Chapter Text
It’d been three days since the brakes on his car had gone out. There was an active factory recall regarding the master cylinder on the same make and model Buck owned, but his uncle didn’t believe in coincidences. So, Buck suffered the indignity of being chauffeured in the back of a giant SUV like a teenager.
Buck fiddled with his silver cuff links. He enjoyed nice clothes. Nothing expressed confidence like blazers with a flare of the color pallet. Today he wore an olive jacket with matching pants and a peach shirt, no tie. Never a tie. Those were stuffy, pretentious.
Chim looked over from the seat next to him. "You’re fidgety."
"What else is new?"
Chim grabbed a bottle of water from a cup holder. "Look. I know you hate this and for the record, I’m not exactly thrilled at the prospect of spending 24/7 with you for the near future."
Near future. Yeah, no. He was a businessman, he had meetings and deadlines. Not to mention a few people to intimidate. While Buck understood using the very same tactics he was trying to end while converting his family business into legitimate operations was a little hypocritical, it was the results that mattered.
When all was said and done, maybe his father would finally look at him with respect instead of skepticism.
Until then, well, Buck didn't exactly practice what he preached. Occasionally, he got threatened, but it was usually all hot air and ego. Despite what Hollywood liked to sell, people in his line of work didn’t kill each other or break their kneecaps. Cyber-attacks, shady business dealings, sure.
Which made today's meeting unnecessary. But Chim wore his aviator sunglasses, which meant that his right-hand man and brother-in-law wasn't going to take no for an answer. It didn't mean Buck wouldn't complain. "I don’t need a bodyguard."
"You need additional security."
"Then why can’t we hire from the million private security firms out there?"
"Because we need someone who isn’t connected to any other power figures in the city."
Don’t trust anyone who could secretly work for the enemy. Another of his uncle’s motto's. Buck sighed.
"So, what? We’re choosing drop-outs?"
"No. All three gentlemen work-for-themselves, and all come highly recommended from Athena."
That ended any further protests from him. Resigned to his fate, Buck waited until they pulled into the empty parking garage. Lucy, their driver, waited in the car while they got out.
Chim exited first then came around the side to open the door for Buck.
It was stuffy inside the parking garage and two of the three men were dressed in what Buck knew to be very expensive suits. He watched sweat trickle down their faces, except for Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome on the far right. He wore a light black leather jacket with a black shirt that stretched over his chest, and jeans that fit him like a glove.
Buck could think of a few ways in which this guy could protect him.
The five men stood staring at one another until Chim got the ball rolling. "Since I don’t think any of us wants to go by, Hey You. We’ll stick to last names if it’s all the same. I’m Han and your client is Mr. Buckley."
Buck could tell the first guy was a pompous asshole by his thick mustache and ridiculous shoulder holsters. The guy took one look at Buck’s attire, and it was obvious he wanted to make a joke, but cleared his throat instead. "I’m Payne."
His friend was short and squat and looked like he spent too much time in the gym, his bullet-proof vest visible beneath shirt. He addressed Chim instead. "Name’s Stone."
Both crossed their arms over their chests almost at the same time.
Tall Dark and Handsome, however, seemed quite at ease with himself, oozing self-assurance. He nodded at Chim then leveled his gaze at Buck, one corner of his mouth lifting in, appreciation? Admiration? It was hard to tell.
"Diaz."
Diaz. The soft accent made Buck’s skin tingle. And those dark brown eyes? Buck barely suppressed a shiver.
"Here’s the deal," Chim started. "We’ve got a trip to Santa Barbara and back and we need the three of you to come along. Each of you gets five hundred for the day. Depending on how things go, there might be more permanent work for one of you when it’s over."
Payne nodded at them. "The way I see it, you only need Stone and I since one of us didn’t come prepared for the job."
Chim glanced between Payne and Diaz. "While there is no dress code for security work, I do agree about levels of professionalism."
"And sometimes professionalism attracts attention when discreet is more appropriate."
Buck smiled at Diaz’s comeback.
"Oh really," Payne scoffed. "Does discreteness include not carrying a weapon?"
"I don’t need a weapon."
Instead of engaging, Chim stood as if watching a very entertaining tennis match. Buck, on the other hand, was caught entranced by Diaz’s smugness.
For a position that demanded calm under pressure, Payne lost by a mile. "Don’t need a weapon? Are you fucking kidding me? This is a protection job."
