’ve seen it done,” Chris said, getting up and grabbing an apple from the bowl on the counter.

  I took a deep breath and looked around the room. I swallowed hard. “Would you two stop trying to scare me.”

  “He’s not trying to scare you. That is why I am going to stay here until we get your stalker.”

  I glanced over to Chris, who kept nodding while he bit into the apple. Then I looked over to Grant, who stood staring at me. I already knew I didn’t stand a chance in trying to talk either of them out of this. Even if I could, I wouldn’t even know where to begin to try.

  “All right, I’ve got to get home and get packed up for this trip,” my brother said, taking the last bite of his apple and turning to give me a hug.

  “Be safe,” I whispered.

  “You’ll be fine. I feel better knowing Grant is here. You should too,” he whispered in my ear before letting me go. “Anyway, man, I’m outta here.” Chris held out his hand and Grant shook it.

  “No worries. I’ll look after her,” Grant said, shaking my brothers hand before turning his attention back to the lock.

  Once I’d returned from walking Chris to the door and saying good-bye, I walked back into my living room to find Grant fishing through one bag he had brought. Then he reached into a box and pulled out a set of cameras.

  “What are those for?” I questioned.

  “To monitor all entrances. I will have them hooked to a hard drive to tape everything, that way everything is on film. Now, are these the only two entrances into this apartment?”

  I nodded, my face heating. There was no way he was putting one of those in my bedroom.

  Grant looked at me. “Becca?”

  “This is it,” I said, turning away from him so he couldn’t see my flushed face, which I knew would give me away.

  “Um, I’m sure your brother told me you had another one.”

  “Of course, he did,” I whispered to myself and let out a huff. “It’s in my bedroom. Is it really necessary to put one in there?”

  I turned around and met Grant’s eyes. He looked away quickly, a slight flush to his cheeks. “No, it’s fine. I’ll put one just outside of the bedroom door.”

  “Thanks.”

&n
bsp; I went back to folding the rest of the clothes in the basket as Grant made himself busy installing the first two cameras in the pathways of the doors. When I finished, I carried the basket down the hall and began putting my clothes away in my dresser. The nervousness I felt being around Grant alone was almost unbearable. I blew out a breath and did my best to calm my nerves. I had finally stopped shaking as I moved to the next drawer when Grant came into the bedroom.

  “This the only other door?” he asked, again examining the lock on the sliding door?

  “Yep.”

  It felt awkward having him in the bedroom where I slept, where I’d dreamt of him not that long ago. I had dreamed of him being in here, but not to check the locks on the sliding doors. I glanced over at him out of the corner of my eye and watched him. For whatever reason, he had never seemed interested in me, though, and always kept things on the friends level.

  “Why don’t you tell me about this guy?”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Everything. Where you met, how long you’ve known him, how long you’ve dated him, where he lives, have you been intimate, everything,” Grant said, shrugging, while looking around for the perfect spot to place the last camera.

  “His name is Jace. We met at The Wine Cellar. I was there for a work event, and after everyone left, I stayed behind for a while to unwind. I sat at the bar where he was bartending. He’s only been working there about six months. Anyway, we talked that night, and before I left, we had exchanged numbers. About a week later, he texted me and asked me on a date. That was about seven months ago.”

  “He lives here in Merlot?”

  I nodded. “Yes, over off Champagne trail, number 742 Apt 4A.”

  “It’s not the best area, Becs.”

  “I know. I don’t ever go there. He always comes here.”

  “That’s a good thing. Chris said he put his fist through a wall.”