HANDS OFF MY WOMAN: Padre Knights MC by Claire St. Rose (83)

At first Dakota thought she was hearing fireworks. A series of loud bangs and the echoes that followed tore her out of a deep sleep. She awoke gasping for breath, searching around the darkened bedroom wondering where she was. It took a few seconds for her to remember that she was in her childhood bedroom at her father’s estate. It was still decorated as if her teenage self were going to come in and flop onto the bed, movie posters and pop star head shots strung up on the walls, pictures of her from dances and proms lining the shelves. Awards and prizes hung prominently over her desk. She wondered who was setting off fireworks and why, and then suddenly there were more bangs and the sound of glass shattering. It was then that Dakota Kane realized it wasn’t fireworks.

 

She scrambled for her cell phone charging on her nightstand and dialed 911.

 

“911, what’s your emergency,” said the overly-calm voice on the other end.

 

“Yes, hello? I think someone’s shooting at my house,” Dakota whispered into the phone as the sound of another blast of bullets filled the air. Then, a roaring sound as an engine somewhere outside picked up speed and peeled out of the driveway. “We’re at 227 Evergreen Terrace, there’s a gate, but we never shut it.”

 

“The police have been notified and are on their way. Is anyone injured?” the voice asked.

 

“Dad!” Dakota whispered. Her father’s room was on the other side of the house. When Dakota had been twelve she had demanded a room in the west wing of the house. As a typical teenager she had wanted to be as far away from her parents as possible while still having them close by in case anything went bump in the night. And now she realized that decision may have saved her life, and doomed her father. Dakota threw the blankets off the bed; she had to go and check on him. It was impossible that something had happened to him. He had to be fine; he had to be okay. Her father was her rock. He was a fixed thing in the universe, always strong and healthy, always there. But when she stood, her knees literally buckled, every part of her shaking and shuddering uncontrollably. She wanted to cry and scream and crawl back under the covers. But she knew she couldn’t. She had to go and make sure her father was all right. She could stand, and if she could stand, she could walk, and if she could walk, she would find her father.

 

Wearing an old high school t-shirt for the Fighting Blue Jays and matching sweatpants, Dakota tiptoed to her door and slowly pulled it open, wincing as if she expected some monster to come flying in. She didn’t hear any noises from outside, so she stuck her head out past the doorway and looked up and down the hallway. Everything was dark and silent. She cursed herself for not turning on the alarm system or closing the gate to the driveway before bed. Back when her mom was still alive, they had always made sure the security system was set, but nothing had ever happened and so they became lax, and look what happened.

 

“Ma’am, I have to ask that you stay where you are until the police have secured the area. Officers are less than five minutes away.” Dakota hadn’t forgotten about the emergency operator; she still held the phone near her ear. The woman’s voice was a reminder that the world was still out there. There were still people who were coming, who were going to save them. But Dakota couldn’t wait.

 

“I have to check on my father,” Dakota whispered into the phone as she tiptoed out into the hallway and made her way the east wing of the house. It was two in the morning and pitch black. All of the lights inside the house were off and she was too scared to turn them on, aware that it might alert someone to her presence. As she made her way silently down the hallway she only had the light of the moon guiding her. The pale, otherworldly light cast strange shadows in front of Dakota that made her jump until her eyes adjusted.

 

“Dad!” she whispered as loudly as possibly, but heard nothing in response. The house was utterly silent. Was anyone still inside? Was whoever had just fired all of those guns lurking around somewhere, waiting for her, waiting for their chance to strike? “Dad!” She called out again. This time louder, this time it was a real shout. But she was met with only silence. Whoever had shot at their house had left, but where was her father. Had they kidnapped him?

 

She began to run, flat out run, down the hallway, ignoring the emergency operator who was ordering her to go find somewhere quiet to hide. She raced through the empty house. There was no one else here. The Kane mansion hadn’t had live-in servants in years, not since Dakota moved out. She raced down the hall and into the grand entrance way and then over to the other side of the house, passing a billiard room, a home theater, and her old playroom, cursing every one as she passed. All of these pointless rooms and things were keeping her from the one thing she couldn’t live without.

 

The floors were a deep and shining chestnut brown, the carpet runners a deep red with a gold trim, and as Dakota’s eyes filled with the tears all of those colors blended together in front of her until she couldn’t see anything. Furiously, she wiped them away and wrenched open the door to her father’s room.

