by Jack Ellison
“Awww. Little Chloe wants him all to herself!” teased Jessica. “That’s OK though, she can have him first. From the sounds of it there’s plenty of him to go round.”
I could almost hear her winking at Amber.
I decided to change the course of the discussion from what would probably be a recurring subject over the course of the next few days, at least. That was, until they lost interest in him or until one of them managed to get him into bed. And Axel didn’t strike me as the type to risk his job for the sake of a quickie with a young slut. He’d probably be too busy looking mean and scaring the shit out of people, anyway.
“Right so are you two all set? The flight is in two days, we’re flying at 7 so get to my place at 4. If you’re late I’ll get my bodyguard to rough you up. And I don't mean the good kind either!” This got another burst of laughter from the two on the other end of the phone.
“Ok, we’ll be there!” they chimed in unison. They were so alike that people quite often mistook them for sisters. They might as well have been, the amount of time they spent together. They practically lived in Jessica’s house.
“How about me and Cind come over to celebrate? I bet your Dad’s got some nice champagne on ice he won’t miss?” Amber chimed in an instant later, laughing; “Great idea Jess! We’ll be over in an hour.”
“Ok, ok. Come over then. It doesn’t sound like there’s any way I’m gonna talk you out of it. Oh, and I’ve already cracked open the bubbles, so you’d better get over here quick before I finish it all.”
They screamed in mock panic and hung up. I couldn’t help but smile at their antics. They were a pair of pretentious bitches, but they were good fun and actually quite nice to be around when they weren’t trying to egg each other on or wind someone up.
I lay back and took another sip of champagne.
Yup, I think this trip is gonna be a whole lot of fun. I’d Better get ready then if they’re coming over.
I stood, pausing to grab my glass before heading towards the shower.
Axel
I sat in my apartment, deep in thought. I’d managed to prepare everything for the impending trip, but still had niggling doubts gnawing at the back of my mind.
It’s normal. Stop fucking worrying about pointless shit and get on with it.
Thing was, if I had doubts they were usually about something specific. This time I just had a bad feeling I couldn't place.
I fucking hate bad feelings. Gives me indigestion.
I’d also watched Chloe’s house the last few nights, making sure there wasn’t anyone else eyeing the place up for a late night visit. There were a few things I’d learnt I was damn good at when working as a gun for hire. I was patient. You had to be when you were waiting for someone paranoid to show themselves or make a mistake. I was also quiet and quick for a big man, and surprisingly good at not being noticed. I seemed to blend into the background, my nonchalant demeanour disarming all but the most intense scrutiny.
I was also good at noticing things, I’d learned to go into an almost meditative state where I wasn’t distracted by conscious thought and could keep an eye on the telltale details that painted a much clearer picture of the world compared to the casual or distracted viewer. All the while maintaining a blank expression, looking more like an idiot than a threat.
Even so, I hadn’t noticed anything at all. No cars, parked suspiciously or driving past more than once. No lone figures walking past the fence or gate. No sign at all of any attempted entry.
Not a fucking peep.
I checked my gear for the trip, for what was probably the fourth double check.
My guess is they know where she lives, so why do they need to keep an eye on it? They’ve probably already worked out she’s booked on a flight anyway - they probably know what fucking seat she’s in and what she’s ordered for dinner.
I just hoped that the seat booked for Axel Miller in Business Class had passed under the radar. I’d spoken to her dad the day before, as we discussed a few final details; location, transport. Risks. We’d agreed it would be good for me to try and avoid suspicion by sitting in Business class. Firstly, if anyone had access to the flight records, first place they’d look is the seats around Chloe. Secondly, people who could afford First Class wouldn’t be looking to extort money out of their wealthy co-passengers. Finally, I’d be at the front of Business and only a quick run from where they’d be sitting.
I was distracted from mindlessly re-checking my gear by my cell phone ringing loudly in my pocket. I guessed it was probably Chloe. Couldn’t remember anyone else having the new number.
“Hey, Miss,” I said, putting the cheap and small cell phone to my ear. I held it gingerly with my thumb and forefinger. Big hands weren’t useful for most practical things, I’d learned over the years. Good for fighting, though. And women seemed to like them...
“Hey there, mister,” she said, her voice low and dripping honey. “I’m all ready for you. Or I should say, WE are all ready for you.”
She giggled, and I heard her giggles echoed by what sounded like two other girls in the background. I thought they all sounded a little tipsy.
“Good stuff, doll. Just tell me when and I’ll be there. Oh, and you’ll like the transport, for sure. Something me and your Dad got, special like.”
“Ooh, I can’t wait!” she squealed, a little too eagerly.
Sounds like she’s been at her Dad’s whiskey cupboard.
I heard a few comments from her friends in the background, but couldn’t make out what they’d said.
