Daddy’s Law by K.C. Crowne
Chapter 8
Theo
The trick to keep from going stir crazy was following a strict routine. Without the usual rhythm of work to keep me occupied, and Cory spending his weekdays in school and promptly locking himself in his room once he got home, like he was now, I made sure to go through a rigorous list of chores.
I worked out in my home gym for two hours. I took out the garbage. Did the dishes. Made the beds. Dusted every visible surface I could reach —which was pretty much everything— followed by a jog around the neighborhood to get the blood pumping. An uncompromising regimen is what kept me sane and in peak condition when I was still in the Army. I figured it would help me adjust to life at home.
I was bored out of my mind a week and a half in.
It wouldn’t be so bad if Cory needed taking care of. There was something nice about the idea of someone needing me. But he was growing up far too quickly and right before my eyes. No matter what I did, the distance between us kept growing. He had his mother’s independent spirit, which I was both proud and somewhat resentful of.
I missed taking care of him the way I used to. I missed tucking him into bed and reading him his bedtime stories. I missed waking him up in the mornings and surprising him with waffles for breakfast. I missed carrying him on my shoulders and taking him to the park and asking for hugs knowing I’d always receive one.
And now I was all alone, puttering around a house I’d bought for my wife so that we could start a huge family. I wasn’t a superstitious man, but I swore to God that sometimes the halls felt haunted, weighed down by memories and promises of what could have been.
So, I was thankful as fuck when my phone rang, Jesse’s name popping up on the caller ID.
“Phillips, my man,” he said with a chuckle. “How’ve you been?”
“Good,” I lied. “You got a job for me?”
“As a matter of fact, I do, but I can totally give it to one of the other guys if you want more time off. It’s a light case, nothing too strenuous. Just day shifts. You’d be home in time to take care of Cory.”
Curiosity got the better of me. “Previous client?”
“Duncan Cruise just called. That man you apprehended at the fundraiser, Michael Santos? He made bail.”
“How the fuck did he manage that?”
“Beats me. Point is, his parole officer’s keeping tabs on the bastard, but the senator’s convinced it’s a matter of time before he comes back to finish what he started.”
“So you want me on his security detail again?”
“No. His daughter. He’s concerned about her safety.”
“His daughter?” I echoed.
“Yeah, her name’s—” I could hear the crinkle of paper as Jesse flipped through a personnel file, “—Ava Cruise.”
No fucking way.
I was vaguely aware that he was still talking, but my brain officially fried itself. There was no way this was the same person. It had to be a coincidence. The world wasn’t that small. Cruise was a pretty popular last name. Tom Cruise, Penelope Cruz… Okay. So maybe I couldn’t name that many, but I didn’t think about it hard enough to put two and two together.
“Is she by any chance a teacher?” I asked gruffly.
“Uh, yes, actually. She teaches art at—”
“Willingham Academy.”
“Doesn’t Cory go there? Do you know her?”
“We’ve met.” Gears turned in the back of my mind, something clicking into place. “Is she in danger? How serious is this?”
“To be honest, I can’t be sure. The guy’s been pretty good about checking in regularly. There doesn’t seem to be any indication that he might try to harm Cruise again. It’s just a precautionary measure. Mr. Cruise asked for you himself. Said he’d trust no one else to protect his daughter.”
I mulled things over. Talk about a turn of events. I took a second to think about it logically, weighing the pros and cons.
The pros were that it’d be an easy job. Day shifts meant I could come home and be with Cory. It was good pay —Pegasus Star Security was one of the leading security firms in all of Chicago— so I could continue to add to Cory’s trust fund. There was also the added bonus that I’d finally have something productive to do during the day. Security detail killed time a lot faster than household chores. Not to mention she’d be at work most of the time, so I’d most likely be catching up on the latest Tom Clancy novels.
The cons…
There was really only one con, and that was Miss Cruise probably didn’t like me very much. It was always the principals with attitude and a mind of their own that made my job difficult. The fire in her eyes told me everything I needed to know about what type of client she’d be. Accepting the job would be more trouble than it was worth.
“When would I start?”
“Tomorrow. Although Mr. Cruise just reached out to say that his daughter stormed off before he could tell her he was hiring a bodyguard, so you’ll need to retrieve her if you accept.”
Ah. Looks like trouble’s starting early.
“I’ll take the job. Where can I find her?”
“Hang on. Let me just grab my crystal ball and—”
I ended the call and pocketed my phone, glancing briefly at my wristwatch. It was 9:00pm. I walked down to Cory’s room and knocked on his door. I knew he was awake because his light was still on, the glow spilling around the frame.
“Yes?” he called.
I opened it a couple of inches. He was in bed, sketching something by lamplight. “Hey, buddy. Isn’t it past your bedtime?”
“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I just had an idea I wanted to get down first. Is that okay?”
I nodded. “That’s fine. Just don’t stay up too long.”
“Who were you on the phone with?”
“Uncle Jesse. He’s got a job for me.”
Cory frowned. “Are you leaving?” His voice was tight with concern. “I don’t want to stay at Mrs. Thompson’s anymore. She makes me watch those boring black and white TV shows.”
I chuckled. “No, buddy. I’m not leaving. I’ll be working days and I’ll be here to pick you up after school.”
My son’s shoulders relaxed. “Oh. That’s good. Mrs. Thompson smells like mothballs.”
“Cory, that’s rude,” I said to him, giving him what I hoped was a dad look.
“Sorry,” he mumbled.
“I have to run a quick errand tonight, though,” I explained quickly. “Would you be alright if I had her come over just for a couple of hours?”
“Really?”
I nodded. “I promise it’s only for a couple hours.”
Cory groaned. “Fine.”
“Sorry buddy.”
“What’s the errand?”
“Just picking up a package. Shouldn’t take me too long. I’ll be back soon.”
“Okay. Night, Dad.”
I smiled. “Night, buddy. I love you.”
“Love you, too,” he mumbled softly before returning to his sketchpad.
I closed his door gently and headed back downstairs, texting Mrs. Thompson and waiting for her to arrive. Once she got there, I pulled on my leather jacket and boots at the front door. Slipping back into bodyguard mode came as easily to me as breathing. Time was of the essence. I trusted Jesse to send me Ava’s file as soon as possible, but I was on my own until then. Even though we didn’t have any concrete proof that harm was imminent, I had to treat this as a code red.
Jesse said she stormed off after speaking with her father. The conversation must have gone south. Ava was out there somewhere, a target on her back. I needed to get to her before someone else could. In order to do that, I needed to imagine myself in her shoes.
If I were a young woman on a teacher’s salary who just had an argument with her father, I’d go somewhere to destress. Vent to a friend. Throw back a couple of beers. There were only a handful of restaurants in the area that were still open past nine in the evening, the majority of them bars.
It wasn’t much, but it was a start.
I fired up the Ducati and hit the road. I’d bring Ava home, explain the situation to her, and be back well before Cory woke up to cook him breakfast.
Talk about work-life balance.