 

There’s was shattered glass and shards of wood splayed across the room. The large window on the northern facing wall was just a hole now, and the cool night air poured in and swirled around Dakota as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing. The entire window had been destroyed and bullet holes had ripped into the solid oak paneling on the other side of the room. Someone had shot at her father’s room from the street below. They must have sent hundreds of bullets into the house, hoping that one or two of them would give them their man.

 

“Daddy!” Dakota yelled, running to the side of his bed. Blood was pooling on the sheets and dripping onto the floor as Dakota crawled into the bed, calling out her father’s name, but there was no response.

 

“Are you there?” she sobbed into the phone.

 

“Yes, I’m here. The police are close, less than three minutes out.”

 

“Please, you have to send an ambulance. He’s been shot.”

 

“Who?”

 

“My father, please, you have to help me.”

 

John Kane had fallen asleep in a ratty Yale t-shirt that was now stained and sticky with blood. Dakota could see the holes in it where the bullets had penetrated his skin. He looked pale and feeble, like his skin was made of paper. He was breathing, but it was ragged and wet, like he needed to cough. His eyes were closed, but every few seconds his face would seize up in pain, relaxing only for a moment before seizing up again. “Dakota?” his voice sounded so thin and frail. Her father with his strong arms and deep voice who had never let her fall or skin her knee. Now he was on this bed, crying out to her.

 

“I’m here, Dad,” she said, cradling his head with her hands.

 

“You’re all right?” he asked, blood foaming at the corner of his mouth.

 

“Daddy, I’m fine. This was the only room that got hit. What happened? Who was it?”

 

“I don’t know,” he whispered. “Truly, I don’t.”

 

“POLICE! Ms. Kane, are you all right?” She could hear the police banging on the door, and then the sound of the door crashing open.

 

“Up here!” Dakota screamed. “Please hurry, he needs help.” Her father’s breathing was shallow and weak. She placed her fingers on his throat and could only feel the butterfly-light thump of his heartbeat. “Stay awake, okay, Dad? Please just try to stay awake until the paramedics get here. The ambulance is going to be here soon. Please make it, Dad. Please.”

 

The police burst into the room behind her, guns drawn, though there were no enemies to point them at. The paramedics weren’t far behind, but it didn't matter to Dakota anymore. The world had dimmed, the edges of everything were blurry, and the only thing that stood out in sharp relief was her father. She stroked his thinning white hair, and whispered to him. As a child she used to have terrible nightmares where she was being chased. In her dreams there would be a monster, but she could never see what it looked like. It was always lurking in the shadows. She would try to run, but it was like the air around her was thick as molasses, her legs and feet dragged and no matter how hard she tried, she could never get them to move any faster. She would go slower and slower, and the monster would get closer and closer. When she finally awoke, crying out for help, it was her father who found her. He would turn on the Little Mermaid lamp by her bed and hold her in his lap as she sobbing told him what happened. He would sooth her and rock her until, before she even knew it was happening, she was back asleep.

 

Now it was her turn to hold him, to comfort him and tell him everything would be all right. She felt like she was lying to him, as she brushed his hair off of his forehead. She was telling him it would be all right, but would it? Would he live? Would he get better? She had no way to know. All she could do was continue to make promises she didn’t know she could keep.

 

Flashing lights flew around her father’s room as the police shouted questions at her. She didn’t have any answers for them. She didn’t know what had happened or who had done it. They faded into the background and all she could see was her father’s rapidly greying face beneath her. Finally the paramedics gently pulled her off the bed and out of the way.

 

“What medications is your father on?” they asked.

 

“What?” she asked, confused.

 

“Does your father take any medication?” The medic asked as they transferred her father from the bed to the gurney. He looked so frail and light. The two men on the team picked him up and moved him easily.

 

“In the bathroom, by the sink,” Dakota mumbled, her eyes never leaving her father. “Something for high blood pressure and another thing for his hair. Can I ride with him?” she asked.

 

The ride to the hospital was a blur of medical jargon Dakota didn’t understand. But from their tone and the way the paramedics would glance at each other over his body, it was clear that the news wasn’t good. Now she was in a fancy waiting room, sitting at an oak table with three flat screens showing the six a.m. news. It was a private hospital; her grandmother had donated the children’s wing.