"I’ll tell you what,” Diaz returned with a brief glance at Payne, then back to Buck, “if I need a gun, I’ll use one of his."
The fact that Diaz said that with an air of nonchalance while only addressing Buck was such a power play. It turned Buck on like a circuit breaker.
"You’ll use one of mine?" Payne scoffed. "And how exactly do you plan to do that, Jackass?"
"I guess, I’m going to take it from you."
Things were escalating quickly. Buck almost took a step forward, but Chim touched his arm, easing them both away, not in fear, but to better observe.
"You’re going to take my gun, huh?" Payne pulled out his Sig Sauer. "Come on, Diaz. I’ve made it easy for you. Take my gun."
Diaz sighed and slowly turned around and looked down at where the weapon rested in Payne’s palm. "Or you could make it not so easy."
Buck started to sweat. Jesus.
"Not a problem." Payne flipped the weapon and pointed the barrel at Diaz’s head. "What are you going to--"
Diaz grabbed Payne’s wrist, twisting the gun out of his hand and ejecting the clip to the ground. He popped the round, catching the bullet with his other hand.
Payne stared at Diaz dumbfounded, his jaw muscles clenching. "You son of a bitch." He charged and Diaz jabbed the pistol into his larynx.
Payne dropped to the ground, clutching his throat and gagging.
Diaz stuck the Sig into the back of his belt and crouched beside Payne. "Let me see whatcha got." He pulled out another Sig Sauer and shook his head. "Kind of overkill, but we’re all compensating for something."
Buck watched, entranced as Diaz pulled out a third weapon from an ankle holster, snorting in amusement while Payne continued clutching his throat. Diaz paused, studying Payne a moment before patting him on the shoulder. "You’ll be fine. Just be sure to ice that when you get home."
After collecting the weapons, Diaz tossed two of them in the near-by trash can. Wiping his hands, he glanced over at Stone as if daring him to say something.
Stone turned on his heel and quickly got out of Dodge.
"You might want to roll your tongue back inside your mouth," Chim whispered in Buck’s ear.
Buck glanced at Chim, who looked like a man who needed an exceptionally long vacation. Chim sighed. "Just remember we're hiring this guy to have your back, not to be on his back for you. Got it?"
"No promises," Buck said with a grin.
But he schooled his features when Diaz stood resting his hands in front of him like they’d all just had the most pleasant of conversations. "Seeing as it’s just me. I think it's only fair that I get all fifteen hundred for today."
Chim quirked an eyebrow, but Buck held out his hand. "Sounds fair to me."
Diaz grinned ever so slightly, giving Buck a firm handshake.
They had been on the road for only five minutes before Diaz had started asking questions from where he sat next to Buck in the back seat. "I need to know the objective of where we’re going. Who’s involved, details of the location."
Chim looked at Buck in the rear-view mirror from his new spot in the front passenger-seat. He nodded.
"That seems fair. I’m meeting with a few clients about restructuring our business agreements. It’ll be in the private back room of a restaurant. Public but discreet." Buck smiled at Diaz. "Kind of like you."
He could sense Chim roll his eyes from here.
"How many? And are you on good terms with them? What about security?"
"I don’t know. To a degree. And of course."
"Buck," Chim growled from the front.
Diaz cleared his throat, obviously annoyed but trying to remain professional. "You hired me to do a job. I can’t do it if you don’t give me the intel I need."
Buck leaned into Diaz’s ear, admiring the slight scruff of his skin and the faint scent of sandalwood. "You’re so formal. I thought maybe, if you wanted, we could go by our first names?” He kept his face close, their cheeks almost touching.
"Diaz is fine, Mr. Buckley. With that out of the way, could you answer my questions?"
God, that low, throaty response went right to Buck’s cock. He licked his lips, sitting back to admire the way Diaz stared at him, unphased. Oh, yeah, Buck was going to make it his mission to have Diaz beg Buck to do filthy things to him.
"I’ll let Chim fill you in," Buck responded.
Chim gave him the middle finger from the front seat.
The dinner went as well as expected. Wine and pasta were consumed. There were arguments. Tempers flared and egos soothed.
Buck left with a sense of satisfaction. The Gallo family agreed to dissolve their partnership over the selling of land and zoning influence in L.A county. Buck’s family got the first pick of land deals for five years in exchange for the connected council members.
Maybe Diaz would lighten up a little with a few beers in him. While Buck enjoyed the strong silent type, Diaz had made Gallo’s own security a little anxious. Sometimes being too intimidating could create tension.
