by Kayla Myles
My second-in-command, Martins, dropped by my right, fixing his helmet.
“Thanks for the heads up back there,” I said, and he nodded while he checked his weapon.
“I didn’t think it was going to get this crazy so soon,” Martin said lightly. I said nothing, opting to narrow my eyes and try to see through the sandstorm, picking off potential locations for where the other terrorists might be hiding.
“Captain,” he called again, and I turned toward him. My eyes widened to see his eyes dripping with tears of blood, his uniform splattered with red as he coughed up blood, looking at me with shock and rage.
I jolted awake from my dream and got up from bed, the covers falling down my lap and the cool air hitting my bare chest. I buried my face in my hand as I breathed heavily, my body still trying to get its grips back on reality. It was just a dream, or rather, a morbid reinterpretation of what happened back in Afghanistan. I was out of that hellhole and back in my goddamn country, for crying out loud. I thought that fact would at least put my mind at ease. Clearly, it didn’t.
I wiped the sweat off my forehead and pulled the covers off of me as I got out of bed, my eyes immediately catching the envelope lying on top of my desk. I walked over and picked it up, hating how I still couldn’t bring myself to deliver it. It was Martins’ last wish, and here I was wasting my time.
I had forgotten myself in the moment and realized I was lightly crushing the letter with my hand and I quickly tried to straighten out the creases.
I placed it back on top of my desk and checked the time. 0359. That’s too fucking early to be awake, but I doubt I’m going to be able to go back to sleep. I put on some sweatpants and decided to just kill time working out. Chase was going to pick me up again for an official meeting with my ‘bosses’ at 0800, so I might as well get the exercise out of the way.
I thought about my new job while I worked the salamander bars. I had researched about Veronica Langley on the internet as soon as I got home, and the broad was a hell of a lot prettier than Chase described her. At least he hadn’t assigned me to a spinster, or worse, a dude. Thank goodness this one was really easy on the eyes. I just hope she really was as nice as Chase said. It didn’t matter she was a solid 9, if her personality sucked, then it was going to be difficult to deal with her.
I kept up my workout for three hours and then showered. I texted Chase whether I needed to wear something formal when we met with Veronica’s manager, but he said anything was fine. I picked out some jeans, a plaid polo shirt, and a white wife beater, leaving the polo shirt unbuttoned. I went to the fridge and took out eggs and bacon and prepared breakfast.
My door rang as I was loading up the dishes in the washer and wiped my hands on the rag hanging from the fridge. Seeing it was Chase, I looked around my apartment to see if there was anything I forgot to bring, and then I took my keys from the counter and opened the door.
Chase whistled low as he walked inside, looking around my place. I scratched the back of my neck as he continued his inspection, a little uncomfortable. I never invited guests inside my apartment before, so this is the first time anybody else saw it. Two of my walls were decorated with bricks from top to bottom, and the other two were cream-colored and bare. I had a master bedroom that connected to the living room and a small kitchen on the other side with a small circular dining table to the side.
“Sweet place you got here, Keyes,” Chase complimented, still looking around. I cleared my throat.
“Uh, thanks. Now, don’t we have to go somewhere right about now?” I reminded him and he jumped a bit as he remembered. I held the door open as he walked back out and I followed, locking the door behind me.
“So, other than introducing me to this Henry Stevenson guy, what else are we going to talk about?” I asked, hanging my arm out of the windshield as I kept my eyes on the road.
“Well, we will be discussing what your scope of duties actually entails, what your schedule is going to be, days off, that sort of thing,” he said, and I nodded.
“Am I also going to be able to talk to my subject this time?” I asked, and he shrugged.
“I don’t know, he didn’t say. I guess we’ll have to see once we get there,” he replied.
I asked Chase where we were meeting him and he said just a diner nearby, as Henry needed to go sort out another matter regarding one of the actors he was also handling besides Veronica. He drove for about ten minutes before pulling over by the curb. I looked up at the sign that said “Chuck’s” and I went inside.
The place looked like your typical diners around America, with the red hotdog booths and circular spinning chairs over by the counter. There was even a classic jukebox standing beside the counter, blasting some good old Elvis music. I saw a fat man with a mustache start waving in our direction, and Chase waved back at him in acknowledgement before nodding at me to follow him.
I spotted a dark-haired person sitting adjacent to the mustached man I assumed was Henry, and my heart skipped a beat all of a sudden, thinking it was Veronica. Chase went ahead and shook Henry’s hand before the latter held out his hand for me, shaking it in turn.
“Hello, you must be Jason Keyes. It’s nice to finally meet you,” Henry said, grinning. I smiled and nodded before turning to see his companion, who turned out not to be Veronica.
The woman was probably Latina or of South American descent, judging by her honey-colored skin. Her wavy black hair was tied in a loose braid hanging down one shoulder and she stood up and shook my hand.
“Chase, Jason, this is Sasha Klein, Veronica’s manager,” Henry introduced.
