Black and White

by Cynthia Rayne

  King sighed. Fine. “Whatcha got there, Mack?”

  “Huh?” She blinked, as though noticing them for the first time. “Right, the box.” Mack sat beside King and opened it to reveal a swanky leather watch.

  He pointed. “Are those—”

  “Diamonds? Yeah. It’s from Hermès.”

  The watch face was encrusted with a ring of them. King had never seen so much bling in his life.

  “Holy shit. Who bought it for you?” Zane leaned over to get a better look. Since the company was just starting out, she couldn’t have afforded such a luxury item. Their salaries were on the small side until they could pull in some more clients.

  “Um yeah, about that.” Her cheeks went a hectic shade of red. “Remember the robber?”

  Storm’s eyebrows backed up into his hairline. “John Doe? The one who got away from us?”

  It was still a sore spot with the team. Along with the serial killer and the junkie, they’d found John Doe, but he’d taken a hostage, whom he later released. Presumably, he was somewhere in Canada.

  “Bingo.” She snapped her fingers. “When I was trying to talk him into giving himself up, he asked me what I would buy, if I’d stolen the money, instead of him.” King, Zane, and Storm hadn’t been at the scene when he escaped, so they didn’t know the full story.

  “Let me guess, you told him you’d buy that fancy pants watch?” King offered.

  “Yep.”

  “And then he got it for you?” Zane raised a brow.

  Mack nodded. “Right again.”

  Zane whistled. “Damn, girl, you should’ve asked for a Maserati.”

  She laughed. “Let me be clear, I didn’t ‘ask’ for anything. He up and bought it for me out of the blue.”

  “Because he’s sweet on you.” King couldn’t find any other reasonable explanation.

  Mack shook her head. “No, he’s messing with us.”

  “No, this isn’t how some criminal sticks it to law enforcement.” Storm pointed to the watch. “He wanted to impress you.”

  Mack folded her arms across her chest. “Anyway, I thought I could get some clues from it, but the watch came by messenger, so there’s no shipping address to track down, and he paid in cash, too.”

  “Dammit,” Zane said. “I’m guessin’ he used a fake name, too.”

  She nodded.

  No one new Doe’s real name anyway. The FBI was forced to charge him under the alias because he’d refused to give them his real name. According to records, they’d interrogated him for days, but he never blinked. In other words, he was one tough customer, and his interest in Mack was troubling to say the least.

  “So, what are you gonna do with it?” King asked.

  She swallowed. “I guess I have to turn it into the FBI. The watch is evidence, isn’t it?”

  Zane snorted. “Fuck that. I say you keep it, or better yet, sell it. Use the money to pay off some bills.”

  “There’s one more thing.”

  “What?” Storm asked.

  “It’s engraved, too.”

  “What’s it say?” King leaned over.

  She showed King the back of the watch face. It read: Until Next Time.

  “Woah.”

  “Yeah. Clearly, he plans on seeing me again.” She bit her lower lip.

  And from what he gathered, Mack wasn’t discomforted by the fact. If anything, she was looking forward to another encounter. Maybe it’s the whole lure of the bad boy thing. King had never understood it.

  Why go for a bad boy, when you could have a decent man?

  While King doubted Doe meant her any harm, having a dangerous felon romantically interested in you never worked out.

  She ran her thumb over the leather strap. “Damn, it’s smooth, like butter.”

  “Have you tried it on yet?” Storm asked.

  “No, of course not.” She snapped the case shut. “I guess it doesn’t matter. We don’t have the funds to track him down.”

  “I don’t think we need to. If we play our cards right, he’ll come to us, well, to you anyway.” Storm pointed at her.

  “I didn’t ask him to send me a gift.”

  King held up his hands. “No one here is sayin’ you did.”

  “Yeah, easy there. It ain’t your fault,” Zane chimed in.

  Mack tucked the box into her pocket. “Anyway, I should get going. I have a lot on my plate today.” And then she headed up the stairs, ending the conversation.

  King shook his head sadly, watching her go. “Yeah, that’s gonna end well.”

