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Chapter Ten

A phone rang, jarring Joe awake. He opened one eye and saw that it was eleven in the morning. It was much later than he usually slept, but he’d been exhausted. Damn, Sam would be here soon, and he needed to get ready.

“Speak.”

“Well, good morning to you too.”

Damn. It was Sam. “Sorry, still a little tired after the last job. Are you still coming over at noon?”

“Yes. I want to know if you’d like me to bring lunch?”

Joe took mental stock of what was in his fridge. He hadn’t gone shopping before he went away, so food was in short supply.

“Sounds good.”

They hung up. Joe got dressed and looked around the living room. One bottle of beer on the table, otherwise the room was a little dusty since he hadn’t been home in a week but still neat as a pin.

He’d arrived home after midnight. After the difficult time he had on this last job, his house provided the serenity he needed.

The movie mogul he’d been guarding kept him up for nights on end, partying and drinking.

Doing drugs when he thought Joe wasn’t looking.

The worst part was that he had been encouraging women to party with Joe—ingénues and others not so innocent.

Joe was tired and dirty. It wasn’t the kind of dirty that you get rolling around on the ground either.

It was the dirt you felt when someone was out of control, their moral compass off-kilter, and you can’t do anything to stop them.

His clothes had reeked of cigarette smoke and alcohol after one cute little ingénue had too much to drink and spilled her rum drink on him.

He had been in such a hurry to get out of there, he hadn’t bothered to change.

Didn’t care if his seatmate on the plane sniffed once and gagged.

And then there was Claire. He needed to touch base with her if she was still around. Needed to see her like plants needed sun to grow.

A couple of minutes before noon, he saw Sam arrive in his security camera. He opened the door, grabbed the sandwich bag from her hand and motioned her in. They got plates from the kitchen and sat in the living room.

“So, this is the Batcave?” Sam said. She smirked.

“Yep.” He let the comment pass. No sense giving her any satisfaction on that. “You said you had another job for me?”

“Yes. But I’m giving you an opportunity to say no. I know how you feel about this type of situation, but I don’t have anyone else right now to protect her except for myself.”

Crap. He hated it when a request started like that.

He let out a heavy sigh. “Just tell me.”

She eyed him and hesitated. “I have an abused woman who will be going through a divorce and…”

“Oh, hell, no.”

“Joe …”

“The last time I guarded a woman running away from her abusive husband, she clung to me the whole time I was with her and hysterically cried whenever I left. Then she stalked me for months.” He rubbed his brow. It was too soon to take on another emotional job.

He sighed. “I get it. I do. But I can’t handle needy women.” He liked women, respected women, cherished women, wanted one in his life someday, but needy women irritated him. And needy stalkers. Ugh.

Then he thought about the other women that his friends had found.

Luke married Grace after she was being stalked.

And Pete had found Julie, and they were expecting their second child.

Then there was Marlee Burns, the fearless, sassy woman his friend Ben Green was marrying.

He had the pleasure of guarding Marlee from a murderer.

She was a hoot, and he’d liked her sassy attitude.

So yes, he liked most women. Just not needy ones.

Sam sat back, let out a deep breath. If she were disappointed, he couldn’t tell. The woman should play poker. Silence.

“I understand.” She nodded to herself. “I did offer you the opportunity to say no.” Sam stood. “Well, listen, I need to go. Let me help you pick up.”

They brought the dishes to the kitchen.

“We didn’t talk about this past job,” she said. “How did it go?”

“Well, it went all right if you discount the parties, alcohol, drugs, and drunks. I don’t know who he is afraid of, but nobody called, threatened or acted weirder than normal.”

“Glad to hear. He’s a good client. His lifestyle choices are not mine to judge, and he pays well. So, he’s a little—well, a lot—paranoid. I’m sure you handled it well.”

Humph. Like he couldn’t tell the guy was paranoid. “Well, I guess if some clients weren’t, we wouldn’t have jobs,” said Joe as he walked her to the door .

“True. Keeps me in business. Okay then, I’m off. See you in the office tomorrow.”

Sam put her hand on the doorknob to open it.

Joe sighed. What was he thinking? Sam took a big chance on him, trusted him, knew his past, knew he had little patience for needy women or men, for that matter, and this was how he repaid her trust?

“Wait.”

Sam stopped and turned.

“I’ll do it,” he said.

She gave him an incredulous stare. “Joe, you don’t have to do this. I know how you feel about guarding people with emotional problems. I don’t want you to feel guilty. I gave you a choice, one that I was comfortable making.” She shrugged her shoulders. “It’s all good.”

“No, it isn’t. I’ll do it. When and where do I meet this woman?”

Sam let out a slow exhale. “Today. Come by Mark’s house in a couple of hours. We’ll fill you in.”

“Is Claire still at Mark’s?” he asked. But Sam had already left. Joe said goodbye to air.

Okaaay then. Hopefully, she was still there and he had another job. Both filled him with trepidation.

