Allan’s lifeless slumping becomes the indicator that the mission is complete.
That Lucy is safe.
That I make the company I work for look good while saving taxpayers’ dollars by not having this psychopath drain resources from the already unstable system he might’ve been sentenced into.
I relinquish my hold on the pitchfork and back up slowly, stare pasted on the corpse just in case I called his death too prematurely. Once it’s safe to declare the threat has been eliminated, I begin my trek back in the direction of the SUV, silently crawling around in my own skin out of desperation to get clean or at the very least into a suit that doesn’t smell like I was an extra in Babe.
Lucy’s expression transposes from one of fear to one of excitement when she sees I’m the only one coming in her direction. Against what I would label to be good judgment, she darts from the vehicle and throws herself into my arms.
“Ohmygod, thank you! Thank you!” She squeaks in equal amounts of gratitude and relief. “Thank you so much, Bradford!” Her arms tangle around my frame in continued hysteria. “You are amazing!”
I use one hand to give her a small pat in the middle of her crop-top-covered back. “Just doing my job, Miss Marks.”
More squeals of elation escape her, although these are incoherent. It takes an understandable amount of time for her to finally pull back so that our stares can meet. She keeps her limbs latched onto to where they are, yet lowers her tone to that of a sultry one. “How about I show you my thanks, Bradford?” Her tongue seductively touches her hot pink-painted lips. “Right here. Right now.”
Even if I were to put aside the fact that I’m covered in another person’s blood, animal filth, and my own sweat, I still wouldn’t take her up on the offer. Not only because she’s barely on this side of being able to legally drink at my favorite resort in Cabo, but because I never sleep with clients.
That’s even worse shit than what’s plastered on me.
And it’s not a gray area.
It’s completely straightforward.
There’s no take it on a “case-by-case” basis.
No… “just this one-time” crap.
And damn sure none of that “if she pays extra” bullshit.
See, rule number one is to always save the target. Your priority is their safety. Whether this means you get a bullet to the brain or have a lobster getting its claws on your ass – still the worst Cinco De Mayo I’ve ever had – doesn’t really matter. You put your life on the line so that they live to sign that last check for the company. At the end of the day, the same thing I respect about the people I work for is the same shit that makes them the heartless corporation that people believe them to be. Jobs aren’t personal. Personal isn’t allowed to factor itself into decisions. Call that subsection A of rule number one. Every call that’s made is so that the company continues to have the hard hold they have on the private sector of many enterprises. They don’t shy away from huge payouts for their employees, nor do they reject convoluted, keep it off the grid, never happened cases. Haworth is one of the largest multifaceted operations globally, and they are willing to do anything to keep it that way. This mindset has led to the off-the-books company tagline that we all live by.
They don’t ask how.
They ask how alive.
In other words?
Do whatever it takes to make sure the final payment can and will be received.
Ruler number two?
Never add complications to a situation that would prevent rule number one from being followed.
Sleeping with a client falls into this category.
Technically less, now that her attacker is dead, but still enough considering I have hours – at a minimum – left to be point on her security detail.
And just so that it’s out there, I’m also not attracted to someone who is almost a decade younger than I am.
No.
Prefer my women like I prefer my tequila.
Envejecido.
Mas maduro.
A bit aged and more mature.
Damn sure not barely able to vote.
Lucy gives the corner of her mouth a hopeful nibble.
The action prompts me to create the currently absent distance at the same time I deny her offer. “No, thank you.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.” Stepping even further back, I tip my head towards the farmhouse. “Let’s get you inside and your injured bodyguard checked on. Did you call for an ambulance, as I instructed?”
She immediately nods, arms wrapping her bare midsection to hold herself since I no longer am. “They should be here any minute. They said fifteen minutes when I placed the call.”
And there’s the drawback to most remote locations.
Also, why the company pays more for those with on-site med training.
Which I have.
There’s just not a lot I can do for a spinal cord injury.
Not exactly a fucking surgeon.
That’d be my oldest brother.
He’s Dr. Bradford to those under his care while I’m just Bradford.
Soldier like treatment for a military like job.
Spotting Lucy’s lingering need for comfort in spite of her best efforts to hide it, I step back into my client’s space and place a hand on the small of her back to physically assist in the escorting to the house. The tiny gesture persuades her to relax her trembling figure once more, so I add a polite smile to seal the deal. With dejection exchanged for relief, I guide us the direction we need to head while keeping a watchful eye on our surroundings.
Instinct says we’re in the clear, but you can never be too careful.
Just because one attacker is down doesn’t mean another can’t unexpectedly come into the picture.
And since the job isn’t done until that final payment is made, I can’t let my guard down or even fucking shower for a bit longer.
It’ll be worth it though.
Seeing that many zeroes in my bank account always is.
Chapter 2
Blake
Sometimes I really love my job.
Especially on days like today.
Days where I literally get to light cheating assholes on fire.
Physically. On. Fire.
It may not have been me he cheated on – I don’t exactly date – and LaKeysha Jones isn’t exactly my best friend – although she is the person at the office that I probably like the most besides Sherman the janitor and my second in command Ali Lu – but she does deserve some form of justice.
Or at least possible justice.
Assuming there’s a flaw in my design.
Then again, even if there’s not, environmental dangers will work just the same.
Dealing with people and the multitude of mind aching complications they bring may not be a skill I’ve mastered; however, I do know that doing terrible things to good people should be punished.