Renner
“I don’t care what you think, those are my fans out there,” Renner’s client argued from inside the limo. “I can’ help it if they want the flava’ KingMe’s got. Just more money for me.” He flashed a gold tooth from the middle of his crooked smile.
“If you’d told me that you informed more of your friends you’d be here, I would’ve hired more than just two guards. This is unsafe, and I advise we delay your arrival until this thins, or cancel.”
KingMe’s expression darkened. “You do what I say. I’m payin’ you to protect me, so do it. I’m going in.”
He fought hard to keep from rolling his eyes. “Stay in the car until I clear the area.” Renner stepped out and checked his sidearm.
The crowd outside the back door of the concert was much larger than they’d expected. His client’s friends had undoubtedly blasted the rapper’s whereabouts on social media. Something he’d specifically told the rapper/gangster not to do. He already had a big enough target on his chest from the criminal investigation he was involved in for attempted murder, then to add even more attention to his stardom.
The bystanders all wore baggy clothes and heavy coats, making it too easy to conceal a weapon. His private security team didn’t have the right to search them either.
The hairs on Renner’s arms and neck screamed warnings; this was not a protectable situation. Not to mention the video camera on the corner of the building was dangling from a shredded wire, and half the streetlights were busted. Most of the light was from the dozens of camera phones waiting to capture KingMe’s entrance.
He shook his head, and spoke into the microphone in his sleeve. “We need to find an alternate entrance. This one isn’t secure.”
“The principal insists on going in here, right now,” Glicker, the other guard he hired to protect Wilson Rhames, aka KingMe, replied.
The newest cookie-cutter rapper to come out of the shady streets of Chicago, and land a recording deal out of a New York studio. Now here he was in San Antonio, Texas, playing one of the seediest clubs in the state.
Renner bit the inside of his cheek. Professionalism in front of a hundred of his client’s fans was required.
Before he had a chance to reply, the limo door opened again, and their over-zealous client stepped out. KingMe flashed his gangster scowl and nodded towards his fans.
They all surged forward to get a closer snap of him.
Glicker raced from around the other side of the vehicle, and he and Renner did the best they could to keep the mob off their principal.
The chaos was insurmountable between keeping the mob off the celebrity and surveying everyone’s hands for anything suspicious.
“Move back,” Renner barked, not caring if he lost his cool with an un-protectable situation. Just get him in the building.
The door was only fifteen feet away, but KingMe kept pausing to take pictures and flash gang signs.
One sultry female pushed herself in front of him, and lifted her sequined shirt. Revealing her C-cups to KingMe and the rest of the world.
Glicker grabbed the woman’s arm to pull her away, but their combative client grabbed her ass and yanked her forward. Their tongues locked, in a loud and slippery French kiss that would’ve made porn stars gag.
An usher from the concert yanked the doors and held them open.
Ten feet, dammit. Renner leaned over to KingMe. “Bring her in with you, but we have to get off this street. Now.”
Without breaking their lips, KingMe flashed him the middle finger, and ground his dick against the girl’s crotch.
“Back up!” Glicker shouted at another group of fans.
The woman pulled away from KingMe with a satisfied smile. “Good night, Wilson.”
As KingMe blinked and stared at her, Renner dropped his gaze to her hands. Something black and shiny glittered off a camera flash.
His heart stopped, and the world silenced.
He yanked on her arm. A loud bang echoed off the buildings, and Glicker threw himself on their client. Screams followed the echo.
Renner reached for his weapon, and another shot went off.
More screams filled the air.
Years of training blocked out the image of a female or crazed fan in front of him, and all he saw was the black and white range target. He emptied his mag into the center circle.
She dropped, and her pistol skidded out from under her crumpling body.
The mob dispersed faster than cockroaches in daylight, including trampling over Glicker, who still covered their client on the concrete. Blood spots marred the ground.
Whose blood?
“Get the fuck off me!” KingMe barked.
Glicker didn’t move.
Shit. “Glick?”
KingMe shoved the bodyguard off. A small hole dripped blood out of his chest.
His dead eyes glazed up into the sky, and the rapper scurried away on his hands and knees.
“Shit! Is that fucker dead?”
More fans raced away, except for one man who still faced the gruesome scene. With too calm an expression.
“Wilson, run inside!” Renner ordered. “Now!”
“Holy shit!” The rapper continued to stare at Glicker’s dead face.
The man reached behind his back.
Renner bent down to pull another pistol from his ankle holster. “Drop it!”
He moved between his client and the suspect, just as the man fired. The bang clashed against the concrete building. Renner fired, hitting the man in the groin.
The man started to drop, but he also managed to fire again.
Renner jerked awake, grabbing his stomach. The room was dark, and there was no pain. Not anymore.
A gentle moan from beside him pulled his attention.
Cassie. Asleep beside him.
A sigh trickled down his body, and he scraped a hand down his face.
The clock glowed 7:30 a.m. At least he’d had a good night’s sleep before the nightmare. His heart was still racing, too fast to hope to go back to sleep. He leaned over and laid a gentle kiss on Cassie’s forehead, careful not to wake her.
When his feet hit the wooden floor, the cold seeped into his skin.
Shower. Definitely time for a shower. Wash away those memories.