They’d been walking for a few minutes and needed to find a bar.
"Um, this way," Diaz said when Buck started toward the exit.
Buck was so surprised by the change in direction that it took a moment before he realized Diaz had sidled beside him, a hand on his back to guide Buck and Chim through the kitchen.
"Um, why are we…?"
"Detour," Diaz said.
"Yeah, I can see that," Buck went along for the time being. "There’s this great martini place across the street."
"Uh, huh," Diaz said.
Now the cockiness was starting to piss him off. They made their way around line cooks and wait staff and people chopping vegetables. It was steamy and hot. Buck didn’t want to be sticky when he finally sat down.
When they came out the alley beside overflowing dumpsters, Buck glared at the other two. "Now that we’re in the clear, I want to go to a bar."
Chim nodded at Diaz. "He’ll be insufferable if he doesn’t get his drink on."
Buck ignored him. "There’s this great jazz joint, or wait, I know a swanky lounge."
"I know a place," Diaz said.
And just like that, Buck was ignored as Chim followed Diaz down a side street. So, the hired muscle was calling the shots now?
Diaz’s choice was a dive bar with velvet Elvis paintings on the wall and Guns and Roses on the jukebox.
"Seriously?" Buck growled.
"Enjoy your beer," Chim said, sliding over a pint glass.
They had taken a small table in the corner with a clear vantage point of the front door. Buck drank his pint with a grimace. Diaz sat across from him, deceptively relaxed. Buck could tell he was casing the place.
"The job’s over, you can have a drink."
"The job’s over when we get back."
"The deal’s done. It’s time to celebrate."
Buck drank another beer and a couple of shots, allowing a warm buzz to take over. Despite the sounds of a nearby pool game and some obnoxious hair metal, he was going to enjoy his business victory. And maybe enjoy the view, as well.
Diaz was being a putz, but he was still easy on the eyes. Buck itched to see all that hard muscle beneath his clothes. And although he schooled his features, Buck could tell when Diaz was checking him out, casting quick glances in Buck’s direction when he didn’t think Buck was looking.
It was a fun distraction. Because paranoia was contagious. Buck was trying to go legitimate and that wasn’t exactly a popular idea among some of his business associates. He’d learned how to keep an eye on his surroundings. Which was why he noticed the three guys wearing hideous, off-the-rack suits enter the bar only a few seconds after Diaz did.
Buck froze. He looked down at his drink as he spoke. "What do we do?"
"Nothing," Diaz said.
"I don’t like nothing,” Chim remarked.
"They can’t make a move. They stick out like a sore thumb."
"Um, so do we," Chim said with a glance at Buck.
Buck would not apologize for dressing for success, but Diaz had a point. "Which is why you brought us to a crappy bar," he said, impressed.
"Given I didn’t have a choice in the matter."
Chim snorted and Buck glared at him.
"Okay. But what now?" Buck asked.
Diaz sat back in his chair loose-limbed and relaxed. "Hold tight."
"Hold tight?" Chim stared at Buck while Diaz got up from his seat and left. "Why did he just say hold tight then abandon us?"
"I don’t know. You’re the one who agreed to come to a place where you can’t tell the difference between urine and beer."
The three guys in suits were not subtle. They sat at the bar and kept looking over at them.
"So, who is Diaz?" Buck inquired. "What do you know about him other than Athena’s recommendation?"
Chim took a long swallow of beer much to Buck’s dismay. Great. His right-hand man didn’t know anything about their third wheel.
The man in question reappeared and spoke to one of the bartenders at the end of the bar then slipped him some money. The bartender nodded and Diaz made his way back over to them.
"When I give the signal, we leave."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Chim demanded.
Buck watched, intrigued, as the bartender went over to one of the bikers at the bar and whispered something in his ear. The biker shot a look at the three suits before finishing his beer and walking outside.
“What’s going on?” Buck asked.
It didn’t take long to get an answer. The front door burst open, and a very angry biker made a beeline toward the suits.
"Now." Diaz grabbed Buck by the shoulder, urging him toward the exit.
"What the hell did you do?" Buck hissed.
"Told the bartender that our friends keyed those guys’ Harleys."
"You did what?!" Chim exclaimed.
The bar filled with shouting and the breaking of bar stools as they ran outside.
"I can’t believe you scratched up those biker’s Harleys. Like, that’s inspired," Chim said from the front passenger seat, absolutely giddy.