 

Dakota had no sense of place or time. Sometimes she would look at the clock after what felt like hours only to see that a minute had passed. She was dressed in a set of pale blue scrubs. When she had come in, her clothes had been covered in dark blood. For a while she had sat in them, numb to how uncomfortable they were. Finally a kind nurse had gently helped her change into a pair of scrubs and had held Dakota while she cried.

 

“Dakota, are you all right?” a deep voice asked as a nurse escorted an older looking gentleman into the room. It was six-eighteen in the morning and his best friend had just been shot, but still James Hastings looked impeccable. He was wearing a blue three-piece suit with a red and white striped tie and a matching pocket square, his shoes reflecting the light from the overhead lamps. Dakota started to cry again the second she saw him.

 

“Shh, there there, it’s all right. Everything is okay,” John said as he sat down next to Dakota and enveloped her hand with his. “Your father is made of strong stuff. He won’t let a few extra holes slow him down.”

 

Dakota scoffed at that, and tried to stop her tears and calm down. She had been crying almost non-stop for the last four hours and was always surprised when her body managed to produce even more tears. Every time she thought she couldn’t cry again, she would hear or see something and it would begin again. She was unable to control anything.

 

“Here,” John said, handing her a Starbucks cup. “Triple cafe, skim milk latte with sugar free vanilla, right? We can’t have you drinking the hospital swill.”

 

“It’s a pretty nice hospital,” Dakota managed to say.

 

“I suppose it’s all right,” John responded and he sat down across from her at the table. “Tell me what happened.”

 

“I don’t know. I woke up to gunfire. By the time I got to Dad, whoever it was, was gone.”

 

“You must have seen or heard something.”

 

“Just an engine and the sound of someone driving away fast, nothing else.”

 

“The cameras, did they catch anything.”

 

“The police are looking at them now. Hopefully they’ll know soon.”

 

“I don’t love having the local PD be in charge of this. There has to be a consultant or someone we can hire who can move faster, get more done. I have the number for someone. I’ll give it to you.”

 

“No,” Dakota said, shaking her head. “No, thank you. My father was a big benefactor with the local cops. We’ve had the commissioner over for dinner. I trust them on this.”

 

“Well, I may have my man look in on this. Two sets of eyes are always best. But in the meantime, how are you? What can I do for you?”

 

“I don’t know. I feel like I can’t do anything until I know how he is. I can’t even think past the next second, because what am I going to do if it’s the worst?”

 

The door behind her opened and Dakota turned to see a woman in a scrubs and a white lab coat walk in. Her nametag said Kelly Farraday and, beneath that, “Trauma physician.” This is it, Dakota thought. She felt out of breath, and then she was crying again, tears pouring from her eyes.

 

“Dakota?” the doctor asked gently, pulling out a chair and sitting next to the crying girl. “I’m Dr. Farraday, I treated your father today. I want you to know that he’s alive.”

 

Dakota let out a choked sob of relief, pulling the short doctor into a strong embrace.

 

“Thank you,” she cried. “Thank you.”

 

“He’s still in intensive care, and he hasn’t regained consciousness yet. The bullets did a lot of damage to his left lung and kidney, and he lost a lot blood, but he’s stable at the moment. We’re going to try to keep him stable and wait for him to improve before we do any major surgeries.”

 

“Why the wait?” James asked.

 

“Surgery is hard on a healthy body. It’s prudent to wait until we can be sure that his heart can take it before we do anything more complicated.”

 

“Maybe we should get a second opinion on that,” James said to Dakota.

 

“I’m sorry, sir. What is your name and how are you related to Mr. Kane?”

 

“I am James Hastings, John’s oldest friend, and this girl’s godfather,” James explained, his annoyance showing on his face.

 

“Well, James, Mr. Kane is well known around this hospital. The Chief Resident and the Chief of Surgery are personally looking after Mr. Kane. You’re free to seek a second opinion, but it’s the opinion of everyone who’s treated Mr. Kane that we should wait.”

 

“The doctors know what they’re doing, James. We should trust them.”

 

“Thank you,” Dr. Farraday said.

 

“Can I see him?” Dakota asked.

 

“Briefly, but he’s not conscious. You can see him for a few minutes, but then I think you should go home and get some rest. Your father won’t be waking up anytime soon. He’s heavily medicated to help him rest. Your father is well looked after, Ms. Kane. You should take care of yourself.”