He closed the door. What was wrong with him?

He loved his job. It gave him just enough excitement and more than enough alone time.

He knew with confidence that the people he worked with would have his back and vice versa.

But, in his opinion, women generally were more work than men.

Well, except for that movie mogul who was over the edge.

Women tended to be more emotional, and he didn’t do emotions.

Didn’t understand emotions—hated emotions.

Damn. Later he would meet the new client, and hopefully, she wouldn’t be the clingy, emotional type. He would find out more about Claire .

He walked back to his bedroom, got out his gun and extra ammunition. His feeling was, whenever in doubt, go to the range and shoot until your arm was worn out and your mind wasn’t cluttered with other thoughts. And that was precisely what he was going to do.

The range only energized Joe. The afternoon turned humid. Big, fat gray and black clouds cluttered the sky. Joe heard the distant rumble of thunder. It was going to be a nasty one, the weather report said.

He pulled up in front of Mark’s house, got out and rang the bell. Showtime .

Sam opened the door. “Come on in.”

Joe walked into the comfortable living room.

“Hey, man, how’s it going?” Mark walked out of the kitchen, a to-go cup in his hand. “I’m glad you’re here. I can’t think of anyone I trust more in this situation.”

What the hell was Mark talking about? Trust more? They shook hands and talked a few minutes. While they were standing there, Joe saw movement in his peripheral vision.

Claire! Then a thought hit him like a ton of bricks. Claire couldn’t be the client. But all the praying in the world wouldn’t change the fact that she probably was. She slowly moved into the living room. Her face was pale, and she was clenching her hands in front of her.

“Sam, what the fuck?” he growled. His pulse speeded up, and he wanted to punch something.

Mark stepped in front of Sam. “Back off. Now.”

Sam touched Mark’s arm. “It’s okay. Besides, if I can’t defend myself, I’m in the wrong business.” She turned to Joe. “I don’t appreciate that language, especially from my employee. ”

Joe stared at the small woman who had taken a chance on him. He looked over at Claire, who was trembling. He’d caused that.

“I’m sorry. This was just a surprise. You should have told me earlier it was Claire.”

“I know, but you would have rushed right over, and I wanted to pass it by Claire first."

Mark broke in and said, “I hate to leave the party just as it’s getting good, but I need to get to work.” He turned to Sam. “Man, things always get interesting just as I have to leave. You’ll fill me in later?”

Sam nodded. He bent over and gave her a quick peck on the cheek and left.

“Okay, then, let’s take this into the living room,” said Sam as she led the way. Claire followed, Joe right behind them, his mind filled with questions and threats. If Claire was the abused woman, whoever abused her was in a shitload of trouble.

“Joey. Joe, I’m sorry this was sprung on you. I had no idea you were the person Sam said would be guarding me until a few minutes ago.” Claire had settled into a comfy chair and was staring intently at him.

“Claire, you are the last person I expected to hear was abused.” He let out a tortured groan. “Give me a minute to process this.”

“While you’re processing,” said Sam, “I’ll fill you in on what’s going on.”

Sam started by telling him what happened. Joe knew for sure he wasn’t processing half of what she said. The quote from the movie Casablanca kept repeating in his mind, “ Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine .”

All he got from Sam’s voice in the background was that Claire was running, abused and needed help. His Claire. The girl who had saved his life. The love of his life .

“Joe?”

He turned toward Sam, who looked at him curiously. “Are you going to be okay guarding Claire?” she asked.

Oh, hell, yes. “There’s no problem.”

Claire slumped with relief.

Joe looked at her and shook his head.

Was she upset with him? His heart was pounding, as she rubbed her hands on her shorts, and stared into space,

“Claire,” he said. “I’m so angry about this.

” Her face was flushed, and he knew she was trying to keep herself composed.

He hoped she also knew that he wasn’t angry at her.

“I don’t know how to respond. I want to beat the shit out of your husband until he understands hurting women is not okay,” he said in a soft voice.

A voice he hoped she knew held a world of pain for whoever tried to hurt her.

“Humph,” said Claire. “Me too.”

“Okay, you two. The plan right now is that Joe will stay here with you until Mark or I get home. Is that all right with you, Claire?” Sam tipped her head, waiting for her acknowledgment.

Claire nodded.

“Great. I have to go to work.” Sam slapped her thighs and stood. “You two get reacquainted. Either Mark or I will be here later.” Sam gathered her purse and left.

Joe held Claire’s gaze for a minute. Emotions he couldn’t identify flitted through her eyes. Then he let out a heavy sigh. “Claire.”

“What?”

“Let’s make something to eat, and then we can catch up. I’m sure this is uncomfortable for you but tell me whatever you can. I know Sam skimmed over the surface of what’s going on.”

He stood, put out his hand to her and pulled her up. “ Believe me when I tell you nobody is going to hurt you again.”

She gave him a small smile. Joe promised himself that Keith or anyone would be in a world of pain if Claire was hurt again.