Inspired? More like ballsy. Between the alcohol and adrenaline, Buck felt the blood rush in his ears, his body tingling with want. He kept brushing his knee against Diaz’s leg.
Instead of ignoring him, Diaz gave Buck a long once over, his lips twisting into an appreciative grin. "Well, it’s always better to have other people do the dirty work for you."
Buck swallowed. It’d been a while since he’d engaged in verbal wordplay and innuendo.
"It’s safe to say that I’d like to retain your services for the foreseeable future," Chim said.
Diaz shifted in his seat. "I usually work multiple jobs."
Chim was not deterred. "We can renegotiate your rate to compensate for working for a single employer."
"As long as Mr. Buckley is fine with the arrangement."
"Under one condition," Buck told him.
"Oh, yeah? What’s that?" Diaz asked.
God, could those eyes be a darker shade of brown?
"You call me Buck. Mr. Buckley makes me think of my dad and I never want to think of my father when we’re talking."
Diaz smirked. "Copy that."
"And I want to call you by your first name."
"It’s Eddie."
Eddie. Buck liked the sound of that.
Chim had given Buck an annoyed glance in the rear-view mirror when he didn’t get out of the car after they arrived home. "I’ll update your uncle about today."
"Be sure to include that I reached a deal with Gallo. No need to have what-ifs cloud what was actually accomplished."
"Uh-huh."
Chim and Lucy exited the car, and just like that, Buck was alone with his new security detail, neither of them making a move to leave.
"So, Eddie. What’s your story?"
"I’m not much of a storyteller."
"A man of few words." Buck placed a hand on Eddie’s knee. "Maybe more a man of action?"
"You really are used to getting whatever you want, huh?"
"A person in my position usually does." Buck kept his hand on Eddie’s leg, ready to remove it upon request. But Eddie didn’t react, and doubt started to set in. "Did I, um, misread you? I usually have very good radar."
"Your radar’s just fine. I’m allowed to window shop."
Buck inched his hand up Eddie’s inner thigh. "Do you like what you see?"
Eddie licked his lips and something hot and dark flashed in those eyes of his, the first real crack to his cool facade. "I like what I see a lot," he said, his voice low and throaty.
That sultry tone sent Buck places. The great thing about the luxury version of this SUV was it had more room to maneuver. It only took a second before he straddled Eddie’s legs, his breathing increasing in time with his heart.
He was already aroused, something that couldn’t go unnoticed by the way he sat in Eddie’s lap. Buck braced his hand on Eddie’s shoulders, digging his fingers into his leather jacket. "I like what I see, too."
"The thing about window shopping though," Eddie said with that purr to his voice. "Is that you’re not obligated to buy."
"What about sampling?"
Buck pressed his lips to Eddie’s, kissing lightly, waiting, seeing if it would be reciprocated. Eddie opened his mouth, his tongue tracing the outline of Buck’s lips, then slipping inside for a deeper kiss.
Buck slid his hands under the leather jacket, his fingers tracing the muscle of Eddie’s chest.
He kissed Eddie hard and dirty, no hesitation and no regret, desire pumping through his veins.
And just when things kicked up an octave and Buck was reaching for Eddie’s belt, Eddie pulled away, brown eyes boring into his soul. "Thank you for the sample…," he said breathless.
It took a second before Buck’s brain caught up to the weight of Eddie’s words. He stared at him confused. "Wait...I.... Um...didn’t you like it?"
"I did, but I’m still just window shopping. For now."
He was lying. Buck adjusted his weight on Eddie’s lap watching Eddie take a shuddery breath with the shift. Buck leaned closer, whispering, "Are you sure you don’t want more?"
"When the time’s right."
Normally, Buck would be pissed at the rejection. It was obvious it wasn’t a lack of desire. But Eddie had put on the brakes for a reason. Fine. Buck enjoyed a challenge. "I suppose some things are worth waiting for."
And because Buck always liked having the last word, he opened the door and crawled over Eddie until he was outside. "I have a meeting tomorrow afternoon. Be here at noon sharp."
"Am I just supposed to take an Uber home?"
"You seem like a resourceful guy, I’m sure you’ll find a way."
It’d been a long time since Buck had taken a cold shower and gone to bed alone when he hadn’t expected it. He would have stayed up and spiraled out all night if he hadn’t fallen asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.
The next morning, Buck wandered inside his kitchen in search of his morning cup of coffee. Chim was already sitting at the table reading a newspaper. "Your uncle wants you to update the security at home."
