Daddy’s Law by K.C. Crowne

Chapter 2

Theo

Ipreferred not to get chatty with my clients. Making small talk was not a part of my job description. I was here in a security capacity, not to entertain my clients with discussions about the weather.

Nevertheless, here I was. Stuck in the district attorney’s office, shaking his hand.

His sweaty, beefy hand.

We were in his stuffy corner office. Books and awards and boxes full of important files scattered everywhere. The curtains were closed even though I’d given the state senator permission to open them again. Now that his radical stalker was behind bars, the chances he’d be shot through his windows were slim.

Unlikely, but never zero.

“I can’t thank you enough,” Duncan said with a practiced smile.

I nodded curtly. “All in a day’s work, sir.”

The man waved a dismissive hand. His files indicated that he was the same age as me, though he certainly looked much older. It must have been the stress of the job because he was almost entirely bald. He was a lot shorter, too, with a beer gut hidden beneath his pressed dress shirt and blue tie.

“Don’t sell yourself short,” he chided, his voice much lighter than one would expect for someone of his size. “You saved my life, Theo. I’ll forever be grateful. Who would have thought that son of a bitch would try to get to me at a fundraiser?”

“Desperate people do desperate things, sir.”

Duncan chuckled. “Yes, Santos was desperate. I suppose threatening to prosecute him might have had something to do with it. Good thing you tackled him before he could get to me.”

I didn’t know how to respond. I was just doing my job. I’d been placed on the senator’s security detail for two months, since he started receiving all manner of threats from Michael Santos, whose reason for hating the senator was somewhat unclear.

Bodily harm, death threats, blackmail…

You know, the usual.

And it all came to a head at a charity fundraiser for the children’s hospital. It was a black-tie event, so it was easy to distinguish the attacker by his casual attire and the general hatred in his eyes. I neutralized the threat before anyone even spotted him. With the assailant behind bars awaiting trial and the senator’s well-being officially secure, my contract was now complete.

“I wanted to give you this as a token of my appreciation,” he said, opening the top drawer of his desk to pull out a large bottle of whisky.

I wasn’t much of a drinker, but I knew it was one of those really pricey bottles Cassandra always talked about adding to our little drink cart. She didn’t drink that much, either, but my wife loved to host dinner parties. Making sure that the conversation was merry, and everyone’s glasses were full always brought her joy.

“Thank you, sir,” I said, taking the bottle even though I knew it would go unopened.

“I’ll be calling your boss later to give Pegasus Star Security a stellar review. You and your team have really impressed me. I’ll definitely be calling on you boys the next time my life’s threatened.”

“Hopefully that won’t be too soon.”

Duncan chuckled, clapping me on the shoulder. “Happy trails, kid.”

I gave him a stiff smile and left, finding it mildly ironic that he’d refer to me as a kid when we were practically the same age.

* * *

I parked my Ducati in my designated space out in the parking lot before heading inside. I walked briskly up the steps toward Jesse’s office on the second floor, overlooking the bullpen where the administrative employees were gathered at their desks. There was a whole lot more to the private security business than met the eye.

Scheduling appointments, determining secure routes, making sure payroll was processed on time. I nodded to a couple of my colleagues respectfully. Most of the other bodyguards didn’t try to remember their names —bogged down by their egos— but I knew that they were just as important to the team as anyone. Everyone had a role to fill. Everyone was an invaluable member of the team. In my line of work, being one of those hotshot asshole lone wolves was the fastest way to getting seriously hurt or killed.

Or worse: getting the client killed.

Jesse waved me into his office with a smile. He looked stiff in his navy-blue suit, yet somehow breezy and casual at the same time. Maybe it was the way he stood with a carefree lean, one hand in his pocket while the other combed through his brown hair. He looked good for forty-two, though I would never tell him.

The space was distressingly bare for someone who could afford to hire a decorator. For some reason, Jesse decided that cold, white prison complex was his aesthetic. Exposed concrete walls, white leather furniture, ugly grey carpet. It was a good thing I only ever visited the office before and after contracts because I definitely didn’t want to spend my time in this place.

“There’s the man of the hour,” he announced. “We’ve got a cake with your name on it downstairs in the staff room.”

I grimaced. “Please say you’re joking.”

“Of course I’m joking. I don’t know why you didn’t take care of the guy when you had the chance. Maybe then I would have considered getting you a cake.”

