Prologue

Ian

Hordes of people milled about the entrance to the event, the sunny California sun inviting all to come out and play. Saturday had finally arrived and I planned on enjoying the festival, but someone called in. Someone always called in.

The beach sat just beyond the man-made platform, the sound of the waves crashing on the beach almost lulling me into a comatose state. I sat on a concrete pillar and worked to roll the sleeves of my button-down shirt up high and tight. My tats were too pretty not to show off and the warmth of the sun was calling my name.

A few girls wearing the smallest bikinis I had ever seen danced around the gates, one of them blowing me a kiss. I pretended to catch it, winked at her, and tucked the treat into my shirt pocket before adverting my eyes back to the water. I’d be called into action any minute, but until that time came, I wasn’t moving a muscle.

"Ian. You're up, dude," my brother yelled from inside the large chain-link fence. He was my polar opposite in appearance, but it was all a ruse. His blond hair trimmed nicely to his head, his clean-shaven face and blue eyes were all fake. He wanted to live the part, therefore he had to play it. He looked like the pretty boy the world required him to look like in order to own a thriving security business, but on the inside? He was just like me, if not worse. His old lady had him settled down a little, but only enough to keep the peace.

I learned every nefarious move I'd made from my brother Cole, but I wouldn't hold the past against him. He'd also helped me clean up some of the shitty messes I had made. One in particular being my resume. Jobs weren’t a concern until I realized a pretty girl on the dance floor didn’t want more than a one-time fuck from a poor guy. Any hope of getting her number was out once she realized my potential for being a responsible contributing member of society was out. As if those guys fucked strangers…

Hopping off my temporary lookout point, I walked into the all-day concert and glanced around, making sure to take note of anyone who looked suspicious. The event was being put on by the Council for Political Awareness, but the onlookers didn't give a rat's ass who put it on. It was free and it was music.

I moved up beside my brother and smoothed my shirt down as he turned and rolled his eyes at me. He turned and worked my sleeves back down over my shoulders, and brushed something off the front of my pants before I swatted at him.

"Stop acting like my fucking mother," I growled, and turned to watch a pretty blond take the stage. She flashed a little tit and the crowd went wild. I smirked and turned to Cole. "Wouldn't it be the life to just sleep all damn day, smoke a little pot, and then get up on a stage half-naked and lip-sing for a shit-ton of money?"

"She's not lip-singing, Ian." He turned back to scan the crowd and crossed his arms over his chest. "All right. You're up for this next bit. Watch closely for anything suspicious. Senator Moore has more enemies than friends and we're looking to provide a safe environment for him to present his platform."

"Yeah, yeah. Make sure no one blows the rich old man's head off. Got it."

"Fuck, Ian. Don't say that out loud. You'll jinx us."

"I don't believe in anything but luck and I ain't got any of it." I chuckled and poked my finger into his side as he jerked away.

"I'm serious. You never know when something seemingly small might lead to a life-changing opportunity for you." Cole shrugged, snorted in disgust and walked off.

I couldn't help but call after him. "What the fuck does seemingly mean anyway?"

Laughing, I turned back around and dropped the act. I was a security guard most nights of the week at the local hospital, but it paid horribly and I worked my ever-loving ass off. There was never a moment of rest or, God forbid, a word of encouragement.

My brother had picked me up to work a few gigs with his private security company in hopes of getting me the attention he believed I deserved. He was the only one who believed in me. I’d lost my hope for anything better a long time ago. The world was an unforgiving bitch and guys like me limped along just fine as long as it turned a blind eye to us.

The little tart before us finished dry humping the stage and stood, lifting her hands in the air and twirling a few times. One of her backup dancers had to catch her as she started to fall. I couldn’t help but chuckle at the audacity of some people. The fact that she was paid to act a fool was the most fucked-up part of all of it.

"High," I muttered and turned my attention to the crowd, looking at each face and seeing nothing but worship. Why people felt the need to drop to a knee for another human was beyond me. Not my problem anyway. I’d never do that shit in a million years.

The girl walked off the stage and a thin guy with dreadlocks and a pipe hopped up on the platform, his attire making it look like he rolled up out of the seventies.

"All right boys and girls. Now for the big event. We have one of our favorite big wigs here with us today. He's been running this great state from the center of Washington D.C. and is the reason we have regulations on the big bad oil companies, and pot on every corner. Let's give a big hand to our leader and your friend, Senator Mitch Moore!" The guy put the mic down and lifted his hands high in the air, nodding as if to encourage the crowd to show some love.

The crowd went wild and I lifted my hands, clapping a few times for the old man too. He was pretty all right in my book and had worked hard a few years ago to put together a program that helped juvenile delinquents push toward a better life. Between his programs and my brother... I was a different man with a future and a bit of hope. Maybe.

A flash of silver caught my eye as the sun shifted, illuminating the crowd. The Senator lifted his hands in the air, saying something that caused the crowd to cheer again. Must have been about pot. That was the only thing that could get a crowd of Californians to raise their voices to the level they were.

I didn't hesitate for a second, but jumped off the chair I stood on and bounded over people and benches, reaching the guy about the time he lifted his gun.

"Get down!" I screamed in the loudest voice I could muster. The crowd's screams gave acknowledgment to the fact that my warning worked. I plowed into the guy and pushed the gun from his hands as it went off. Holding his arms above his head, I growled at him menacingly and pressed my nose to his.

"Move and I'll fucking tear your head from your shoulders."

“What the fuck, dude? Don’t you know who that jackass is? It’s your own grave you’re digging.” He thrashed beneath me and barked as his face turned beet red.

Someone tapped my shoulder and I glanced back, my body still pressed to the weasel below me. I hated to turn around, but I was twice his size. The fucker wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Cole extended his hand to me and smiled. "Great job, man. The cops are on their way. Get up and we'll fill out paperwork and get the hell out of here. One of the other guards can keep an eye on him."

I glanced behind me as the Senator jogged off the stage, turning and lifting his hand toward me. He looked as he should have – shaken up.

I nodded and turned back to my brother. "No one was hurt?"

"Nope. Thanks to you. Impressive. Beers on me tonight." He wagged his eyebrows. “Beer, actually, as in one. You get loose like a high school girl in the country after more than one.”

"Please. I’m like that before we start drinking." I winked and turned back to stare the weasel in the eye, daring the fucker to get up or even twitch. Letting off some steam sounded wonderful and he would do just fine for my punching bag of choice.