  “Think we should do something?” Storm asked.

  “Nope, it ain’t our business. Besides, she’s a big girl and can take care of herself.”

  King would stay in his own lane on this one, and not get involved. It wasn’t like he was her brother or her boyfriend.

  After he finished eating, King headed into the living room. Zane went upstairs to get ready, and Storm grabbed his laptop and took a seat in the meeting room.

  King ordered Google Home to turn on the TV. They had a massive flat screen television which took up a large portion of one wall. Storm, their technology guru, had outfitted HQ with smart speakers, among other toys.

  He flipped through the channels, until he found the news, and half-listened as the reporter droned on about the stock market. But King nearly choked when a headline flashed across the bottom of the screen.

  Singer, Savannah Summers, injured in an attack.

  After thumbing up the volume, he leaned forward, listening intently as the anchorman spoke.

  “According to the hospital spokesperson, her injuries were minor, and she is expected to make a full recovery. However, one of her backup singers is dead. The country music star has canceled the European leg of her world tour and is reportedly heading home to the United States. Her publicist has declined to answer questions about the incident. Instead, she read a written statement, saying Summers will be resting and recovering with her loved ones.”

  Meaning she was headed to Kentucky? Her momma lived in the area, and Savvy had a house near her.

  The reporter moved on to another news segment, and King frantically flicked through channels, seeking more details, but they were frustratingly few and far between. He grabbed his phone and checked Savvy’s social media accounts, looking for updates, but all he found was well wishes from her fans. He posted one himself before he tossed the phone down with disgust.

  Saying he was a fan, was something of an understatement. Savvy meant a great deal to him, and since her security team had failed her, maybe she was in the market for a new bodyguard?

  Like, say, somebody from Black Star Security?

  Savvy wouldn’t have gotten hurt on his watch, that’s for damn sure.

  Bellowing for West, King took the stairs two at a time. They had to contact her manager and offer their services.

  No, offer his services.

  ***

  “They won’t hire us. We’ve only been operatin’ a few months.”

  A half an hour later, King and Jackson West, the head of their firm, sat in the meeting room.

  It was an eye-catching place. There were three brick walls, and one large floor to ceiling window, with a breathtaking view of the woods behind the property.

  In the center of the room, stood a farmer’s table surrounded by several brown leather chairs. There were a series of framed posters on the wall, all of them featuring motivational sayings.

  The only easy day was yesterday.

  Don’t run to your death.

  All in, all the time.

  The last one meant a great deal to King. He never did anything by half measure. Whatever situation he was facing, King rolled up his sleeves and got the work done. He’d follow the same roadmap while protecting Savvy.

  In the center was the Navy warfare special insignia—a golden eagle clutching a trident, an anchor, and a rifle. He and West had gone through BUD/S training together although they’d ended up on different SEAL teams.


  They’d been stationed in Little Creek, Virginia afterward. When West had offered King a position, he’d only been too happy to turn in his resignation. King had wanted a job in the private sector for a long time.

  “Yeah, but they definitely won’t give us a shot, if we sit here and do nothin’.” At the very least, it was worth a try.

  West pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine, I’ll make some calls and see what I can do, but I ain’t makin’ any promises.” West was also in his thirties, fit. He had short-cropped blond hair and sharp blue eyes.

  Why did he have to be so pessimistic?

  “Don’t be so negative. The power of positive thought can change the world, brother.”

  “Gee, thanks, Gandhi.”

  King flipped him off. “When this goes through, the case is mine, and I’ll handle everything.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Don’t count your chickens.” After firing off an email to his Nashville contact, West sat back in his chair, his brows drawing together. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re a bit too excited.”

  “Naw, I’m just enthusiastic about helpin’ her.”

  King didn’t want anything to happen to Savvy, but he was excited about the opportunity to meet her in person. He’d gone to several of her concerts, and he’d downloaded all her music.

  At one time, the songs had been a lifeline.

  “The more I think about this, the more I realize it’s a terrible idea. If we get the contract, somebody else should take it.”