“Pleasure to meet you both,” she said politely, asking Henry to scoot over so she could sit on his side of the booth, facing us. She pulled out a couple of documents and handed them over before launching into an explanation stating it was my contract, and that I should read it over carefully and discuss anything that might need change or further clarified on.
Chase and I reviewed the contracts and discussed Veronica’s schedule and what my living arrangements are. Apparently, I was supposed to stay at Veronica’s house for most days, though I had a day off in which I could unwind and go about my usual routine. They also gave me an allowance so I could buy a suit or two for formal gatherings whenever Veronica had to attend a gala or an awards ceremony needing formal attires. But on a regular day, I could just wear my casual stuff.
“Why isn’t Veronica here?” I asked, and both Sasha and Henry sighed.
“About that,” Sasha said, glancing at Henry before looking back at me. “Veronica’s not exactly thrilled by the idea of having a personal protector,” she said, and I furrowed my eyebrows.
“So you mean she’s not going to be welcoming when I pop into her place,” I said, and she looked at me apologetically.
“We’ve talked to her about it and she knows you will be coming—oh no!” she cried all of a sudden and all three of us looked at her in concern. She grimaced. “I forgot to tell her you would be starting today!” she said.
“I haven’t even packed my stuff yet,” I said. “Are you sure I should be surprising her right now?” I asked, and Henry waved his hand dismissively.
“Nonsense. I’m sure everything will be fine,” Henry said, but I wasn’t convinced. He looked at his watch and started to fix his bag. “I’m terribly sorry to leave you all, but I have another meeting to attend to,” he said. “Sasha, please help Jason and take him to Veronica’s place. Jason, if you need any assistance, Sasha would be glad to help you. It was nice meeting you all again,” he greeted, placing his hat on his head and tipping it to us before walking out of the diner. Sasha stood up next and smiled at us.
“Well, gentlemen. It’s getting late. Shall we go?”
Chapter 6
Veronica
“Now do you see where I’m getting at?” I whined, hugging one of Leila’s pillows against my chest as I watched her go back and forth between her mirror and her closet, trying out the new outfits I scored from my sponsors. I
saw her roll her eyes through her reflection before she turned around and looked at me.
“Actually, no, Ronnie. I don’t see,” she said, and my mouth fell open, aghast.
“How could you even say that?!” I cried. She was my best friend! Shouldn’t she be supporting me on this?
“Ronnie, you almost got kidnapped last time. Who’s to say it’s not going to happen again? Or worse! What if someone tried to kill you?” she asked, and she placed her hands on her hips and tilted her head, the stance she usually took when she was about to give me one of her ‘You’re being stupid, Ronnie, and I’ll tell you why’ lectures she does.
“If I were you, I’d welcome the idea that a big strong guy was going to protect me from harm. It sure would help me feel much better to know that my best friend, who’s work forces her to travel to different countries and show herself to the general public, was safe and sound. It would totally put my heart at ease,” she said.
I pouted and looked down, punching at the pillow as I grumbled about my lack of privacy. I heard her sigh once more and I felt the mattress dip as she sat down, tapping me on my knee with her finger to make me look at her.
“I know it’s going to suck having this shadow looming over you now, but you have to see this as just another part of the job. This was your dream, and sadly, the thing you love most doing requires a lot of sacrifices, which unfortunately includes your privacy,” she said sadly, trying to reassure me. “It’s not going to be the end of the world if you have a bodyguard. And who knows? You might not even notice he’s there! So cheer up, okay?” she said.
I gave her a small smile and nodded, even though deep inside, I still wasn’t okay with it.
“Besides,” Leila said, getting up and picking another dress from the batch. “Your bodyguard is pretty hot,” she added, and I looked at her in annoyance.
“Is that really all you care about?” I asked, shaking my head. “I swear to God, Sasha told me the same thing! Like that would satisfy me or something. I mean, was I supposed to be overjoyed by that fact?” I asked rhetorically, but Leila opened her mouth and answered.
“Actually, you should. It’s better to have a hot as hell bodyguard than an ugly one,” she said, sounding matter of fact. I rolled my eyes at her.
“Leila, please,” I said, exasperated.
“What? Don’t tell me you haven’t seen ‘The Bodyguard’! Kevin Costner was such a DILF. And your bodyguard is ten times more attractive than him,” she moaned and stomped her foot, looking at me with a grimace. “Man, I wish I had him as my guardian,” she grumbled.
“You can have him. I’m happy to oblige,” I said, smiling at her sweetly. She rolled her eyes and shook her head.
“I know what you’re doing, but you’re not getting out of that one. I can just stop and stare at your bodyguard from afar,” she said. “Please buy me some binoculars next time,” she added, as I threw the pillow at her.
I didn’t want to grumble about my predicament anymore and told Leila I wanted to have some fun and have a few drinks, two things she happily obliged me with.
We got into some sexy outfits and went to this really hip club at NoHo called ‘7 Sins’. The queue was really long and would probably take a long time before we got in, that is, if I wasn’t considered important enough to get special treatment. I skipped over the line and walked straight toward the bouncer blocking the entrance, and as soon as he saw me come near, he lifted the fluffy barrier and let Leila and I through, the people waiting in line booing in protest.
