Bodyguard Dearest (Bodyguard #1)

by Alison Foster

  “Two things. I’m not a child and I hardly need saving.”

  Kane grabs her arm roughly. Her bottom lip trembles as she tries to paint in an expression of defiance. This is some serious family shit I want no part in, but Kane has not dismissed me. He wants me to be here. Probably to cause Tris additional embarrassment.

  I can’t watch any longer. It’s not my place. I take a step backwards, raising my hand to excuse myself.

  Kane points his index finger at me, ordering me to stay put. “Do you see Tanner?” he asks his daughter, turning her roughly. “Look at him.”

  Her eyes glance at me as she mumbles, “I see him.”

  “I depend on Tanner,” Kane goes on. “He and his team allow us to enjoy the security they are paid to maintain. When he’s in the room, I breathe easy. Despite this, I am reassigning him exclusively to your protection for the next month or two. This means he will be pulled away from where he’s truly needed. Your sisters respect the delicate eco system we live in, but you insist on running off into a wide world of predators and opportunists. Until you understand the dangers, Tanner will be there to keep you safe from yourself. It’s up to you.”

  Kill me now. Is this a stunt or does Kane really want to turn me into a goddamn wet nurse for his unruly daughter? I’m not a bodyguard, I’m a fucking Security Director. I have a thousand hours of high-level military training, as well as many thousands of hours in highly volatile theaters of war, as well as live target domestic scenarios. Fuck. Now he wants me to follow a bunch of co-eds to Peet’s Coffee and Venice Beach, maybe to Rodeo Drive for some girl-time pedicures. Bullshit. Mega ball-sucking bullshit.

  Not to mention Tris already calls me a bodyguard to mock me.

  “I don’t need a fucking bodyguard,” Tris says, staring at me like I’m the symbol of the entire hot mess that is her life.

  There it is. Bodyguard. My new name.

  Kane bends his face at his daughter’s words, disapproval all over his features. “Don’t be vulgar, Tris. You were brought up in the finest schools and the most exclusive neighborhoods.”

  I almost laugh. Jordan Kane came up in the part of New York known as Hell’s Kitchen where, as he describes it, there were four whore houses on his block. He made his bones collecting until a mysterious benefactor helped him rise rapidly in life. He does business in ivory towers and leaky tenements. He’s no stranger to dark language and even darker deeds. The price he’s paid to be the man he has become must have been paid in devil’s errands.

  “Leave it to me, Sir,” I say, trying to put an end to this unpleasant exchange. “You have nothing to worry about. I’ll make sure your daughter moves about in a contained environment.”

  In my periphery I catch a furious expression on her face. She’ll have to get used to this. Tris might become a complete pain in my ass, now more so than ever, but she’ll learn to accept her situation and do what it takes to survive.

  Kane’s use of the word exclusive has a deeper meaning in our world. It means I can use extreme measures to motivate her into understanding the magnitude of the risk involved in being Jordan Kane’s youngest child.

  I’m not sure that includes putting her over my knee although that would be a good start in shaking the entitlement out of her delicate frame. It would be wise to keep my mind clear and off her delicate frame. Someday the clarity of my mind might be the only thing standing between her and a fatal accident.

  Mercifully, I make it out to the hallway and walk back to the guesthouse that has been modified into the offices of the Kane security team.

  I get the boss’s paranoia about his children. He can’t stand the thought of losing another child. It was bad enough that he lost his only son. Whether there is a heart buried deep behind his lifeless eyes or he just can’t stand appearing weak, he has made his four daughters his top priority. His motivation means nothing to me.

  I am assignment driven and I have my assignment.

  Derek bows in an exaggerated fashion when I enter the kitchen. He’s strange that way. Dominic and a new guy whose name I have trouble remembering sit at the table.

  “Has the prodigal daughter been returned?” Derek says, following me with his gaze. His eyes are puffy and a yawn escapes his mouth before I give him an answer. Up late gambling or whoring or both. His element.

  “Same story, different day,” I say, heading for the coffee machine.