"I live in a gated community. There’s another electronic gate around the house, and like…six cameras. And a dog."
"Do I need to repeat myself?"
Buck sat heavily at his kitchen bar. "I’m not going to live like a prisoner."
Chim flipped to the next page of his paper without looking up at him. "Prisoners have locks they can’t open and guards to keep them inside."
"We don’t even know if those guys were going to hurt me."
"Maybe next time we’ll wait to find out?"
Buck didn’t get it. His family’s operations were small in comparison to everyone else, totaling maybe five million in assets. It wasn’t small potatoes, but it also wasn’t a blip on anyone’s radar. He couldn’t even afford to keep many cops on the payroll.
"I’ll ask Diaz to help, unless you’ve…."
Buck crossed his arms over his chest. "I’ve what?"
"Don’t play games with me, Buck."
"I asked Eddie to be here at noon. To have my back."
"Hmmm."
"And not to sound like a broken record, but do we have a bio on the guy you’re asking to consult on internal security?"
Chim opened a file in front of him, sliding over an obviously redacted sheet. Buck took the report and scanned it. "There’s more blacked-out marker than there are words."
But there was enough. A military transcript. Staff Sergeant in the Army. Recommendations. A Silver Star, two Purple Hearts.
"This is nice, but um, it’s not like he was a SEAL or a Green Beret."
"We can’t afford those. He’s got a lot of impressive recommendations from previous employers."
"Why isn’t there anything after his time in the Army?" The eight-year gap was loud.
"Probably doing whatever was needed to be in his line of work. Do I need remind you that Athena-"
"Yeah, yeah. I know."
He trusted Athena, but Buck hadn’t gotten as far as he had without doing his homework. He wanted, no, needed to know about Eddie. The whole I have a mysterious past thing caught his attention, maybe even stirred his libido, but Buck wasn’t fond of being in the dark. Not about someone who was going to literally be glued to his side for the time-being.
Eddie arrived ten minutes early wearing a slate-gray denim shirt with a dark canvass jacket. The style suited him, a salt of the Earth vibe.
"You carrying after last night?" Chim asked.
"I felt it was warranted, but in my personal experience, drawing a weapon is rarely required."
"But you have? Drawn your weapon before in your line of work?" Buck asked.
"In both my lines of work I’ve used my weapon when needed."
Someone knew Buck had done his homework. Interesting.
"Is it your assessment that Buck should be taking his safety a little more seriously?" Chim asked.
Eddie glanced at Chim and then at Buck, but he stood firm. "I don't have enough info to draw a conclusion."
It seemed Eddie didn’t cave to pressure, a rare quality in a world ruled by popular influence.
Buck clapped his hands together. "While you two debate the merits of shooting people, I have another meeting to get ready for."
"More property negotiations?" Eddie asked.
"I’m investing in a brewery."
It was nice to see Mr. Stoic’s face crack in confusion.
For some reason, even the notion of wearing a pastel suit struck fear into the hearts of some men. As if the mere thought of subtly bright colors would somehow emasculate their entire identities. Far from it, Buck knew pastel toned suits presented a man bristling with confidence and creativity. Buck donned his sky-blue blazer for today’s business.
When Eddie met him in the car park to escort him into the SUV, he raised an eyebrow in appreciation. Buck grinned. He knew the man had good taste.
While they drove downtown, Buck wondered what Eddie would like in blush pink or subtle eggshell tones.
"You’re buying a failing brewery for tax purposes?" Eddie said, not hiding his skepticism.
It was the first real hint to his personality. Eddie Diaz was not impressed by Buck’s financial prowess. Seemed fair, but Buck was good at it and he enjoyed showing it off. "For a tax write-off to be precise."
"Why?"
"Because the lovely Mr. and Mrs. Grimms would rather not lose their house and I need a business that doesn’t make money to balance all the businesses that do make money at the end of the year."
"Buck’s kind of a math geek," Chim said from where he sat up front.
"I noticed you didn’t undercut them," Eddi said off-handedly.
"How’s that?" Buck asked curiously.
Eddie shrugged. "You gave them more than they owed. You didn’t have to; you could have just given them exactly what the bank needed."
"I’m a businessman, not a ball breaker." It was nice to know Eddie paid attention when he talked, even when it looked like his attention was focused elsewhere. "Enough about me, tell me about you."