 

“Yes, I completely agree. You need rest, Dakota. I’m calling for a car and sending you home and I don’t want to hear one single word of argument,” James said as he stood, taking a moment to adjust his suit before walking out of the waiting room.

 

“It’s good that you have someone who’s looking after you. You shouldn’t be alone in times like this,” Dr. Farraday said.

 

“Thank you,” Dakota said. “Can I give you my cellphone number so you can call me if anything goes wrong?”

 

“Of course, and I’ll walk you over to see your father.”

 

The intensive care unit was unearthly quiet. The only sound was the rhythmic pings from monitors letting the doctors know that everything was fine. Her father’s eyes were closed and there was a breathing tube down his throat. It looked like he was hooked up to a dozen machines, and IVs ran from both arms. His face was paler than before, and when Dakota leaned down plant a kiss on his forehead, he didn’t move. She knew she needed to go home, but there was nothing at home. Everything she wanted was in this room. She would stay as long as they would let her.

 

But, eventually, night fell and Dakota was ordered home. She returned the next day and the day after that as the various people in her father’s employ swirled in and out of her vision, attempting to fix what was broken, all of them determined to keep Dakota safe.

 

“You hired a biker to be your bodyguard?” Marley’s voice was so loud Dakota could hear it up a flight of stairs and through about three solid oak doors.

 

Dakota had been staying in the house since her father’s attack, back in her childhood bedroom. Only now, the gate was always locked and the security system was activated at all times. James and the police had decided her apartment in Center City was too dangerous and, besides, Dakota was planning on moving in once her father was released from the hospital anyway. She wanted to be there to take care of him. She had wanted to make sure the house felt like a home for him. She didn’t want him to feel alone. It felt strange, that even though someone had attacked the house a few days ago, she still felt the safest there. It had helped that the security company had sent over a representative to make sure all the alarms, cameras, and sensors were still functioning; the place was locked down.

 

“Yes, and he’s going to be here any minute,” Dakota answered slipping her favorite diamond necklace around her neck as Marley walked in. “Is that what you’re wearing – to a children’s benefit?” Dakota asked.

 

“It’s for the after party, duh.”

 

While Dakota was wearing a simple black dress that fell just above the knees and had a simple, but elegant lace back, Marley, on the other hand, was wearing a silver mini-dress that was about three inches long. A bottle of champagne was chilling on a small table in her room next to a tray of finger sandwiches and fruit, and the first thing Marley did was grab the bottle and expertly pop the cork and pour two glasses.

 

“But we have to go to the actual benefit first,” Dakota reminded her.

 

“Yeah, we sit, eat some crappy food, ignore some boring speeches, and then we go to the after party with your new biker bodyguard.”

 

Dakota snarled at her reflection in the mirror. A bodyguard, it was ludicrous. Whoever had come for her father didn’t want anything to do with Dakota. She had been sleeping in the same house when her father had been attacked and no one had even noticed her. There were no bullet holes in her room, no evidence at all that anyone would want to hurt her. Dakota had made this argument to the police, to James, to her father’s lawyer, to the insurance agent, but she had been overruled at every turn. It was all in her father’s papers, his lawyer had explained; there were instructions on what he wanted to happen should he be injured and unable to make any decisions. Part of those instructions included protection orders for Dakota. It was in her best interest and it was what her father, who was still in the intensive care unit at the hospital, wanted. So under the heavy blanket of parental guilt via lawyer, the kind Dakota was most used to, she reluctantly agreed.

 

“It’s like I’m a child again,” Dakota said as she slipped her lipstick into her Chanel purse. “There’s going to be someone telling me where to go and what to do. I mean, whoever came after my father doesn’t care about me at all. I was in the house when he was attacked and no one came anywhere near me. It’s ridiculous.”

 

“Is it?” Marley asked. “Someone shot your dad in his bed and the cops have no idea who it was. Why not just let this bodyguard hang around with you? You can at least enjoy the eye candy.”

 

“I work with abused children and battered women. Do you really think they’re going to be able to relax and talk to me with a giant bodyguard always hanging around? I can’t take him to the shelter or the home. Everyone will be on edge and nervous and that’s the opposite of what I’m trying to do.”

