Page 15 of The Primary Pest (Iphicles Security #1)

CHAPTER TWELVE

Dmytro

Ajax Fairchild, you are filth. I will wash you clean with your own blood and bathe myself in the sweet liquor from your corpse.

“I am not”—Dmytro jabbed a finger Ajax’s way—“his father.”

“Oh hell no.” Ajax’s daddy issues over Dmytro came from another place entirely—an unseemly, unwholesome place he’d like to explore with Dmytro at great length sometime now that he’d forgiven him for being a dick about Muse. “He’s really not.”

Bartosz only laughed and stepped behind the counter again. “I’ll pick the office lock while you explain to the girl why it might be very unwise for her to let anyone know we’re here.”

She said, “I am a woman, not a girl.”

“Are you related to our client, by any chance?” Dmytro shot a glance her way.

“Make your call,” Ajax urged Muse quietly. “I don’t know what those two will do if we keep them waiting too long.”

She did as he asked and told whoever answered that she needed them to personally come check something out. Smart girl. Whoever it was agreed without hitting the panic button as far as he could tell from their conversation.

“Who was that?” asked Dmytro.

“The owner’s son. Like I said, he’s an EMT, but he won’t think anything of me calling this late. He probably figures he’ll have to unblock a toilet.” She leaned closer and indicated Dmytro and Bartosz with her eyes. “They’re not kidnapping you or anything?”

“It’s nothing like that,” he assured her. “They’re security. It’s their job to keep me safe.”

Her eyes widened. “Because of your stalker? You need two bodyguards?”

He nodded. “I acted like a dick, and someone took it personally.”

She seemed surprised by that. “You didn’t act like a dick tonight.”

“Online,” he corrected. “Mostly I act like a dick online. I’m what you’d call a squeaky wheel.”

“What does that mean?”

“I like attention.” He leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. “Just ask my parents. If I’m not getting enough attention, I generally do something outrageous. This time it came back to bite me in the ass.”

“That’s pretty self-aware.”

“I’ve been me for a while now.” He smiled faintly while Dmytro looked right through him. “What?”

Dmytro shook his head. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m going to end up killing you myself.”

“Sure he’s not your dad?” Muse asked. “He sounds like a dad.”

Ajax blinked. “Not my dad.”

“Come.” Bartosz had gotten the office door open. Now he waved them inside.

“You go,” Ajax ordered Dmytro. “I stay with Muse.”

Dmytro sighed. “I know this might be a novel concept, but as your security detail, we’ll need to keep you with us.”

“We already had this conversation. The robbery has nothing to do with me, and I’m not leaving until I know Muse is with someone who will take care of her. She could be injured badly. She could black out, have a seizure—”

“Oh, don’t I know it.” Dmytro cursed fluently. At least, that’s what it sounded like. He motioned Bartosz back into the office but drew his weapon.

“Whoa. Hey, now.” Muse’s face paled. “No guns. City ordinance.”

“Nice try, but a city can’t override the Second Amendment, and I have a license to carry concealed in this state.”

“That’s not concealed.” She glanced toward Ajax. “Make him put it away.”

Ajax got to his feet between them. “Put it away, Dmytro, you’re scaring her.”

“How exactly am I to protect you if—”

“At least sit, for God’s sake. Jeez.” Much to Ajax’s surprise, Dmytro did as he asked. “Keep your weapon out of sight.”

Through clenched teeth, Dmytro said, “As soon as she’s taken care of, we leave.”

“Fine.” Ajax sat beside Muse again.

“Fine,” Bartosz said from the office. “I feel compelled to say our client is a sitting duck.”

“How many times do I have to say it? This isn’t about me.

” Ajax waved his arms to indicate the robbery.

“Whoever sent me those threats did not break into your safe house, disable the car, or rob this motel. Statistically speaking, the idea is preposterous. We’re right on the highway here.

Any tweaker could have seen their opportunity to rob this place and taken it. Has anything happened here before?”

“Lotta car burglaries. And we had a carjacking once.” Muse glanced out the window. “Right there. We got security cameras after that.”

“Bartosz?” Dmytro called out. “Check the video feed.”

“I’m looking now,” Bartosz called back. “Skinny white kid. Black hoodie, no gloves. You can’t make out a face. They didn’t seem to care about the cameras.”

“Couldn’t be a pro, then.” Dmytro appeared relieved by that.

“The cameras aren’t really angled correctly.” Muse shifted uncomfortably. “I keep telling Carl we need to upgrade that system, but he thinks this is Pleasantville.”

“Pleasantville is north of here,” corrected Dmytro.