Lucy snickered before taking a sharp right turn. Chim just muttered where he sat.
"Not much to tell."
"Strong silent type, huh?"
Eddie’s answer was to look out the window. Buck would not be deterred. Most people were either scared of him because of the Buckley name or sneered at him behind his back. And those under his employment asked how high when Buck told them to jump.
The fact that Eddie seemed so indifferent was alluring. Buck didn’t hide how much he was checking Eddie out, enjoying the way he sat with his legs splayed out, his jeans hugging his well-muscled thighs, his gun holster barely visible from under his shoulder.
"It’s awfully quiet back there," Chim said.
"Aww, you know, just doing a little…window shopping," Buck told him.
Eddie’s body stiffened as his hands curled into fists. Oh, not so stoic after all.
"I’m hungry," Buck said. "Are you hungry?" He didn’t wait for Eddie to reply. "Let’s get some Thai."
"I thought the plan was to limit the number of outings we were taking?" Chim asked.
"It’s five minutes from the house."
Buck got his way most of the time. He wanted alone time with his new employee, and everyone needed to eat. He sent Chim and Lucy to reluctantly grab food at the brew house next door while he and Eddie went for Thai.
People milled outside with their buzzers waiting to be called when a table was ready.
Eddie glanced at the giant aquarium in the waiting area totally unimpressed, tapping the glass lightly with his knuckles. He hugged the walls and crossed his arms to stay out of the way of the busy staff. Courteous and alert. "Isn’t this the place booked weeks in advance?"
"It is." Buck stood near the hostess area until he caught the attention of the front-end manager who quickly came over.
"Good to see you again, Mr. Buckley. I’ll have a table ready for you in just a minute."
Eddie looked far from impressed while those who had been waiting for a long time glared at Buck.
It only took a moment before they were escorted to the back where the wait staff finished pulling together a table and chairs.
Eddie raised an eyebrow. "They just made us a spot?"
"What can I say, membership has its privileges."
"You have to be a member here?"
"No. I just thought, you know. It, um, sounded catchy."
Eddie cracked a smile as he sat down. "That’s the most normal thing I’ve heard you say."
"Who says I’m not normal?"
As soon as the words left his mouth a waiter hurried over with a bottle of wine. "A class of Roulot Bourgogne Blanc, sir?"
Eddie sat back in his chair with a smirk, looking very pleased with himself at being proven right. The man had a million different expressions. Buck waved at the waiter with the poor timing, who poured him a glass.
Eddie held up his hand, politely declining.
"Let me guess, no drinking on the job."
"Something like that."
"You need to relax."
"I think you’re doing enough for both of us."
Buck swirled his wine before taking a sip while Eddie traced his finger over the wallpaper "Do you own this place, too?"
"No."
"Providing protection?"
Buck furrowed his brow. "Against what?"
"I don’t know, other people."
"No again."
"Is it a front?"
Buck couldn't help chuckling. "It’s just a restaurant."
"With special memberships."
Buck sighed. "I helped them with a supply-chain issue last month."
"Supply-chain?"
"It’s not code. A lot of families who immigrate to the U.S get involved in local syndicates for loans and building material. Believe it or not, the local food supply chain is run by the same three families for most Thai restaurants."
Buck could tell that Eddie was intrigued by the way his eyebrows raised in curiosity. It was a nice change of pace to have someone genuinely interested in what he had to say. "The owner worked for twelve years to finally open this place; it wasn’t fair that he was paying a thirty percent up charge on top of soaring food costs."
"So, you…?"
"I negotiated contracts for reputable food suppliers and when the old ones tried sending hired thugs to rough up Niran and his family…,” Buck swirled his glass of wine. “Let’s just say some of my people were waiting."
"Evan Buckley, benevolent Godfather."
Buck rolled his eyes. "It's your turn."
"My turn?"
"Tell me something about yourself."
"What do you want to know?"
What he’d look like spread out on Buck’s bed. He licked his lips. "I dunno."
"I love tamales, my favorite color is green, and I’m deadly to house plants." Eddie sat back, pursing his lips in thought "Now, I’ve got a real question for you."
"Go for it."
"I need to know more about these threats against you. When I first took this job, it was to provide protection during a high-stakes meeting. Then we followed. If this is going to be long-term, I need to know more."
"Would you like that?" Buck stared at him, trying to sound neutral. "If this was long term?"
"I’d like to be able to do my job, which is to protect you."
