Page 16 of The Primary Pest (Iphicles Security #1)

“You’ve got contusions, and they’ll probably want to put in a couple stitches.

They may even keep you overnight for observation.

Let me call Dad to come here and man the office.

” He cupped her face between his hands and looked deeply into her eyes.

“You need this checked out. Call your mom and let her know we’re coming to the ER. ”

“No.” She whined the word. “Mom has never liked me working nights, even locked in here. Now she’ll nag me until I quit, and I’ll have to go back to work at Miss Independence Pies full-time.”

“Maybe you should quit?” Dmytro stated the obvious. “A night job on the highway like this is very vulnerable.”

“One time I got hit on the head. One time . Out of how many?”

“Er—” Ajax didn’t have to do the math. “One is too many for a mom. Believe me. Mine brings in the National Guard every time I break a nail.”

“Your mother is overprotective? I’ll bet she isn’t half as bad as mine. Mine’s an ER nurse, so she’s seen every bad thing that could ever happen to anyone. Anyway, it’s different for boys.”

“Not gay boys,” Ajax countered. “Whenever I bring a guy home to meet them, my mom tries to get a full blood panel. ‘You’re being safe, right? You’re being careful? Don’t forget that every time you swap fluids you have to use protection.’”

“You’re gay and you still did the Ajax Freedom thing?” Muse looked horrified. “You really are a dickbag. Goddess. No wonder you need protection. You deserve everything you get.”

“I know.”

“Still, your mom’s right about… you know, especially if you bring home—”

“Do I look stupid to you?” Ajax asked.

“Little bit.” She looked him over carefully. “Maybe.”

“Well, I’m not stupid.” He huffed. “Reckless, maybe.”

“Nice.” Muse gave him a measured smile.

Bartosz asked, “Did we just introduce Bonnie to Clyde?”

“Ajax.” Dmytro laid a firm hand on Ajax’s shoulder. “Please. In Anton’s name. No more. Let us do our jobs. I need to let Zhenya know about this latest development.”

Ajax asked Muse’s friend, “She’s going to be all right?”

“Yes.” JT nodded for emphasis. “It could as easily have been my dad, I guess, and he’s no spring chicken. I’m JT Lents.”

“Pleasure.” Ajax returned his firm handshake. “I like your dad. He’s cool.”

JT smiled. “I think so too.”

Ajax turned back to Muse. “I like it here. Do you think St. Nacho’s chose me? Maybe I’ll come back sometime, soon as I get rid of my admirer.”

She smiled. “If you do, look me up. I’ll probably be at Miss Independence Pies during the day from now on.”

“Mm… pie. You’ll have to tell me what else is good to eat around here. Show me where to go and what to do, okay?”

“Okay.” She waved while JT called the police to report the robbery.

“We’re Iphicles Security Services should you have need.”

As Dmytro led Ajax from the office, Bartosz gave JT his card.

“Our boss will fill you in, but we’re on a security detail to protect the boy. We would appreciate discretion. Ajax is—”

As Dmytro dragged him out, Ajax imagined Bartosz meant to say “ the pale, writhing larva of people rich enough to buy him the best security that money can buy, even if his problems are entirely self-created, while other people’s equally precious kids are being knocked over the head for the meager contents of a motel cash register. ”

Dmytro said, “You obviously thrive on flouting authority. You meant to stay with her, even if doing so put your life in danger?”

Ajax shrugged. “I played the odds.”

“But there was no way to know the person who hit her wasn’t still lurking around—”

“None of that crossed my mind.” He hesitated when Bartosz brushed past them. “I saw a girl bleeding. She needed our help. I’m not going to walk away from that.”

Dmytro guided him brusquely to the parking lot where Bartosz was already clicking the remote to find Muse’s car. While Ajax watched, he opened the rear door to a battered Mazda. Dmytro motioned him into the back ahead of him. Bartosz got into the driver seat, and they roared away.

Ajax remained silent because he still didn’t know what to say.

“Despite your insubordination, Anton would be proud.” Dmytro’s smile shortened Ajax’s breath. Its warmth made his blood quicken.

No one ever said they were proud of him anymore.

It meant so much more to hear Dmytro say that Anton would be proud of him because they had both worshipped Dmytro’s dead brother.

That much was clear enough from their earlier conversation, from the blank, unhappy way Dmytro had looked when he’d realized Ajax knew Anton—had spent so much time with him before he died.

Maybe they were both Anton’s younger brothers, figuratively trying to live up to some golden ideal of what a man should be. Maybe they shared the longing to be the kind of man Anton was when he died. A hero.

But Ajax Freedom—even Ajax Fairchild—was nobody’s idea of a hero.

He could try harder. Do better. Follow orders, if only because his mother and father, and by extension Dmytro and Bartosz, wanted what was best for him. In turn, he wanted Dmytro to get home to his little girls safely.

Maybe he could even figure out a way to help Dmytro spend more quality time with them. Find him interactive apps or other ways they could play games or learn as a family online.

Bad things happened so quickly.

You had to snatch every moment you could.

What happened to Muse—the blood, the shock of violence, that she might have died—caught up to him at last. Unhappily, he watched the blank, dark scenery pass.

The gray-and-sand color of grass whispering on the side of the road.

The distant glassy sea. He didn’t know where they were going except the general direction was south.

He was growing nauseous. He couldn’t stop tapping the fingers of one hand against his thumb.

1-2-3-4-4-3-2-1. As long as it wasn’t against something—as long as it was only his fingers tapping an endless series of uncomplicated sequences against his thumb—his secret was safe. Probably.

He had very nearly drifted off when a hand came down on his shoulder.

“Tell me what you’re doing?” Dmytro asked. “I’d like to help.”