Being the beast without the escape clause worked in his favor—most of the time. Other times it added to the ugliness on his body. Twisted the grotesque landscape of his flesh even more. Liv removed his tactical vest, thigh holster, and shoved them into his locker. Trenton Security became his second home the minute his boss, Linus Trenton, had hired him on about seven years ago, but they’d known each other over a decade. He loved his job, more dangerous the better. Linus only gave him solo missions others would consider suicidal.

It was the only thing he lived for, and his boss knew it.

A loud rapping of knuckles on the door caused him to glance over his shoulder. His teammate Harmon Little filled the doorway with his customary mischievous grin on his face. The man was an overgrown kid.

“Liv, boss wants you in his office. He's got another death wish mission for you.” Little hollered but didn't come into the room.

He smirked and slammed his locker door. He raised his hands and scrubbed them over his face, his fingertips and palm caught on the irregular planes of the scars. He'd memorized the dips and bumps on his ruined skin over the years.

He still remembered the fire licking at his body. The stench of burning hair and flesh, still as strong in his memory as when he was eight. Twenty years and sometimes the dreams were so vivid as if it’d just happened. He shook it off and went to find out his next assignment.

He strode quickly through the building, down hallways, then up to the third floor where their offices and conference rooms were. He entered through the open door without knocking. Linus was behind his desk with his phone pressed to his ear.

“Yeah, Yeah, I love y'all too. Yes, I wore my vest, Hunter, and no, Wren, everything went fine. Unless we're in bed stay off my balls, baby.”

He snorted and took a seat to wait for Linus to finish with the call to his husbands. He had no idea how Linus handled two men; he could barely get one to look at him. But his boss seemed happy. Even took fewer risks than Linus normally did. They used to be the first to jump at the insane missions. He tuned out the conversation because he didn’t want to listen to the lovey bullshit.

Finally, the call ended, and Linus turned toward him.

“Still digging the married life?”

“It has its moments.”

“Little said you had an assignment for me.”

He didn't want to rush the boss, but he was ready to go home and take a shower. Three-day stakeouts didn't exactly make for pleasant smells. And he wasn't one to get naked in the locker room. He was plenty used to what he looked like, but he wasn't up for looks of pity or no looks at all.

“Suspected stalker case. Simple bodyguard duty.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? No fucking way.”

“You saying no to an assignment?” Linus' voice was lethally quiet.

He knew that tone. Heard it plenty over their friendship but he hadn't heard it aimed his way before.

“You know I don't handle babysitting cases. You always send Pure.” Pure Warner was ruthless as all of them combined; they assumed it was to make up for the pretty face. The man was huge, but he had these boyishly innocent features. Pure was perfect for babysitting jobs. He had an innate ability for putting even the most traumatized at ease.

Now, him, not so much. His right side from his face to his toes was a patchwork quilt of burn and graft scars. The scars on his face were not as bad, but most of them were hidden by his beard. He’d found himself thankful for his ability to grow a beard when he couldn’t really grow hair on the right side of his body. The damage had destroyed most of his hair follicles. He silently cursed himself for dwelling on the shit he couldn’t change. His ugliest wounds were luckily under his clothes.

They'd put expanders under the skin on his back to cover the worst of his injuries.

“Pure has another assignment to handle. Little is a loose cannon. Gage has a full-time job keeping our asses out of trouble and or jail.”

“Who's the client?”

“Fielding Haskell. He's an up and coming actor. About to make it big or at least that's what his agent says. Filming starts in four months, and they want him hidden away until it does.”

“Four fucking months?”

Liv wasn't hearing this shit. He was not babysitting some fucking diva for months.

“Once we get him stashed out at your place, your security system rivals the fucking Pentagon…you can come to the office. Bring him with you. He lands in four hours out at Cam’s place, since he's got the private airstrip for his men, we can sneak Haskell in.”

Their friends Sin and Saint were married to the local Sheriff. They flew the rescue choppers for the Sheriff's department. Sometimes they even flew the Trenton team. They didn’t do it often since Sheriff Camden Pelter was obsessively protective of his boys.

“I gotta go home and shower off three days’ worth of stench. How Little crashes in his van fucking astonishes me.”

“You ain't fighting me on this, Liv?”

“Would it do any good?”

“Not at all. Meet out at Cam’s place at 0100 hours.”

“Got it.”

He didn't wait around, just grabbed the file Linus handed him and hurried to his SUV. Bulletproof from top to bottom, even with the tires taking a hit, they'd get him several more miles. Some called him paranoid, but he was simply cautious.