Buck waved over their waiter. "Could I have a bottle of your…"
He studied Eddie, deciding what type of wine he might enjoy, then looked down at the menu, humming when he got down to the description that best fit the man before him.
Viña El Pison is a single vineyard wine with fine fruit, both complex and delicate seasoned nuances. This is a wine with surprising expressivity; with a natural elegance that provokes deep and changing feelings.
Buck grinned. "Let me have the 2011 Red Viña El Pison."
"Right away, sir."
"You think you’ve got my number, huh?" Eddie asked.
"No, but I know you want everyone to think this is the real you. We hide behind something, don’t we?"
"You know snipers blend into their environment, camouflage to match their surroundings. While others use bright colors and loud personalities to distract and distort what they don’t want others to see."
Buck bit his bottom lip at being sized up that quickly. Eddie was watching him, gauging his reaction.
Well, Buck could one-up him. "I tell you what, why don’t we discuss this more at my place. You'll technically be off duty since you don’t need to escort me anywhere. We can enjoy this fine bottle of Viña El Pison and I’ll fill you in on all the exploits of one Evan Buckley."
"You don’t believe there is a real threat, do you?"
Buck’s phone vibrated and he paused, reaching for it. Eddie had him pegged fairly quickly; Buck didn’t believe his life was in danger.
But Chim had insisted on having more protection, then his uncle piled on, and now with Eddie in the picture….
He glanced down at a text from Chim. Let’s go Romeo.
"Do I have anything scheduled tomorrow?" Buck asked.
"Check your phone," Chim told him.
"I’m asking you." Because if Buck had his way, he was going to have a very late night.
"You have a mediation on the books in the afternoon."
Buck grimaced internally; he wasn’t looking forward to that. Chim must have sensed his displeasure. "It’s been hell wrangling the parties together for that, but I could—"
"I think we’re being tailed."
It took a second for Buck’s brain to register what Eddie said so calmly. "What?" Buck’s heart rate shot up and he started to twist his head—
"Don’t turn around." Buck did what he was told; Eddie directing his next words up front. "Lucy, I want you to stay in the left lane and once we pass the light, turn right onto Plymouth. Don’t merge into the lane, just cut across."
Another ballsy move.
"Won’t that show our hand?" Chim asked.
"That’s if we’re being followed," Buck countered.
Although with every passing second, he wondered if he’d been stupidly naive.
"We’ll find out in just a second," Lucy predicted.
The light changed and she cut across lanes to blaring car horns and screeching tires. Buck dug his fingers into the door handle.
A black sedan changed lanes abruptly, a truck rear-ending the vehicle a moment later.
"Shit." Chim turned in his seat. "Well, I think that answers that."
Buck watched as two men exited the sedan, one of them going toward the driver of the car who hit them, the other pulling out his cellphone.
In three minutes, they were home. Buck stared at the bottle of wine, the reason for drinking it having completely changed.
He paced inside his living room. There were people after him. Fuck. Who though? Buck didn’t even know where to start. He’d read about hit jobs. Garrotes to the neck. Drive-by shootings. Bombs.
"Buck."
He would become a prisoner in his own home. Wouldn’t even be able to go outside. There were snipers. Hell, there were drones.
"Buck."
"What?" he snapped.
Chim rested his hands on Buck’s shoulders. "Breathe."
"I am."
"In through your mouth and out through your nose, like your therapist taught you. Remember?"
"Yeah, yeah." Closing his eyes, Buck did several rounds of fours. Breathing in for seven seconds. Breathing out for seven. Over and over until his shoulders began to relax and his jaw started to unclench.
"There you go," Chim soothed.
It took a few minutes, but the world started to focus again. When he opened his eyes again, Buck was sitting on the edge of his sofa. "I’m...I’m all right." He adjusted his sleeves, smoothed out his shirt, clearing his throat, embarrassed at the rare outburst.
It’d been a while since his thoughts had spiraled like that. A glass of water was put in his hand. Buck drank it, the coolness helping ground him further. When he looked back up at Chim, he noticed Eddie writing something in a notebook.
"What’s he doing?"
"I think writing a supply list?"
Eddie walked over at that exact moment. "Here’s what we need. Do you think you could have it by the morning?"
Chim took the piece of paper and scanned it. "Maybe? I could send Lucy out to grab this stuff."
"I’ll add places she can go."
"You could email me—"
"No," Eddie said gruff, stepping closer to Chim. "No electronic correspondence. Just pad and paper."