  “I don’t know how you handle it,” Derek says, clapping loudly. “That little one is fucking Joan of Arc. Hot little ass, but high maintenance doesn’t cover it. She’s straight out crazy that one.”

  “She’s the boss’s daughter,” I warn him, pouring myself black coffee.

  “Fresh donuts,” Dominic says, shoving a Boston Cream under my nose.

  Derek gets up, doing a strange dance, stupid grin on his face. “What? I’m not about that at all. Everyone knows you’ve had your eye on her.”

  Fixing my eyes on him, I make my disapproval clear. “What the fuck did you say?”

  “Nothing,” he says. “I misspoke. Had a late night. Forget it.”

  I slap Dominic’s hand aside, causing the donut to fly across the room and bounce off the wall. “Show some respect,” I tell Derek. “She’s nineteen and not one of your late night conquests.”

  “I know. I was just saying,” Derek goes on, shifting on his feet.

  I exhale and imagine the joy of smacking him right off his nervous feet but that wouldn’t do any good. It might make me feel good for a moment, but Derek is the most valued member of my team. And I know not to take him seriously. He has decided long ago that everything on Earth is a fucking joke.

  “Cut the bullshit and give me a status update,” I say, ending it.

  Derek shrugs. “Nothing but dead air and donuts.”

  “You’ve only been gone half a day,” Dominic says.

  “All good,” guy with no name adds.

  I nod and let the coffee burn my lips. “Only takes a minute for kingdoms to fall,” I say, knowing I’ll get groans and rolled eyes.

  “Jesus, man, get a new catch phrase,” Derek says. “That one is wore out like a hooker’s poop shoot.”

  I laugh. New guy spits coffee up on the table. I’m pretty sure he won’t be here long and that’s probably the reason I haven’t remembered his name.

  “Damn it, Riley,” Dominic says. Some of the spit coffee made it onto his lap.

  Riley? That’s right. Already forgetting it again.

  “And for the record,” I blurt out. “I’m paid to keep my eye on Tris Kane. In fact, now I have to do it 24/7.”

  “No?” Dominic says.

  “Yeah,” I say.

  “Dude,” Derek says.

  “Babysitting,” I say.

  “Fuck,” Dominic says.

  “Tell me about it,” I say.

  No one says anything. I notice a smile emerging on Derek’s stupid face.

  “Just say it,” I command.

  “I’m not going to say it,” he says.

  “That’s an order,” I clarify.

  “Well, it could be worse,” Derek says. “At least she’s hot.”

  Dominic laughs. Fucking Riley spits out his coffee again. I really need to fire him. Tough guys don’t do spit takes for fuck’s sake.

  If I’m being honest, Tris is indeed exquisitely beautiful. I’ve never seen a more stunning face.

  “You really want me to knock your fucking head off?” I say, unable to hide my reluctant amusement.

  “Don’t look at me. I acted under your orders, boss.”

  “Yeah. You did. And it’s the only reason you still have your teeth.”

  Riley looks concerned. He hasn’t been around long enough to know Derek lives to bust my balls and I never smack him around for it.

  “At least I have good dental,” Derek says.

  Banter has never been my thing. I lose interest fast.

  “I’m going a grab a few winks,” I say, spilling the rest of my coffee in the sink. “Keep
your eyes on the cameras. Call me if needed.”

  “Yep, boss,” Dominic says.

  I head straight to the small sitting area opposite the kitchen and shut the door behind me. I take a deep breath in before I plop down on the couch.

  I learned the art of the five-minute nap in the Korengal Valley in Afghanistan. No matter how hostile the squat, I could get a few winks whenever my gun wasn’t needed. I might wake up to a living hell, a world where dreams spilled as fast as blood from veins, but for five minutes I floated in the ether above the fuss and the fray. Rifles rang out all around me and just turned into thunderclaps within the clouds of my slumber.

  I brought back my ability to nap and little else from those five years in the service of God and country. I also possess a few specific skills of little value in the civilized world except to men like Jordan Kane.