 

“Well, maybe you should take a break from all that charity work. It’s practically a job for you at this point. You’ve been running from the hospital to the home to the shelter and now this benefit; you need to take care of yourself.”

 

“Miss Kane, there’s a Mr. Mendel here to see you,” the housekeeper said over the house’s intercom.

 

“Yay! Let’s go meet your new biker,” Marley said, downing her glass of champagne in one gulp.

 

With Marley at her heels like an eager puppy, Dakota walked out into the main entryway of the house to greet her new protector. The Kane house had been built by her ancestors over one hundred years ago. It was a massive house, over twenty-thousand square feet, with a grand marble staircase that led to the east and west wings of the house, a solarium, an indoor Olympic-sized pool with a retractable roof, a formal dining room that could seat over seventy guests, and a ballroom that could host up to three hundred people. The house was detailed with stained glass skylights, hand laid mosaic tile flooring, and solid maple and oak doors, floors and railings. They had a movie theater entertainment room (minus sticky floors and stale popcorn), and indoor squash court. There were twenty bedrooms and twenty-five bathrooms along with living quarters for household staff. It was huge and a ridiculous place for one person to live; she had chastised her father for it many times.

 

Now as she glided down the marble steps and into the beautiful foyer with sea green accents to compliment the cold marble, she tried to make every effort to not be too rude to her new bodyguard. Whoever he was, his back was turned as she came down the stairs, wearing a leather jacket and Dakota could make out the bulge of a gun in its holster under his arm. She decided then and there that she didn’t like him. He was in a deep discussion with the housekeeper and she could hear him asking how many windows there were, how many different points of entry.

 

Then he turned around. He was tall, over six feet, and all muscle. His eyes were dark, but clear, like he was really seeing everything. He had jet-black hair that he parted to the left and every now and then a strand of it would slip over his eyes. He was wearing a black t-shirt, black jeans, and a black leather jacket, and he wasn’t at all what Dakota had expected.

 

“Damn,” Marley whispered in her ear. Dakota had stopped on the stairs; she had been so taken aback by how handsome he was that she had actually stopped in her tracks. But Marley wasn’t so easily deterred; she slunk down the staircase, walking slowing putting one foot in front of the other to elongate her legs. “Hello there,” she purred. “You must be Dakota’s new knight in leather armor,” Marley reached the landing and gave him her hand, but instead of kissing it, he took it in an awkward handshake, barely looking at her.

 

“Nice to meet you,” he said brusquely, he was looking at Dakota, “Miss Kane, could we could talk privately before we leave?”

 

“Anything you say to me, you can say to Marley. I’m just going to tell her later anyway.” Dakota said as she joined Marley on the landing. “And you can call me Dakota,” she said sticking out her hand and giving him a firm handshake. His large hand enveloped hers, and she was suddenly aware that he could have crushed her fingers easily if he wanted to. But he was gentle, firm, but gentle with his rough and calloused hands. No one Dakota Kane knew had hands like that. The men in her life worked mostly on computers, the skin of their hands protected by gloves when they did something as strenuous as driving. She got the feeling that this man had never worn any kind of glove in his entire life.

 

“Dakota, I’m Adam Mendel, I’m your new personal security guard. We should go over a few things before you go out,” he said, and his voice was strong and deep. When he spoke to Dakota he mostly looked around him, but when he chanced to look her in the eye she was taken aback. His eyes were large and brown and seemed to have an endless depth to them. And was Dakota imagining something or was he nervous? He seemed to be swallowing a lot and was having trouble looking Dakota in the eye. What was she going to do with a nervous bodyguard?

 

The line was around the block. It actually traveled from the front door of the club down the street and around the corner – a line fifty people deep on a Saturday night at only nine o’clock. It was happening: Adam’s club, Scarred Angels, was officially a success. He had spent the last ten years devoted to the club and to making it a working, legal business, and it was finally paying off.

 

He was practically skipping as he walked past the line and surveyed his clientele. There were girls in skirts that were too short, shirts that were too low, and heels that were too high, exactly the kind of girls they wanted. There were also plenty of guys posturing and posing in front of the girls. Everyone was giggly and loud and boisterous. It was going to be a good night. They were primed to make a lot of money.

 

“Do you see this?” Adam asked to his friend and co-owner Joey who was standing next to the bouncer, trying to look cool.