"O-kay."
Buck took the list and read it. Movement-detecting security lights, pressure door mats, Wi-Fi cameras with night vision. All very high-end security items. But the last thing on the list puzzled him. "What’s a Faraday bag?"
Eddie looked out the sliding glass doors leading out onto the patio, scribbling in a little notepad, eyes narrowed like he was calculating distance and angles. Buck was about to repeat the question when Eddie turned on his heel and started speaking. “Cell phones emit radio waves that can reveal your location. Same goes with credit cards, passports, and driving licenses.”
"Yeah, they’ve got these embedded radio frequency identification chips."
Eddie smiled at him in surprise, his eyes bright, like he was pleased he didn't have to explain further. "Exactly. Faraday’s just a brand name. It’s a bag with signal-blocking technology. It keeps phones, key rings, and credit cards safe."
"Did we just hire James Bond?" Chim asked.
"No, these are sound good." Buck liked having something to focus on. He looked over at Eddie and his gritty attitude and exterior. "You didn’t strike me someone into geeky high-tech."
Eddie wrinkled his nose. "I’m not. Do you know how much privacy we give-up in exchange for one-step shopping and convenience? One day we’re going to wake up to find the world taken over by robots and talking computers. In the meantime, though, we’ve got to use tech to fight tech."
Chim shared a long okay someone’s a little paranoid look with Buck. Eddie didn’t seem to notice, too busy checking his watch and nodding to himself like he was solving a puzzle. "Okay. I’ll come back in the morning and help with—"
"Wait. You’re not. Um, not leaving, are you?"
Eddie stuffed his notepad into his jacket pocket, unconcerned. "Your home security measures are solid."
"I’d prefer it if you would stay," Buck tried and failed to keep the trepidation out of his voice. "We can pay you whatever rate—"
"It’s fine," Eddie’s expression softened as he seemed to take in Buck’s agitation. "We can discuss terms later. But if you’d like me to remain here overnight—"
"Yes. Please."
Eddie rested a hand on Buck’s bicep, his voice steady and reassuring. "I’ll stay however long you need. Right now, I think you’re under surveillance. I don’t perceive a high-threat level. This could just be intimidation or intel gathering. But whatever the reason, we’ll get to the bottom of it. In the meantime, I’ll remain attached as your security detail.”
The fingers of anxiety around Buck’s heart eased at Eddie’s words, his logic grounding his spiraling thoughts. “Yeah, okay. You’re, um, right. Of course. There’s been no overt threats."
"Exactly. But we need to do our due diligence." Eddie turned his attention to Chim. "Can you get a list together of current volatile business dealings, maybe those involving disgruntled parties, or a huge loss of money? Say in the last six months."
"Yeah, I can do that. But it’s going to be a long list." Chim nodded at Buck. "Since Eddie’s staying, I’ll head out."
"Thanks. See you, tomorrow," Buck told him.
Eddie let go of Buck’s arm and he instantly hated it. Playing with his cuffs again, Buck focused on his breathing, listening to the sounds of his house, his sanctuary, while Eddie spoke to Chim off to the side.
He didn’t hear what they were saying, but he caught Chim’s, "He’s really rattled," and Eddie’s. "I’ll take care of it."
Buck cleared his throat, straightening his back before walking up to Eddie. "I’m, um, good now."
"It’s okay if you’re not."
"I can’t...you know, get distracted like that. I’m in charge."
"People in charge are allowed to have a moment. It’s better to freak out than to try to keep it all inside. If you don’t express fear, you won’t be able to overcome it."
Buck snorted. "Let me guess, personal experience?" When was the last time Mr. Suave had a meltdown?
Eddie narrowed his eyes, his mouth thinning, his spine ramrod straight. "I’ve been scared to death on several occasions. Fucked up, too."
There. A flash of something. Fear. Anger. Eddie swallowed, and he eyes took on a faraway look, the kind where an obtrusive memory or thought takes a hold of you.
His nostrils flared, but the he cleared his throat and shook his head like he was clearing the cobwebs. Wherever Eddie went inside his head only lasted a few seconds, his dark expression disappearing behind an aura of Zen-like cool. "Why don’t you give me a tour of this place. I want to walk the whole layout. Get to know it inside and out."
"I’ll show you everything you need. The security system is actually pretty top notch."
Eddie smiled at him. "I wouldn’t expect anything less."
Comments are always appreciated and help inspire The Muse :)
Link on Tumblr.