  One-by-one, I shut down the electricity within. I know how to do this. I lean back and chase away the light from what burns brightest inside me. Gone is the violence. Gone is the emptiness. Gone is the sense of duty.

  Her eyes are the last thing I am able to chase away.

  Chapter 3

  Trista

  How on earth could my life get worse? I’m a hot mess and a train wreck and a total fuck-up all rolled into one miserable time bomb. In classic Trista form, I’m not just back where I started, but so-much-fucking-WORSE. That gorilla Tanner Hayes will be breathing down my neck every second of every day for at least a month.

  Totally numb. Beyond anger or any human feeling at all, I need to channel all the suppressed negative energy into something useful before I explode. A hot shower might be a good start. I kick a few random pieces of clothing off the floor and into my hands. Walking into my spacious bathroom I stop when I see how red my cheeks are in the mirror.

  I drop the clothes into the empty laundry hamper, fighting off the annoying thought that both my father and Tanner might have a point when they suggest I’m spoiled. Even the hamper reminds me of my pampered life. When I left here, it was packed full with my laundry and now all that clothing is gone, miraculously folded and placed in drawers or on hangers.

  The invisible hands of household fairies and pixies have been spoiling me this way since birth. There is so much I take for granted. True independence begins with the small things, like doing your own laundry or cooking your own meals. I should be able to do these things without help.

  I’m about to slide out of my jeans to shower when I hear a loud thud coming from outside. I rush back to the bedroom to peek outside the window.

  Two beefy security guys walk down the path to the main gate with a third man between them. By the looks of it, they’re escorting him out forcibly.

  Who is this poor guy? An intruder? Someone my father’s not pleased with? What the hell are they going to do with him? It’s not like anybody would be willing to answer those questions for me, but I decide to go out and look for answers anyway.

  I’m tired of being outside the loop. If Tanner is my bodyguard now, doesn’t that mean I’m his boss, more or less? One thing’s for sure, it won’t be easy for him to dodge my questions anymore—not if he wants a single moment of peace. He can’t run. He’s stuck with me.

  The big guy thought I was annoying before? Huh! You haven’t seen nothing yet, Tanner Hayes. My teeth are coming out. You’ll wish you were back in the Middle East before I am through with you.

  I zip up my jeans and run down the stairs to the back door that leads to the security team’s building. Mister muscle cake will regret having agreed to guard me like some rabid animal who needs to be subdued.

  I’m about to go out the door when I hear my mother’s voice.

  “Honey, you're back!” Her hair is a softer shade of blonde than it was three days ago when I left. Really, Mom? You found time to do your hair while your sweet daughter was missing?

  Oh well, I might as well give her the benefit of the doubt. It’s not the first time I took off like that and she probably was left in the dark for a while. I decide not to get clarification on the matter of her hair. I’d like to think she would cancel a hair appointment if I had been kidnapped or worse.

  She wraps her arms around me before I can respond. All my senses are instantly submerged in her distinct combination of perfume and soaps, the most exquisite and sublime scents money can buy. I’ve always loved the way my mother smells and I kind of feel like a child when she hugs me, which is a rare thing these days.

  “Mom, it wasn’t a big deal. I was with a guy I’m dating,” I say, pulling back a little.

  She steps back to shake her head. “Another romance? Tris, I wasn’t born yesterday. Whoever this young man is, I know he’s just another way for you to escape. I just don’t understand why? Don’t you know how much we love you?”

  “I know, Mom. Love isn’t the question here. Breathing is the question. I’m spiritually suffocated and just want to lead my own life.”

  I don’t know why I bother. I’ve said it all before. We’ve said it all before. Everyone at Casa Kane knows the deal. This shit is stuck on repeat. I’m sure the house staff find us ridiculous. I live in a room the size of most family apartments and I arrogantly refer to it as a prison.

  My mother lets out a sigh. “Believe it or not, I understand,” she says. “But that doesn’t make me any less worried. We all have to accept our place in life, baby. You’re my youngest. You will always be my baby whether you like it or not.”