  “Why the fuck would you go and say a thing like that?”

  “Because you’re emotionally involved. I know how much you like Savvy.”

  West is out of his ever-lovin' mind if he thinks I’ll let somebody else protect her.

  “West this case is mine, brother.”

  “I believe the title you’re lookin’ for here, is Chief.” He laid a palm on his chest. “I’m the boss here, not you.”

  They called one another “brother” because they were a tightknit group, but West was technically in charge. They referred to him as “Chief,” as a term of respect.

  “I’m gonna shoot your ass if you don’t let me do this. And, no, I’m not joking.”

  “I rest my case.” West spread his hands. “You’re all over the place. What if somethin’ happens to her?” He sighed. “After your wife—”

  “I don’t want to talk about Nicole.”

  “You never do.”

  “Will you drop it?”

  West held up his hands in surrender. “Consider it dropped.”

  “Thank you. Nothin’ will happen to Savvy, not while I’m by her side.” He squared his shoulders.

  “Tell you what, Prince Charmin’, will discuss this after I find out if it’s even a possibility. Are we cool…?”

  “Yeah, no hard feelings, brother, but this is happenin’, get on board.”

  And then King stormed off.

  “Was it somethin’ I said?” West called, after him.

  ***

  “Seriously? You’re bringin’ the dog?”

  “Remember our earlier conversation?” Zane drawled. “Think back. We were both in a gym, you were sweaty and out of breath…”

  “This is gonna be a long car ride, isn’t it?”

  Bomber was in the backseat of King’s gunmetal gray Jeep Wrangler, lying on a red blanket, chewing on a toy.

  King shook his head in disgust.

  Three hours had passed since he’d spoken with West, and he’d secured them a meeting with Savvy’s manager, Adam Campbell. West had wanted to come, but he’d gotten involved in another case this morning. King hadn’t caught any of the details on his way out the door, but apparently, it was a big deal. In fact, the rest of the team was working on it. Unfortunately, he’d sent Zane with King, which sucked big time, because he didn’t need a babysitter.

  “Why are you riled about the dog? Do you think she’ll mind?”

  “Actually, Savvy loves dogs. As a kid, she had a Scottish Terrier named Angus, but he was run over by a car when she was sixteen, and she was devastated. Since then—”

  “Oh, my God.”

  “What?”

  “You know her childhood pet’s name.”

  King rubbed the back of his neck. “So, sue me, I remember details.”

  “No, you’re basically a stalker, and she’s your internet girlfriend.” Zane snickered.

  “I don’t know why West sent you with me in the first place, I can handle this on my own.” King gripped the steering wheel, to keep from decking Zane.

  “West didn’t think so. By the way, he wanted me to remind you to be a professional. We don’t have a reputation in the industry yet. If you fuck this up, we won’t get another shot in Nashville.”

  “I’m aware of the stakes, thank you very much.”

  West had to call in three favors even to get this meeting. It was by no means a guarantee they’d get the job. He’d had to contact a friend, of a friend, and so on. Apparently, one of his old Navy buddies worked at a studio.

  “He also gave me some rules, assumin’ we get this gig. Number one, don’t get her killed.”

  “I ain’t plannin’ on it.”

  “Number two, don’t screw around with her, even if she bat’s her lashes at you.”

  She was country music royalty. As if she’d give me a second thought.

  “Don’t worry. Neither one of those is a problem for me.”

  “Are you gonna ask her to take a selfie with you?”

  “No.”

  “Ask her to sign your butt cheek?”

  “No!”

  “Make her autograph all the magazine pictures of her you tucked into your sock drawer?”

  “How did you…shut up.”

  “Hey, no worries, big guy.” Zane slapped him on the shoulder. “I won’t tell her.”

  “If you don’t shut the fuck up, I’ll pull over and punch you in the throat.”

  Zane cackled, pleased he’d gotten under King’s skin.

  Later, they pulled up in front of Savvy’s mother’s house.