Probably for the best. Gotta be protecting this girl, not drooling over her.
“Be at mine in two days. Thats Thursday. We’ll need to be leaving for the ai... “ She hesitated. “For the destination at about 4pm. Get here about 2 if you can.”
She sounded pleased with her almost immediate correction of her potential slip up.
“I’m guessing my Dad filled you in with the details, you know where we’re going, right?”
I half heard a crude, muffled comment from one of the girls in the background. From what I could hear it was something to do with me filling in Chloe. Chloe gasped in mock indignation, laughing, sounding a little embarrassed.
“Right,” I said. I needed to wrap this up quick. I could hear a slight echo from her end of the phone. Either it was a bad line or her phone was tapped. I didn’t know if it was possible for my location to be discovered from a tap on her phone.
I ain’t no technical whiz, that’s for damn sure. But it don’t seem likely. I don't fucking want to find out the hard way though…
“I’ll be there for sure. See ya.” I hung up.
Damn shame, could listen to the girl talk all day. ‘Specially with her a bit tipsy. I glanced down at my watch on my left wrist. Half past three.
I debated checking over my gear again.
Fuck that. It’s done, I’m prepared. Stop worrying like a goddamn old woman, Axel.
A drink would take my mind off things. Maybe two.
Chloe
“You pair of bitches!”
I guessed Axel probably hadn’t heard what my two crude and slutty friends had said when I was on the phone to him.
But part of me hopes he did. It’d be nice to give him something to think about…
I wouldn’t admit to these two because I’d never hear the last of it, but the more I thought about Axel, the further my mind went in visualising his naked, muscled form…I was looking forward to the trip more and more by the hour.
They both burst out laughing, Jessica poking me in the ribs. “Just admit it!” she said, “and we’ll stop teasing you.”
“Admit what?” I replied, raising my eyebrows with feigned innocence. “I don't know what you’re talking about.”
Amber was the first to respond. “Don’t play innocent little girl with us. I could hear from your voice you can’t wait to get your hands on his muscles…”
“Well, I cannot confirm or deny your accusations,” I sai
d, as seriously as I could, struggling to keep a straight face.
“But either way, hands off! He’s my bodyguard, remember!” I couldn’t keep it together and burst into laughter, falling towards the two girls and slapping them both on the leg.
Wow, that champagne has gone straight to my head.
But I had to admit, I was having fun. And I found flirting with Axel fun too. His serious demeanour made it even more enjoyable, and it was appealing to keep on flirting, just to get a glimpse of the man behind the facade.
Though the quickness of the phone call had barely given me any time to work my magic. All I had time to do was put on a sexy voice. One which had worked like a charm before. If he was at all human it would have given him some sort of rise, I knew it.
Chapter Five
Axel
I rose from my armchair, Chloe and whiskey on my mind, in that order. Leaving my gear in my non-descript ex-army duffel bag; the sort of no-nonsense bag you could sling over one shoulder and fuck off in an instant. I liked it, even though I had to admit it was a bit frayed and beaten.
I left the door to my small but modern apartment and ran down the steps, taking two at a time. My mind ran over the impending trip to the airport, the flight, and trip to the hotel in Paris after the flight. Going over potential routes, risks, dangers… fucking traffic hotspots. My mind was swimming with ideas and thoughts, felt like it was about to fucking explode. I regretted taking on such a mammoth undertaking, but the money was right. Plus, after meeting Chloe I felt an instinctive need to protect her, to keep her out of trouble. And it made me feel fucking nervous.
I had one more day to relax, so a few whiskies were on the cards this evening. I was out on the street now, taking in the sights and sounds of the city near my apartment. Traffic passed me on the left as I strolled purposefully along the sidewalk, the sound of engines intermittently broken by car horns. A homeless guy to my right, drunk or high; possibly both. A young, mean looking guy swaggering past him, bloodshot eyes darting everywhere at once. His hand in his jacket.
Gangster.
I avoided the hood and tossed the homeless guy a couple of ones. Not that he seemed to notice. I passed him by and headed towards my local bar. Rough, but quiet. I’d been there a few times and the locals mostly ignored me.
A young woman walked past, her hips swaying. Looking at me with hooded eyes. I winked. She smiled.
I had to walk a couple blocks and cross the road to get to the bar, Drake’s. Apparently, Drake was the owner. A rough guy of few words, who mainly grunted when you ordered a drink. He looked like he could handle himself. I liked him instantly.
I walked in the main door, swinging the heavy door back effortlessly. My eyes scanned the bar. The usual suspects were there, two old guys sitting on stools at the bar which stretched across the back of the building, with bathrooms either side. There were a couple of other regulars dotted about on the faded red leather booths, which ran down either side of the building. The space in the middle of the bar was filled by wooden tables and chairs, which were all slightly mismatched.