 

“Dude, we are blowing up. We’ve made it,” Joey said, hitting Adam on the shoulder in his excitement. He was craning his neck to check out the line, counting heads, and he kept hitting Adam in the shoulder with every other word.

 

“This is a good crowd,” Adam said.

 

“Twenty bucks at the door, three drink minimum. We are going to make some money tonight!” Joey said loud enough that several people in line turned to stare at him.

 

“All right, man, let’s go in. Mike,” he said, turning to the bouncer who was ninety-two percent muscle, “no drugs, and nobody underage – no matter how cute they are.”

 

“You got it, boss,” Mike said, crossing his arms and staring down the line of eager twenty-something’s.

 

Once inside the club, Adam and Joey turned away from the dance floor and entered the “Employees Only” section. The music could still be heard in the back, but it was filtered through the walls, just the sound of the bass and drums making it through. It made it sound like the building had a heartbeat.

 

“I got more good news for you,” Joey said, pulling up his email on the phone. “Good job, a lot of cash and incidentals, plus the promise of good referrals. You know the Kanes right?” Joey asked.

 

“I’ve heard of them,” Adam said. “Their name’s all over town.” In fact, for a few years before he turned ten, Adam had stayed in the Kane Home for Young Boys after his parents had been arrested. But he wasn’t going to tell Joey that; he didn’t want to tell anyone that. “Didn’t one of them get shot up in his bed the other day?”

 

“Not one of them, the one, the patriarch and money strings holder himself, John Kane. Shot six times while he slept, drive-by shooting from out front, right through the windows. His daughter was home. She found him and called the cops. He’s still breathing, but it doesn’t look good.”

 

“Who did it?”

 

“The cops have no idea and neither do we, but they want protection for the girl. Even with her father alive, she’s worth a mint. They figure whoever is going after him might come for her next. They want protection for her. Round the clock, and they want us.”

 

“Shit,” Adam said under his breath. Scarred Angels was the name of Adams organization. It had grown from a biker gang to a legit business; protection was one of the services they offered and the one most likely to be hired by unsavory characters. “The Kane family wants to hire us to watch a girl? What, is the army busy or something?”

 

“Currently fighting two wars on foreign soil and we should stop calling her a girl. She’s twenty-six. They’re willing to pay our highest fee, plus per diem, plus a bonus if we find out anything on who shot the old man.”

 

“If the old man’s all jacked up and in the hospital, who’s hiring us? The girl?”

 

“Family friend, James Hastings. Somehow he heard of us and recommended us. First payments already been made and cleared.”

 

“You agreed to this without talking to me first?” Joey and Adam both owned the club. In fact, most of the members of Scarred Angels had put up money, but Joey and Adam, with Adam’s Uncle Bill, ran the day-to-day operations of the club and their protection services. They always talked to each other before making any deal.

 

“Look at the money,” Joey said, showing him the contract. “Plus, it’s the Kane family. They are legit, old money. You’re always talking about how we have to be above board and legal and all that shit. It doesn’t get more above board than the Kanes. Plus, check this girl out.”

 

Joey held up his phone and Adam took it to get a better look. The girl in the photo was stunning, but Adam knew money could buy beauty. She had long, curly dark brown hair, dark eyes and pale skin. In the photo, she was holding a pair of those giant novelty scissors in front of a building with a big ceremonial red ribbon. The Jasmine Kane Women's Refuge, generously donated by the Kane family and named after John Kane’s late wife, the text underneath the picture said.

 

“So, what, we follow around some pretty party-girl?”

 

“And get paid to do so,” Joey answered.

 

Adam let out a sigh. It was everything he wanted: a legitimate outlet for his business. Something that the IRS would approve of, the job had everything he could have wanted. But something was bothering him and he knew in an instant what it was. Dakota Kane, rich, beautiful and one of his men would be watching her twenty four/seven. One of his men would have to be around a beautiful woman all day, know her schedule, her friends; anything there was to know about her, they would know. They would have to watch her, be with her, do this job and stay professional. There could be no hooking up with the person they had been hired to protect. He was worried it was too much to ask.

 

“All right,” Adam said, “But I’m taking point on this.”

 

“Why?” Joey demanded.

 

“You know why.” Adam said.

 

“Oh, so I can’t handle myself, but you can?” Joey demanded.

 

“I didn’t say it; you did.” Adam said, ending the discussion.