  They’d gotten the directions from her manager after he’d faxed them a nondisclosure agreement to sign. The brick house was set back on three acres of property, and it was fenced in, but there were no other fortifications King could see.

  “This place is gonna be a bitch to protect,” Zane said.

  “Tell me about it.”

  The house was surrounded by woods on three sides, where anyone can be hiding. A sniper could get in and out without anyone noticing. It wasn’t even on high ground where they’d have a vantage point.

  “She needs to leave.” King couldn’t protect her, not under these conditions.

  “You think some spoiled celebrity is gonna do what we tell them to?”

  “Savvy ain’t spoiled.”

  “How do you know? You’ve never even met her, King.”

  “She seems nice.”

  Zane made a face. “Oh, Jesus. You’re gonna swoon, aren’t you?”

  He pulled back a fist. “Is it throat punchin’ time?”

  “You’re so full of shit, it ain’t even funny.” Evidently, Zane wasn’t buying it.

  King leaned closer. “Say that again.”

  “Easy now.” Zane hopped out, tugged on Bomber’s leash and headed for the front door. “Come on, Lover Boy, let’s go meet your sweetheart.”

  Gritting his teeth, King followed.

  After they showed some identification, they were waved in by a couple of bodyguards. After heading down a long hallway, they arrived in a living room. Like the outside indicated, the place was nice—a leather sectional sofa, large screen television, and a couple of oak end tables, but nothing particularly fancy.

  Three more bodyguards, a man in an expensive suit with a redhead on his arm, and then finally Savvy filed into the room.

  King sucked in a breath, as his gaze fixed on Savvy.

  She was even more beautiful in person—tousled blond hair, big blue eyes, sun-k
issed skin, and she wore a V neck black shirt and a pair of jeans which showcased her curves. And while she looked fantastic, Savvy was quiet, eyes fixed on the floor, oblivious to her surroundings.

  Clearly, she was disturbed by the incident.

  His heart went out to her. King knew exactly how she felt. Watching someone, you care for die right in front of you was devastating.

  “I’m Adam Campbell,” said the man with the snazzy suit. “And this is my fiancé, Emerald Price.” The redhead waved. “And of course, you know Savannah Summers.” Adam gestured to her, but Savvy wasn’t paying attention. He didn’t bother introducing the guards.

  “Pleased to meet ya.” King shook Adam’s hand, and so did Zane.

  “You’re with Black Star Security, correct?”

  “Right. I’m Quentin Zane, and this is Thomas King.” Zane pointed to King. “We prefer to go by our last names.”

  He glanced at his phone. “Your boss, Jackson West, used to work with Earl Blake, right?”

  “Yup,” King said. “And Mr. Blake used to provide security for Callie Carter.” She’d been the opening act for a couple of big country stars.

  “And you were both Navy SEALs?” Adam squinted at them, as though unimpressed.

  “Once a SEAL, always a SEAL,” King said.

  “How does this work? You’d take turns protectin’ Savvy?”

  “Yes,” King said, although, he’d rather be on a solo mission. “If you hire us, we will divide guard duty into two twelve-hour shifts.

  Savvy still wasn’t paying attention.

  Adam nodded. “I assume you’ve seen the news and know what we're up against?”

  “Yeah, several times. He’s her number one fan.” Zane elbowed King.

  King smiled broadly like nothing was wrong. But later, there would be an epic ass-kicking, especially if he didn’t get this job because of Zane’s big mouth.

  Adam frowned.

  Savvy glanced up but said nothing.

  Time for damage control.

  “Yes, I enjoy her music.”

  Enjoy was such an unenthusiastic term. However, he didn’t want to appear unhinged, so he held back.

  Adam shook his head. “Look, I appreciate you drivin’ all the way out here, but I took this meetin’ as a courtesy. While we appreciate the offer, as you can see, we’ve got her security needs covered.”

  He gestured to the bodyguards behind him. They were dressed in jeans and black shirts, as though it were a uniform. And yet they weren’t paying attention to their surroundings, mentally tuning out. Dumbasses like these could get her killed.