by Stormy Glenn
"So, tell me about this assignment."
"This is strictly off the books." Gareth gave him a sharp look. "You understand that?"
"Yeah, sure."
Gareth's attention dropped back to the file in front of him. "An old friend of mine called. His nephew recently came into some money, and he's worried about the boy's safety. Apparently, there has been trouble with his parents in the past, and he's afraid if they learn that their son is suddenly rich, they will cause problems."
Leon couldn't prevent his eyes from rounding. "How much money are we talking here?"
Gareth glanced up. "A lot."
"And a lot means?" He wanted to know what he was working with here. Just how much protection did this guy need?
"One point six billion dollars."
Leon's jaw dropped. "Did you say billion, with a B?"
He had to be sure.
Gareth nodded. "Now you see why he needs protection."
This guy didn't need protection. He needed a whole fucking army, and he could afford one with that amount of money.
"Why give me the assignment?"
"I was asked for my best, and that's you."
"No, I mean, why isn't this guy getting an entire team of guys? Why not send everyone? Why just me?"
"Because we need this to be low key. The less people who know who you are and why you are there, the better."
Leon got a funny feeling in his gut. "And that means what?"
Gareth looked him straight in the eyes and said, "You're going in as this guy's boyfriend."
Fucker.
Gareth knew he was gay, but he'd never used it before. Why now? "Is he even gay?"
"He is now." Gareth handed over a large manila folder. "This is everything you need to know about the client. Memorize it then bring the file back to me so I can put it in the safe."
Leon glanced toward the large double doors on the far wall. They were made of ten inches of hardened steel and a biometrics security lock. Gareth kept all his important information in there, locked behind those large double doors.
Leon had never understood why Gareth didn't use a computer for that. Gareth usually went off about security and hacking and other crap. Leon tended to zone out after a while. He'd rather play with Gareth's gadgets.
Leon took the file then stood. "How soon do I need to report?"
He needed to know if he had time to run home and take a shower, and maybe get in a nap.
"Yesterday would be good."
Well, damn.
"I want a sit-rep every twelve hours. Understood?"
Leon frowned at the unexpected order. They didn't usually have to check in more than every few days depending on the assignment. "Yes, sir."
"This mission is very important, de Oro. I expect your best on it."
"Of course, sir."
Leon was a little put out that Gareth thought he might not give his best on any assignment he was sent on. He always did. Besides the fact that it paid well and he enjoyed the hell out of what he did, he owed Gareth. He would never let the man down by not giving every assignment his very best.
"I'll call just as soon as I arrive and assess the situation."
Gareth nodded. "I'll be waiting for your phone call."
Leon took the file and walked out of Gareth's office. He'd been headed home when Gareth called out to him. As much as he wanted to continue heading home, he knew he needed to read over the file the boss man had given him then give it back.
That meant coffee, and lots of it.
Leon made a beeline for the break room. He wasn't sure what they served there could be considered coffee, but it'd keep a man up even if he'd been dead for three days. He grabbed a cup of the dark liquid and doctored it with enough sugar to give himself diabetes then made his way to one of the empty tables.
He shuddered when he took his first sip. He liked coffee as much as the next guy, but this stuff could curl the hair on his lip. He knew he'd need it if he was going to be at the top of his game going into this assignment without taking rest time first.
He couldn't wait until it was over and he got an entire week off. Maybe he'd go to Aspen and do a little skiing and find himself some sexy ski bunny to spend a few days and nights with. It had been a bit since he'd been laid.
He happened to know from personal experience that the guy who rented out skiing equipment at one of the resorts up there could do things with his tongue that would make Leon's eyes roll back in his head.
He really needed some time off.
After taking another sip of coffee, Leon flipped open the file and started reading. The more he read, the more he understood why Gareth had been asked for help. George Carver might actually be the last nice guy on the surface of the planet. The second people realized he had money, he was going to be eaten alive.
The name of the town where George lived sounded familiar, but Leon couldn't place why. He did find it interesting that the man was a bear shifter, but that was going to make things a bit dicey. Leon was human down to this DNA. He didn't have a single gene strand of shifter blood in him. Not a trace.
In his experience, most shifters tended to look down on humans. He'd had to prove himself more than once over the years because of that. He'd also had to put more than one shifter in their place when they thought they could intimidate him.
He didn't get intimidated.
Ever.
Leon read through the rest of the file, made a few notes, then started working out a plan to keep George safe. Going in as the man's boyfriend would work. It would allow him to stay close to the man day and night.
George was also gorgeous, so it wouldn't be a hardship. Leon was no slouch, standing at six foot one inches tall, but George topped him by more than a few inches. He also out-weighted Leon by at least a hundred pounds.
The short brown hair and neatly trimmed beard were a nice touch, but what really made George attractive to Leon was the wire-rimmed glasses and the glint of shyness in the deep brown eyes behind them.
George Carver was a big ol' gentle bear.