 

“Fine, boss man. You start tomorrow night. There’s a benefit at the opera she needs to attend.” Joey scoffed, “like anybody has ever needed to be at the opera.”

 

The house was obnoxious and Adam hated it on sight. It was the most expensive house in the most expensive section of the city. Matching McMansions with matching green lawns worked by matching gardeners lined the street as Adam’s biked roared past them. In each driveway sat new cars all gleaming and perfect. There was no trash in the streets, but there weren’t any kids out playing either. There was no character, no personality; it was as if all of these rich people had picked out the house and the life that came with it from a catalogue. The streets were suspiciously silent; Adam imagined the shooting of John Kane had rattled a lot of the matching nerves.

 

He finally pulled up at the very intense-looking gate that surrounded the Kane property. Property wasn’t the right word – Kane domain, the Independent Republic of Kane? The land the Kane mansion sat upon covered about ten square miles; there was the mansion, but there were also garages, tennis courts, stables, and pools. The Kanes had their own little country back there. They had thought themselves safe until someone had breached their walls. Now Adam was there, a hired mercenary to protect the princess of Kane manor.

 

He surveyed the gate for a moment. It was ten feet tall with security sensors and the trees around it had been groomed so no one could use them to climb up and over the gate. There was a sensor with a card swipe and intercom. It all looked very technologically advanced, but it was still mostly useless. As anyone in the security business knew, gates might have worked on Mongol hordes, but they were mere annoyances to thieves and murderers. Adam figured an uncoordinated child could have figured his way over that gate within an hour; a trained assassin sent to kill would need about a tenth of that time.

 

He used the swipe card they gave him and the gate swung open, revealing a long road lined with apple trees. He revved his bike and with a heavy sigh and reminded himself what this job meant as he rode his Harley down the winding street, watching as the Kane mansion appeared before him.

 

It was like a church and a castle had a baby together and then they spoiled that baby rotten. The mansion was built from a sand colored stone and it rose in front of him like a mirage. There were turrets and pillars and columns. There were also a lot of windows, way too many windows. He had spoken with the company that installed the security system and had them run a scan to make sure the sensors on all of these windows were working. He would have to tell the housekeeper to close all the blinds and shut off as much of this mansion as possible. Any rooms or hallways that weren’t used every day were getting shut down. The last thing Adam needed was some psycho hiding in an empty room for a few days, waiting for the opportunity to strike.

 

As instructed, he pulled around the side of the house where he saw Kane’s massive garage. At three thousand square feet the garage was bigger than Adam’s apartment. Hell, it was bigger than Adam’s club. He swiped his card again and the large garage door rolled back, revealing about ten million dollars’ worth of automobiles. He parked his bike in an empty spot and took a moment to simply bask in the beauty that was around him: a silver Lexus LS that could go zero to sixty in five seconds and a red Lexus RCF with its brand new V8 engine. There were BMW convertibles and classic cars all lined up neatly in this garage. They were all gleaming and new without a dent or scratch or the tiniest amount of grit or dirt on them. Adam wondered how many of them had actually left the garage and been taken out for a spin. It was a sin that this man could have all of this hardware and none of the appreciation. Looking at the BMW convertible, Adam knew the perfect hilly road about forty minutes outside of the city. If he could only get that car out there, and open her up...but he had not been hired to test drive John Kane’s cars; he had been hired to watch the man’s daughter.

 

There was a brand new, black, all leather interior Lexus gassed up and waiting for him with the keys in the ignition and important addresses plugged into the GPS. If Adam had to be a glorified chauffeur, he was at least glad that he would get to do it in a nice car. In doing his research for this job, Adam assumed the cars would be his biggest temptation. He spent all morning looking up info on Dakota Kane, and he had been rewarded with typical heiress behavior.

 

Parties, events, banquets, and balls, she sat on the board of a dozen charities, as well as the arts council, the opera, and the ballet. All in all, Dakota Kane was just another typical pretty, rich girl who liked to go out, get drunk, and call it a charitable donation. He had spent the entire night looking at pictures from all of the extravagant events she had either hosted or attended – a black tie dinner with filet mignon and Chilean sea bass for the children’s hospital and, ironically enough, a night at the ballet for the Kane Home for Young Boys.