“That’s Pleasanton, and I was speaking figuratively.” Muse glanced toward Ajax. “St. Nacho’s is its own little Pleasantville. You know how a place gets a feel sometimes? Like it has an aura?”

Ajax nodded. “I do.”

“One of my friends says people come here because St. Nacho’s chooses them. It’s like nobody even sees the place if Nacho’s doesn’t want them here. Carl hates that because it’s bad for business, but he says it’s true.”

Ajax couldn’t help wondering what Dmytro thought about places that wanted people, but he understood what she meant.

It wasn’t simply the beauty of the scenery that drew him to a place, it was a deeper, older magic that Ajax Freedom would have denied outright but Ajax Fairchild understood on a molecular level.

This motel felt like home. Like being in his grandfather’s living room and watching him tie flies. He hadn’t even seen St. Nacho’s the town yet, but already it was stirring his curiosity, calling his name.

Probably only because of how Muse talked about it, but also, there was something odd about fetching up in the last place he expected to be and finding someone he meshed with so well.

A few minutes passed in silence. If Dmytro had any thoughts about St. Nacho’s, he kept them to himself. Likewise, Ajax didn’t say more. He’d pushed his luck enough for the moment.

Muse lifted a shaking hand to her hair. “This is the first time I’ve ever been robbed. My mom will make me quit for sure.”

“How old are you?” Ajax asked.

“Twenty-two.” She folded her hands in her lap. “You?”

“Me too.” He hated giving his age. He felt so much older—the average human twentysomething was dog years younger than him.

He’d been all over the world. Graduated from college.

He earned his keep and dated men twice his age when he felt like it.

Outside his Ajax Freedom persona, he’d kept them interested in more than just his body.

Despite how Dmytro treated him, he had a brain, a heart, a soul.

He had guts.

He didn’t feel twenty-two , except when Dmytro dismissed him with that cold, cold stare. Except when he wanted Dmytro, and his heart raced, and his dick thickened, and he didn’t feel quite in control of his own body any longer.

His mother undercut him too, without really meaning to. She said not feeling twenty-two was one of the most common symptoms of being twenty-two, and she laughed at him whenever he tried to make the argument.

Ajax was an old soul.

His mother didn’t believe in those things.

Muse was an old soul too; he could see it. The way she handled being robbed, for one thing. The way she screwed her courage on and kept needling Dmytro and Bartosz even though they were obviously dangerous, even ruthless men. Ajax liked her. It was a pity Bartosz planned to steal her car.

“That’s him,” Muse said when an old truck pulled into the covered parking directly in front of the motel’s front door. “That’s JT.”

The truck’s lights went out and the driver leaped lightly down. He hesitated when he saw Dmytro. Pulled a tire iron out from beneath his seat. Ajax moved quickly to prevent trouble—as if a tire iron could stop one of these guys. Ajax opened the door for him. “Hi there. You need to look at Muse.”

“What’s going on?” When he saw blood in Muse’s hair, he froze. “Oh God, Muse, what happened?”

“Someone hit me, I guess. Robbed the till. These guys found me, and Ajax wanted to wait until you got here before leaving.”

“None of you are going anywhere until I call the police.” He started dialing. “You’ll need to give statements.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible. We must go.” Dmytro moved like lightning. One minute JT had a phone and a tire iron, and the next he didn’t. Even Ajax was a little stunned.

“What the hell?” At another narrow look from Dmytro, JT gave up and checked Muse’s wound. “Were you unconscious?”

“She was,” Ajax told him. “That’s why we waited for you.”

“Just who in the hell are you?”

“I’m Ajax Freedom, and—”

“Wait—” Muse said the word, even as Dmytro winced. “What did you just say? Ajax Freedom ? The Instagram and YouTube guy? The geshmillion Twitter followers guy? The asshole who said women were like Canadian TV? Interesting but not good enough for American primetime? That Ajax Freedom?”

“To be fair, women were only one of the groups I routinely mocked.”

Dmytro cursed. “We’re leaving a swath in the ground behind us that blind marmosets could follow. Do you not get that we’re supposed to be taking you to a place of safety and anonymity ?”

Muse couldn’t let it go. “You’re the one who pretended to be like all those other classless, rich, gun-happy assholes who think they’re better than everyone. You’re a racist, arrogant—”

“Does no one understand performance art?” Ajax asked. “Ajax Freedom was ironic . How many times do I have to say it?”

“Dude. You weren’t ironic. You were a homophobic, racist, classist bag of dicks.” Muse winced when JT probed her wound. “Ow. That’s tender.”