The locals barely paid me any attention as I walked past the tables and chairs to approach the bar. One of the old guys nodded at me, I nodded back in greeting. The owner seemed to notice the exchange, and looked my way. “Whiskey on the rocks?” he said, in a gravelly voice.
“Yeah,” I replied. “And a round for the bar.” The old guys on my right raised their glasses and nodded, with a muttered thanks. The other guys behind me in the booths toasted me a bit more vigorously.
Well, I guess that’s me initiated. Just one of the locals now. I guess they like that I don’t say much, don’t cause any trouble and can handle my drink...
“Thanks,” I grunted, picking up the whiskey that had been placed on the bar in front of me. I opted for a bar stool, on the other side of the bar as the two old locals. Usually that earned me a frown or two, but now I’d risen to the rank of initiated local, I wasn’t even glanced at.
As I took my seat at the bar the door opened loudly behind me. I heard voices in a heated exchange, either arguing or just drunk. Arguing about whose round it was, it seemed. The voices approached, piercing the silence in the bar with crude conversation.
Just what I fucking need. I took a swig of whiskey. And I was starting to fucking relax. Typical.
Without turning I could smell trouble. These guys were already drunk and they sounded up for a fight, I could hear it in their voices. I’d been around enough drunken idiots in my time to know when they were out looking for trouble; loud, aggressive, brash. Why they’d walked into a bar for old men and drunks, I had no clue.
They chose the wrong time to come in here.
I wasn’t afraid of knocking a couple heads together, if it meant peace and quiet.
The two guys approached the bar, quiet for a second. It seemed the debate over who was paying was resolved, at least for the time being.
“Get us two beers, with whiskey chasers,” one said. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the one who spoke was the smaller of the two, probably the brains. The guy to his right was big, half fat and half muscle.
Drake didn’t say a word as he begrudgingly prepared the drinks for the two, taking twice as long as he would for one of the locals. I looked his way; his gaze was fixed intently on the two rough men in front of him. He didn’t look fazed at all.
Probably got a shotgun under the bar.
The two guys resumed their heated conversation, but this time the big guy was boasting to his friend about how he had recently bedded his colleague's wife.
“Yeah, after the party we had to celebrate finishing the last job, you know. The apartment block.”
He paused to take a huge swig of whiskey, followed by half of his bottle of beer.
Construction. Explains the equal ratio of fat and muscle.
His friend laughed loudly, patting him on the shoulder. The big guy continued his boasting. “You know Mike’s wife, Shelley? Gagging for it, she was. Said he wasn’t up to the job and she needed someone big to take care of her…”
I stopped listening, and pretended to watch the small tv above the bar, behind Drake. I shifted on my seat and drained the rest of my whiskey in one go, sliding the empty glass over towards the barman. He refilled my glass obligingly, and was rather generous with the measure. I nodded at him slightly, an intense look on my face. Yeah, don’t worry. I can handle them was the look I was trying to convey. He nodded back and resumed his stance at the centre of the bar.
One of the old guys on the stools said something to the other. The other old guy laughed.
“What’s that, old man?” the big guy said, turning to face the old drunks, his back now turned to me. “Got something to say?”
His sidekick chimed in. “Say it so we can all hear it.”
“Yeah.” The big guy gestured with his beer bottle. “Ain’t polite, sayin’ things about others under your breath.”
The old guy didn’t say anything, taking a long drink from his glass. In fact he seemed to be pretending that he hadn’t heard anything at all, and he was doing a damn good job of it.
The two thugs exchanged glances. I could see the smaller guy raise his eyebrows. The big one smiled meanly. They turned back to face the old man.
“We’re talking to you. Don’t you go pretending you’ve suddenly gone deaf. I ain’t afraid of teaching you a lesson in manners, old man.” He stepped forward and poked a sausage-like finger into the old man’s chest.
I decided I’d had enough. I was almost halfway through my second whiskey and was more stressed than before I entered the bar.
Fucking hell. I never get any damn peace. Fools coulda’ done me a favour and come in here an hour later, and got chased out by the shotgun instead.
I stood up swiftly, scraping the bar stool loudly on the wooden floor. The two thugs turned to face me, mean expressions on their faces. They didn’t seem worried that I was the same height as the bigger of the two, and much more heavily m
uscled. And I looked twice as fucking mean.
First mistake.
“You got a problem as well?” the smaller one said. “Looks like everyone in here needs a lesson in fucking manners.”
I held my hands up defensively, palms facing towards them. “Listen,” I said, in a low, menacing voice; “‘Cause I’m only gonna say this once.” I paused, enjoying the silence in the bar, everyone’s attention on me. “I suggest you fuck off now, before I teach you a lesson in fucking manners.”
They stood stupefied for a second, their expressions quickly changing from shock to anger in the space of a few seconds. They both took a step towards me, arms raised.