“Yeah. Two weeks ago. According to Jude’s guy, he left the club without incident. I spoke to him yesterday. You know, Flynn. Elle Delacroix’s bodyguard. He said Sanchuk didn’t give him any push-back. It didn’t seem like a problem. Summer told Flynn, that night, that Sanchuk had been offering meth to her girlfriends. But she didn’t say anything else. She never told anyone what was going on. Seems like no one on Jude’s crew knew it went any further than that.”
“You think this has anything to do with the Kings?” Naveen asked, voicing the question running through my head. “Jude’s a King. His brother is the Kings’ VP… Maybe there’s some connection.”
Fuck, I hoped not.
“Not on her part, I don’t think. But this situation feels like it’s getting messier by the second.”
“Yeah. Could be MC bullshit,” Naveen said. “Territorial rights? Pissing match? Payback for some perceived wrongdoing? Maybe the Sinners were targeting Jude’s crew in general… that extended to Summer somehow?”
“I think it’s a stretch. There’d be much closer targets if they were trying to get Jude’s attention.”
“But maybe none who were as easy to get to?”
“Maybe.” Christ, I did not like that idea. “Either way, I’ll have to run it by Jude.”
“Let me know how it goes.”
“Will do.”
“So,” he said. “We gonna address the weird-ass elephant in the room?”
“And that would be…?” I sat back in my chair, prepared for what was coming.
“You have anyone in mind to take over for you in the field? You could be running this job from the office. You know, where you planned to be for the rest of your career?”
He wasn’t wrong. For many months, I’d been griping about bringing my last, lingering, fucking annoying bodyguard assignment to an end.
Obviously this sudden change in my MO had stoked my partner’s curiosity.
Plus, he probably wanted to rub it in. Naveen had never believed for a second that I was actually “retiring.”
“No need,” I told him. “I’m staying where I am for now.”
“Uh-huh.” He went silent a moment, and I knew I wasn’t gonna like this. “You know, you’ve been working around the clock on this DJ Summer thing. Pardon my observation, but you seem to be taking this one on a little more… personally… than usual. Less than forty-eight hours ago, you were right here in my living room, hellbent on never playing bodyguard again. To anyone. Much less the ‘spoiled famous princesses’ of the world. I realize you were referring to your last assignment, and she really was a princess. But you were pretty vehement on that point.”
“A man can make an exception.”
“Right. I saw photos of your new client online. Pretty compelling reason to make an exception, I’ll give you that, but—”
“That’s not what this is about.”
“No? You sure?”
“Did your wife put you up to this? She’s that hot to fix me up, huh?”
“Speaking of which. How’d things go with Roshana the other night? You hit it off?”
Fuck me. He knew we didn’t.
By now, Tamara would’ve called her friend to get the scoop, and Roshana probably told her every detail of how I’d dropped her off and evaded her good night kiss. Probably made me sound like a heartless asshole.
Women talked about that shit, right?
And anyway, I was a heartless asshole.
“Maybe you could tell your wife to give up on me. I’m a lost cause.”
“So you’re not interested in DJ Summer?”
“I’m interested in protecting my client,” I said icily.
Had I really been acting that unusual? Enough to make Naveen think I’d lost my shit and fallen in love overnight?
“I’m just saying. You don’t usually get so personal with clients.”
“It’s not personal. I just want to do the job right.”
“I get that. But there’s a chance you go overboard like this,” he pressed. “And I feel I’d be remiss not to mention it right out of the gate.”
I knew what he was getting at. But just because I’d once gone a little “overboard” on a job that bore a few similarities to this one didn’t mean it was happening again.
That was years ago. This was now.
“I’m not going overboard. And the guys can fill in when I need coverage.”
“Yeah, but that only works if you actually call them in. I noticed you haven’t assigned anyone to rotate in. Have you changed since you started this detail? Or are you still wearing the same clothes you left my house in the other night?”
What a fucking dick.
He knew me way too well.
“I’ve changed,” I informed him. Luckily, one of the guys had picked up some workout clothes I’d left here at the office and dropped them off to me last night. Otherwise, he’d be right. “And for the record, I’m at the office right now. Taking care of some things for you, for this week and beyond.”
“So you’re really staying on Summer for the foreseeable?”
“Looks that way.”
“May I ask why? If it’s not her, then what is it?”
“I don’t know. Something just feels… off.” I tried to put my finger on it, but so far, I hadn’t been able to. “I can’t quantify it. It’s a feeling.”
“What kind of feeling?” Naveen was more than accustomed to me and my unquantifiable gut feelings about things.
We both had them, after so many years on the job.
“I don’t know. This Sanchuk creep… you’re sure he hasn’t made another move in her direction? Nothing?”
“Nope. Other than the Sinners’ clubhouse, he’s barely left his shit hole apartment except to hit the grocery store.”
“Alright. Just keep me posted.”
“Will do. Try to take a break today at some point. Hit the gym or something. Andre’s been up my ass, griping about more hours. Put him to work.”
“Yeah. I’ll do that.”
Maybe.
We signed off, and as soon as I’d hung up, I bit the bullet and dialed Jude.
I knew I had to call him on this asap, given the MC connection, and anyway, I’d promised him updates. He was still in Australia right now, which meant it was probably…