I sat down in his office chair without asking, allowing myself the rare opportunity to relax. “This isn’t like Afghanistan where we were fighting for our lives. Last I checked, we still have laws in America.”

Jesse smirked, something nostalgic ghosting across his features. “Jesus, I was joking.”

“Mm-hmm,” I muttered dryly.

“Sorry, sometimes I forget who I’m talking to. You adjusted a hell of a lot better to civilian life than the rest of the s I hired.”

“I’m lucky I’ve got my son to keep me sane.”

“And I don’t?”

“Your kid’s twenty-one. My boy’s eleven. It’s a different kind of parenting. I can’t look out for him if I’m unhinged. He needs me.”

“Can we trade kids for a day? Maybe you could whip Wally into shape for me.” Jesse walked over to lean against the edge of his desk beside me. “I swear to God, he’s getting really lippy. Gets it from his mother.”

“Isn’t he too old to be giving you attitude?”

“Fuck, right? Twenty-one with his head up his ass and still living in my basement. Can you believe it?”

I shrugged. “Why don’t you just put your foot down?”

“Because then he goes crying to my ex-wife and I have to hear it from her. She’s been nagging me about increasing alimony payments now that the firm’s becoming successful. She calls so often that I’ve been hiding out at work to avoid her.”

“Hiding from your ex? Very manly.”

“Wow, Theo. Thanks for the sympathy.”

“You’re welcome.”

Jesse chuckled. “Well, enough about my brat. How’s your boy doing? I feel like it’s been ages since I saw him last.”

“Good. He’s good.” I smiled slightly. “He’s been begging me to let him stay after school on Wednesdays. There’s some kind of art club with one of his teachers that he really wants to join.”

“Art? Little girly, isn’t it? When I was his age, I was trying out for soccer and football.”

My smile slipped into something far harder. I glared at Jesse, and he immediately shut up. “Don’t push it,” I grumbled.

Jesse put his hands up in mock surrender. “Relax. I was only thinking aloud.”

I stood up, wanting to get back to business. I didn’t like talking about my family if I could help it. It didn’t matter that Jesse and I served together or that he was probably my oldest friend. I believed that work was work, and my personal life was my personal life. And if he was going to start pushing my boundaries and question my boy’s hobbies, then I was going to put a stop to it.

“What’s my next assignment?” I asked.

Jesse put his hands in his pockets. “None at the moment.”

“None?”

“I know. Hard to believe there isn’t some crooked politician who needs protection, but I don’t have any active cases right now. I’ll reach out the second I do.”

“What am I supposed to do in the meantime?”

“Ever heard of taking a break?” he teased. “Take a couple weeks and spend some quality time at home. It’s summer, after all. Enjoy the weather. Actually spend some of that money you earn, for Pete’s sake. You don’t have to spend every waking hour putting your life on the line for others, you know.”

I grunted. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Can you say that again? I want to get a recording.”

I clapped him on the shoulder. “Call me when there’s a contract.”

“Sure. Tell Cory his favorite uncle said hi.”

I smirked at him as I excited the office. “It’s cute you think you’re his favorite uncle.”

Jesse’s mouth dropped. “What?” he gasped. “Did he say something? Please tell me you’re joking.”

I left without another word, holding in my laughter.

Before I climbed onto my motorcycle, I pulled out my phone to check the time.

5:34 p.m.

I was going to be earlier than usual, though I was sure Cory wouldn’t mind being picked up from the babysitter’s. He’d been spending his evenings with Mrs. Thompson across the street from us for the last few weeks. Now that I was no longer needed around the clock for the senator, I would have a lot of extra time to spend with him.

Jesse was right, not that I’d ever say that aloud again.

I stared at my phone’s home screen and smiled. The home screen image was set to a picture of Cassandra, Cory, and me at Disneyland. We’d gone for his ninth birthday. We were all smiles in the picture, complete with matching pairs of mouse ears on our heads.

Cassandra had a nasty sunburn from being out in the sun all day, and I remembered Cory having a terrible sugar crash after getting his paws on every sweet treat we came across. I was mildly grumpy because the Matterhorn wasn’t as thrilling as my wife made it out to be. It took a lot of adrenaline to get my heart pumping, and the rollercoaster failed to deliver.

We’d had a wonderful time, though. A good memory. One of our last with all three of us together. If someone had told me Cassandra wouldn’t make it to the end of the year, I would have savored the day more. I would have cherished every last second I could get.

I put my phone away and started up the Ducati, the engine thundering to life.

Time to go home.