I usually didn’t use my status as a celebrity like this, because on the rare occasions I do, I feel guilty about using it to gain favors.
Tonight was a different story, though.
Right now, I couldn’t find it in myself to care. I had stomped on the tiny twinge of guilt and to give myself some self-love. I thought I deserve that for putting up with these ridiculous shenanigans over the past couple of months, all thanks to that crazy stalker I had.
I had a pretty great time dancing with Leila, the beat of the music filling my senses and the alcohol drowning my problems away. I told Leila it was my plan to get absolutely hammered tonight, and although she tutted at me and said she didn’t approve of it, she promised she’ll stay sober enough to help me get home. I protested and asked if I could stay at her place and she shrugged, saying that would be easier.
I didn’t need to worry about ruining my public image here at 7 Sins because they had policies protecting other celebs while we were within their premises. That was why I always chose this club whenever I needed to unwind a little. I could drink without a care in the world and I needn’t worry about tomorrow’s headlines.
Here, it was safe for me to just…let loose.
Chapter 7
Jason
“So, Jason, do you have everything you need?” Sasha asked as we drove to Veronica’s place.
“Yeah, I got everything,” I answered, and she raised her eyebrows in amazement.
“Wow. Considering how small that bag is, I find that pretty impressive,” she said, eyes still on the road. I chuckled a little.
“No, it’s really not what you think. I just figured she lives nearby so I could easily make the trip home if I forgot something. I like packing light,” I told her, and she nodded in understanding.
“Still, that’s kind of impressive,” she said, taking a second to look at me before focusing once more on the road. “We women find it hard to just pack one bag filled with all of our necessities.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just nodded.
“So, how much do you know about Veronica?” she asked, and I shrugged.
“Very little, I have to admit. I’m not much of a movies kind of guy,” I confessed. Except for Marvel movies though, but she didn’t need to know that.
“Oh, well then, a little background on our darling girl,” Sasha said, her eyes starting to lighten up. “She was born and raised in Tucson, Arizona. Her parents are still alive and she has a younger brother named Ethan,” she prattled. “Her parents ran a farm there and after high school, her parents, especially her father, wanted her to take Business, so she would be able to help her brother run the store once he’s come of age, but Veronica has always had a passion for the arts.”
“She wanted to become an actress, be it on stage or the big screen, as long as she got to perform. And she was a natural at it. So, when she got into UCLA, she didn’t follow her father’s wishes, and instead of taking Business, she took Performing Arts,” Sasha continued. Her eyes grew downcast and I frowned, furrowing my eyebrows at her reaction.
“What happened when they found out?” I asked, although judging from the look in her eyes, I could tell it was anything but good. She sighed and looked far off, like she was remembering the past.
“They were furious, of course. They thought her love for acting was just a phase she’d grow out of eventually, and it disappointed them. They told her she was never going to make a career out of it, and that the chances of her becoming famous was a million to one, but she vowed she was going to beat those odds.”
And obviously, she did. She had proven her family wrong.
“It was a hard road, of course. Her parents completely cut off their support so she worked three jobs to pay for her miscellaneous fees and other stuff she needed. She kept her grades up to be eligible for a scholarship and saved up whatever penny she could for a rainy day. She went out to a hundred auditions and mostly got rejected, until she was discovered by Henry and she got the gig as one of the supporting characters in a hit drama series. And everything else was history,” Sasha finished, her face splitting into a huge smile that was overflowing with pride.
I smiled to myself as I thought about how lucky it was for Veronica to be surrounded by such good people who genuinely cared about her. It was obvious by the way Sasha spoke about her story, and how Henry put a great deal of thought into her safety, that they treated her not as a client, but as a friend and family. Not quite a re
placement for her own, but it was good enough.
“Has she…,” I started to ask, but I pursed my lips, stopping myself from asking. It really wasn’t any of my business, and it wasn’t going to help me out with my work, anyway. So why did it matter?
Sasha’s brows wrinkled as she waited for me to ask the question.
“Go on. What is it?” she said, and I let out a small sigh.
“Has she…,” I gulped. “Has she been in contact with her parents since then?” I finished, and Sasha shook her head sadly.
“No, I don’t think so. Not that she hasn’t had plenty of chances to do so, but...,” she sighed. “I guess she has her own reasons for not trying to contact them. I mean, I wouldn’t have been surprised if she decided to gloat about it, tell them they were wrong. But she’s done none of those things. She’s just quiet.”
That’s kind of sad, actually. I wouldn’t know what I would’ve done in her situation, but if I was lucky enough to have a family, then I would’ve tried to make contact somehow.
“Well, we’re here!” Sasha cried, parking in front of a two-story house with double-door gates and brick walls. There was a small post with some sort of camera attached on top of it that swirled towards the driver’s side once Sasha pulled over in front of the gates. Sasha waved at the lens and a few seconds later, the gates swung open, making me whistle at the fully-automated functionality.