He pulled out his fob, hit the remote starter and hopped into the driver's seat. It was forty-five minutes out to his cabin and then almost an hour to Cam's place. So he didn't have much time to get home, get showered and prepare his place for a guest. Hope the guy didn't require a lot of privacy. One room, one bed, he'd set up a bedroll, and be nice and give the kid the bed. He had slept in worse places.

For ten years, he'd lived in war zones before coming back stateside and hiring on with Linus. He cleared his mind and made the drive, planning the whole way.

Shit, he was running fifteen minutes behind. He slammed his brakes and skidded to a stop beside Linus' truck and the hangar. The small six-seat plane was just taxiing to a stop. He jumped from the vehicle and jogged toward Linus. The man looked cranky, but that wasn't anything new.

“You're late.”

He didn't bother answering. Linus didn't accept excuses and Liv didn't give them. He'd changed his sheets. Straightened up his place and stopped at the store on the way there to pick up more supplies. He lived a simple life. No frills. He had enough for him and not much more.

The door opened, and a man in an expensive suit and designer haircut stepped out first. He snorted as the guy checked his shoes for shit.

Linus stepped forward, and Liv let him take the lead. A small thin figure bundled into a puffy white coat came next. Haskell looked like he was getting ready to trudge through the arctic rather than deal with temps in the mid-forties. The situation wasn't looking good.

“Mr. Grant, I'm Linus Trenton.”

He watched Linus hold out his hand, and Mr. D-bag reluctantly shook it.

He lifted his head as two more figures emerged from the plane, an older man and woman. The woman fussed over Haskell like he was a kid. Great, he was babysitting a spoiled brat. Just what he needed in his life, the little shit would probably throw a tantrum as soon as the boy saw his one-room cabin.

“Mr. Trenton. This is out of the way.”

“The Sheriff's private airstrip seemed the safest option for the exchange.”

Linus turned and motioned in his direction.

“This is Francis Livingston. He's in charge of your client's security while he stays with us.”

Suit didn't even glance his way, but that didn't bother him. He studied the interaction between Haskell and the people he was sure were his parents. Paranoia was his greatest asset, and he wanted to get a feel for the enemy, and that was what he considered the client Linus assigned him. He hadn’t survived this long by letting people close.

“We'll need to see where Fielding will be staying.”

“No,” Linus said.

“No?”

Suit’s tone conveyed that the bastard didn’t get told no often or at all.

“Mr. Haskell's location will be kept secret. You'll be able to contact him through secure channels only. His cell will be kept at our HQ.”

“This isn't what we agreed to.”

“You hired us to keep your client safe, and that's what we'll do. Now it's after one a.m., and my husbands are waiting for me.”

Liv didn't miss the snarl of Suit’s nose. He tried not to smirk at the fucker getting ready to piss off the boss. Linus would kill for his men. And Linus had no shame in admitting who he was married to. He’d seen and heard the pride that Linus had for Hunter and Wren. No one could doubt that the three men were a strong triad.

“If you've got a problem you can hop back on that fucking plane of yours.”

Liv nearly fist pumped and turned to head back to his SUV. He could go home to his empty, blissfully silent cabin and ignored the world for a few days. It sounded perfect to him.

“Fielding,” Suit called for the kid.

The kid held tight to a vintage brown messenger bag that probably cost more than all the clothes Liv owned.

“Fielding, don't disappoint me. Have the script memorized and be ready for table reads and filming.”

The kid nodded. Liv’s night vision was great, and the kid's features were delicate—slightly androgynous. He wore a thermal hat with long, blond hair sticking out. He didn't look more than eighteen, twenty at the most, even though the file said he was about to turn twenty-three.

“We have an hour drive, let's go.”

He almost growled when the parents repeated pretty much the same as Suit. The kid had a stalker, one bad enough it required a security team in another state halfway across the country. All they seemed worried about was some script.

“Don't get fat while you're here. Don't deviate from your exercise or diet plan. We don't have time for you to lose it.”

“I said, let's go.”

Haskell flinched, but the kid had better get used to him and quick. He motioned for the kid to follow and opened the passenger door. He didn't touch Haskell or try to help.

“Here's his bags. You know the routine.”

He took the bags from Linus and stowed them in the back seat.

“Dig in for about a week.”

“See you in seven days.”

He once again got into his vehicle and made the long ass ride home. The kid was huddled against the door with his head resting on the window. Thankfully it looked like his new charge was going to sleep the whole way. If only he could be so lucky.