  Okay, I did not expect that. Sincerity is not my mother’s usual approach. I guess she’s been thinking about Miles, my brother, who took a part of her with him when he passed. I try not to judge my mother and her manicured life.

  “Don’t worry, Mom, please. One of daddy’s good squad is never too far. You know that. Your baby always has a sitter.” I realize that didn’t come off as humorous as I intended. Sounded a little bitter in fact. An actress I’m not.

  “Your time will come, honey,” she says, brushing back my hair. “You just need to be patient.”

  Real strong advice. I’ll pack that away with the grass is always greener and the sun will come out tomorrow. I should be set for life with such wisdom on my side. I nod with a smile and then cover the few yards to the security building quickly. I feel rudderless now. My conviction to make Tanner’s life harder has even begun to weaken.

  Like in a bad movie, I walk right into his chest as he steps out the exact moment I reach out to ring the door buzzer.

  Tanner puts both his big hands on my shoulders to steady me.

  “You almost,” I say without a clue what to say next. I just stand silently looking up into his intense eyes.

  “Can I help you with something?” he says, face cold as stone.

  I straighten my back and neck before I talk. Shit, I should never stand that close to Tanner without heels on. His sheer size makes me feel like I’m about to vanish. “Everything?” I say, shrugging. “Aren’t you supposed to be my shadow? I could have slipped on a banana peel by now.”

  “I have that covered,” he says. “You’re good.”

  “But I’m not good, that’s the whole point.”

  He starts walking away before I even finish my sentence. What the hell? Why is he being so polite? I’d expect at least a sarcastic remark or two.

  It takes me a second before I make up my mind to turn and follow him. I’m not sure what I’m doing. It’s supposed to be the other way around—him following me and me trying to lose him.

  Tanner gets to the fitness center in the basement where most guards work out as part of their ongoing training and daily routine.

  My heart skips a beat, or maybe all the beats, when he takes off his jacket and his upper body pops out of a tight sleeveless shirt. Maybe it’s just reflexes that keep my heart going when he bends over to pick up a barbell because I sure as hell don’t control it anymore.

  My mouth reluctantly waters at the sight of his huge flexing biceps underneath that perfect, unblemished golden tanned skin of his as he starts wor
king out. This is all Vaughn’s fault for so completely lacking in masculinity.

  Tanner acts like I’m not even here. It just makes me more determined to get his attention. “Hey, what happened earlier?” I say. “I saw two of your goons escorting someone off the property.”

  “That’s classified,” he says, grimacing as he lifts.

  “So you won’t tell me?”

  “Nope.”

  He puts down the barbell and walks to a shelf on the wall to get a towel.

  “Tanner, Tanner, Tanner,” I say with a sigh. “Is this new tactic supposed to keep me in line? If only you were half as smart as you think you are.”

  He wipes his forehead and upper arms before he climbs onto an elliptical bike. The stubborn jerk is completely avoiding eye contact.

  “Not a thing? You won’t say anything?” I pester as I follow him. “You won’t ask me my point?” I don’t know why it pisses me off that he doesn’t take the bait, but it does. I’m furious like he owes me something, like he’s obligated to talk to me. “Like it or not, you work for…”

  He cuts me off just by finally fixing his severe eyes on me. “That man you saw?” he says. “He was supposed to be watching you the day you ran off. That’s the result of the little tricks you pull. A man loses a job.”

  This throws me off by a lot. “What are they going to do to him?”

  He stops his workout. “What do you think?”

  I swallow hard, feeling my throat going dry. “You don’t mean…?”

  “You’re so gullible,” he says with a slight grin. Finally, I’m getting a human reaction out of him. “He lost his job. That’s all. And he will probably never get hired again, at least not in this city. Your father will see to that.”

  He resumes his workout, completely ignoring the frustrated look on my face. Did I really cause a man to lose his job? Wait, I must have caused many men to lose their jobs with my escapes.

  “Why are you still here?” Tanner asks.

  I can’t think of anything more to say.

  He’s honestly managed to make me feel smaller and smaller now. I’m not liking myself much right now. “I need to get to school,” I blurt out. “I guess you are to escort me?”