Leon smiled as he finished reading the rest of the file. Shifters were notorious for being hard to work with. They had an aggressive nature, mostly due to being a shifter. George didn't look as if he had an aggressive bone in his body.
He had no history of aggression that Leon could see, either in the human world or the shifter world. There had been no complaints lodged against him except for a few filed by George Carver Sr. and his wife, Rose.
Leon knew there was a story there simply because Gareth had told him the parents were trouble. Failure to do his duty to his parents just didn't seem like a good enough reason to file a complaint with the shifter council.
But what did he know? He wasn't a shifter, and he never would be. Unlike the Hollywood movies, you could not become a shifter through a bite or serum or ritual or whatever. You were either born one or you weren't, and he wasn't.
Leon groaned as another thought hit him. He grabbed the file and headed back to Gareth's office, knocking on the door once he reached it.
"Come."
Leon opened the door, stepped inside the office, then closed the door behind him. "I have a question," Leon said as he laid the file down on Gareth's desk. "What kind of crap am I going to get from the alpha of Carver's clan?"
He really didn't want to have to deal with all the posturing and politics that went into dealing with a clan alpha. They usually liked to beat their chests and hear themselves talk more than be diplomatic.
"He doesn't belong to a clan."
That hadn't been in the file.
"How can he not belong to a clan? I thought all shifters had to belong to a clan."
Gareth shook his head. "No, most of them tend to join clans because there is safety in numbers, but they are not required to. In George Carver's case, he lives in Alpha Henry Barker's territory, but he doesn't belong to the clan."
"How is that possible?" Alphas were notoriously territorial. They tended to attack
first and ask questions later if someone not affiliated with their clan entered their territory.
"When George got kicked out of his clan, he went to his uncle, who belongs to Barker's clan. His uncle got special permission from their council for George to be there, but Barker refused to allow George join his clan."
Leon felt a prickling of unease climb up his spine. "Why?"
"He doesn't want to be challenged by George."
Leon's eyebrows lifted. "He's afraid George will challenge him?"
Had he met the guy?
"George tends to intimidate those around him," Gareth explained. "He left his birth clan because the alpha there was afraid he'd be challenged by George, the same reason he's not allowed to join Henry's clan."
"Huh." Leon pictured the photograph of George in his mind. "I don't see it."
"You don't see it?"
"No."
"He's a six-foot-ten-inch-tall bear shifter. How do you not see it?"
Leon shrugged. He couldn't explain it, but he just didn't see George challenging anyone to anything. That shy glint in his eyes didn't lend itself to someone who was aggressive.
"Well, whether you see it or not, be careful. Shifters can be a testy lot."
Gareth should know. He was a shifter.
"You got it, Boss."
Leon saluted then turned and walked out of the office. He did have to stop by his apartment and grab a duffel bag of clean clothes, and it really wouldn't hurt to take a shower. He had been out on an assignment. While the dingy apartment he'd been staying in did have a shower, he wouldn't have bathed in it on a bet. He needed to get some of the dinge off his body.
He'd still have plenty of time to get to George Carver's place, even if he was supposed to be there yesterday.
Chapter Three
George tried not to pay attention to the fact that his hands were shaking as he rinsed his coffee cup. That would mean acknowledging just how nervous he was at the moment. Nervous. Anxious. Coming apart at the seams.
He was a mess, and he knew exactly why. Today, he had talked with a lawyer about his lottery winnings and set up some sort of trust for the money to go into. Tomorrow, he was supposed to go claim said lottery winnings. All one point six billion dollars’ worth.
As much as he liked the idea of having a crap-ton of money to realize every dream he'd ever had—not to mention some he hadn't had yet—he was really starting to wonder if it was worth the anxiousness. His stomach had been in knots since he realized he had the winning numbers.
Granted, he had spent a fair amount of time thinking about what he'd like to do with the money and he'd come up with several ideas. Number one on that list was to do something special for his uncle, aunt, and cousin. They had been kind and accepting of him when no one else had.
From the moment they learned George's parents had kicked him out of the house because he refused to challenge their alpha for the clan and his alpha had banned him from the clan because he was afraid George would, Allan and Helen had taken him in and made him a part of their family, no questions asked.
That deserved something really special in George's book. He just had to figure out what that something special was. He had to wonder why it wasn't easy for him considering he could practically buy anything they could ever want or dream of.
That almost made it harder. Aunt Helen would be happier with a homemade card and a flower in a pot than the most expensive long-stemmed red roses. Uncle Allan was pretty much the same way. He was happy sitting back after dinner with his feet propped up, watching his favorite sitcom while drinking a beer.
They didn't need fancy or expensive things. They were pretty simple people. According to them, their wealth was in their family and friends.
George liked that, except that he didn't have any family beyond them and barely any friends. That made him pretty poor according to that theory. And George was pretty sure any friends he made after people learned he had oodles of money weren't the kind he'd want.
George jumped when his front door crashed open. For a moment, he forgot to breathe, and then he heard Ford.
"Hey, cuz, where are you?"
George gripped the edge of the counter and drew in a shaky breath. He adored his cousin. Ford wasn't just his cousin. He was George's best friend, but if he didn't learn to knock, George was going to sit on him after shifting. He'd squish him like a bug.
"George?"
George huffed before answering. "I'm in the kitchen, Ford."
Ford appeared around the corner a moment later. "Hey."
"You need to learn to knock."
Ford snickered.
"Seriously, Ford. You're going to give me a heart attack one of these days." Ford was always crashing into the apartment without knocking first. "Your mother would beat you with a wooden spoon if she caught you doing shit like that."
"Which is why I knock before entering when I'm at home."
Yeah, he wasn't stupid…most of the time.
George crossed his arms and leaned back against the counter as he watched Ford open the fridge and root around inside. "Why are you here?"
"What?" Ford grabbed a soda then closed the door. "I have to have a reason to come visit my favorite cousin?"
"I'm your only cousin."
Ford shrugged. "I just wanted to check in on you, see how you were doing."
George signed. "I'm okay."
"Come on, George, this is me. Tell me the truth."
That was one of the bad things about having your cousin be your best friend. He knew George just a little too well, and had since birth. George had never been able to get anything past his cousin.
"My gut is one big knot."
"Yeah." Ford nodded as he popped the tab on his soda. "I figured it would be."
George groaned as he tilted his head back and stared up at the ceiling. "What am I going to do with a billion dollars, Ford?"
"One point six billion dollars."
"You heard your dad. I only get the full amount if I take it in installment payments over twenty years. I get nine hundred and thirty million if I take it in one lump sum."
"Nine hundred and thirty million is still a lot of money, George."
George's eyes rounded. "Yeah."
"Well, what do you want to do with it?"
"I don't know. That's the problem." George pushed a hand through his hair, brushing the edges back from his face. "I know I want to do something for your folks. I just haven't figured out what yet."
"Send them on a cruise with Uncle Robert and Aunt Maggie."
Robert and Maggie Colton weren't really related, but Helen and Maggie had been best friends since grade school, so they might as well be. Since George was related through Uncle Allan, who was his father's brother, he'd always felt a little weird around Robert and Maggie and their kids, no matter how nice they had all been.
"A cruise?" That didn't seem like a good enough thank-you for all they had done for him.
Ford nodded. "There's this cruise that goes up to Alaska that Mom's always dreamed of. It stops off in different places where they can get the fur on and run free without worrying they might freak someone out."
"Okay, I can do that, but I was thinking of something more substantial, like paying off their mortgage and putting some money aside so they'd never have to work again."
Ford shook his head. "They'd never go for it."
George's shoulder slumped. "I was afraid you'd say that."
"You know Mom and Dad. They have a lot of pride, and they won't accept anything like that that they didn't earn themselves."
George blew out a breath. "Yeah, I know."
"I wouldn't turn down a nineteen sixty-seven teardrop Corvette."
George chuckled. "What color?"
Ford snorted. "Black, of course. Is there any other color for a classic Corvette?"
George wouldn't have a clue. He didn't own a car.
"I was thinking of setting up some shelters for shifters who'd been kicked out of their homes."
"Like you were?"
"Yeah, although, I don't imagine there are a lot of shifters out there who were kicked out of their homes because they wouldn't challenge their alphas. I've done some research, and most of them get kicked out because they won't conform to their alpha's wishes."
"You mean gay shifters."
George nodded. He'd actually been shocked at how many stories he'd read about young shifters being banned from their clans because they were gay. That had never seemed to be a problem in the clan he'd been born into. No, his problem had been that he grew too big, and maybe a bit too scary.
Even now, just walking down the street, more than one child looked at him with shock and a little bit of fear. Mothers crossed the road with their kids as if afraid he'd eat them or something.
And then there were the ass wipes who tried to pick fights with him to prove they were men, which was pretty much macho bullshit as far as George was concerned. How picking a fight with someone proved one's manhood, he'd never know.
His biggest problem was Raymond Barker, the alpha's son. The man was a prick plain and simple. He used his status as next in line to be alpha to terrorize pretty much everyone, including George, and his father was oblivious.
George couldn't do anything about the genetics he was born with. He was who he was. But maybe he could help out others who were in the same boat, unable to change who they were. He'd certainly have the money for it…just as soon as he claimed it.
"The lawyer your dad sent me to said there was some sort of trust thing I could set up so I wouldn't have to go public with my name."
"You know that won't last, right? Considering the size of the pot and the feeding frenzy the media is in right now to discover who won, someone will leak your name at some point."
George shuddered at the very idea. He'd seen the rabid sharks on the nightly news, questioning who had won the entire one point six billion dollars. It was scary. "I know, but maybe it will give me the time I need to get all my ducks in a row."
"You need security." Ford's eyes widened comically. "Lots of security."
"Uncle Allan said he had a friend from his days in the service that he could call, someone who knows about that type of thing."