 

As he read puff piece after puff piece about how great Dakota Kane and her charitable ways were, Adam only grew angrier. Sea bass and filet mignon weren’t cheap; neither was the ballet nor a five-hundred-dollar-a-plate dinner for the needy, but how much actually went to the needy? When you factored in the space and the food and the entertainment, it probably came out a wash. Imagine if they took all that money they spent on all that fancy food and actually gave it to the poor. Forty dollars could buy a filet, or it could help feed a family of four for a week. The waste and expense made him sick. All those rich people patting themselves on the back for helping the less fortunate, spending the night eating food the needy would never get to touch, and then returning home to their mansions. None of them knew what it was to be needy, not like Adam did. But he wasn’t here to settle scores or explain poverty to those who would never experience it. He was there to keep Dakota Kane safe until her father’s attackers were brought to justice. He just needed to stay focused and finish this gig. Then he would be set.

 

If this went well and he got a good recommendation from Kane, he could get connected with some other rich and powerful people who needed some protecting. More people meant more work – work for his cousins and friends. He had them all working at the club, but it wasn’t enough hours and he knew when he wasn’t looking, they were still involved in some less than legal activities. But they had to be; the club couldn’t pay for all of them and, unlike the Kane’s of the world, Adam’s people needed to make money. That’s why there was so much riding on this job. If Adam could keep Dakota Kane safe, Scarred Angels would have officially made it. No more riding along with trucks filled with “bananas” and “pacifiers.” No more having to look the other way or hope the cops didn’t show up when delivery time came. They would be a legitimate operation, everything legal and above board. This was literally a once in a lifetime opportunity and Adam had taken control of it. Failure or success, it was all riding on his shoulders.

 

“I want all of the windows locked, and the drapes pulled. Tomorrow morning we can go through the house room by room and figure out which rooms we can close off,” he was saying to the housekeeper as the all-too familiar sound of heels clicking on a hard floor came echoing down the main stairs. With a heavy sigh, he looked up, ready to greet his charge and do what needed to be done. But, as his eyes travelled up the stairs and finally rested on Dakota Kane for a moment, Adam stopped breathing. Dakota Kane wasn’t just lovely in photographs; she was beautiful in person. None of the photos he had seen had done her justice. Her flawless pale skin was offset by a simple black dress and her hair was pulled up exposing her smooth neck, but it was something more. There was something in the way she held herself and walked, her movements dedicated and graceful, like a dancer. Her back was straight and her long arms stayed perfectly by her side. And when her friend in the flashy silver number pushed past her on the stairs, Dakota barely paused before continuing her descent, maintaining her composure all the while.

 

Silver skirt came down and introduced herself and generally buzzed about him like an annoying fly. He wished she weren’t here; he wished it were just him and Dakota so they could get a chance to at least introduce themselves and try to get off on the right foot. He found himself nervous and taken aback by Dakota, who barely looked him in the eye.

 

“Nice to meet you,” Adam said, trying maintain his composure and professionalism. “Miss Kane, could we could talk privately before we leave?” He had asked in what he assumed was the nicest voice possibly; surely she would agree that they were on the same side, at least.

 

“Anything you say to me, you can say to Marley. I’m just going to tell her later anyway.” Dakota said as she came down the stairs. Her tone was strong and she spoke slowly and clearly with a beautifully light voice. “And you can call me Dakota,” and unlike her friend who seemed to want her hand actually kissed, Dakota stuck her thin arm and small hand into the air between them. Her hands may have been small, but her handshake was strong and the skin of her hands was so soft and smooth, Adam had to stop himself from grazing her pale fingers with his thumb.

 

“Dakota, I’m Adam Mendel. I’m your new personal security guard. We should go over a few things before you go out,” he swallowed awkwardly, his throat suddenly dry.

 

“Let’s do it in the car,” Marley whined. “I want to get there and get to the bar already.”

 

Adam watched as Dakota rolled her eyes, and then she looked at him, making eye contact and Adam wanted to take a step back. Her beautiful dark eyes, rimmed with shadow, stood out against her pale skin and seemed more alive than any Adam had ever seen.

 

“In the car is fine,” he said. Yes, that’s what he needed, a car. He knew everything there was to know about cars, inside and out. He needed something to focus on besides how hot Dakota Kane was. Driving had always been the way Adam let off steam or relaxed, sometimes he would drive hours in one direction, taking any and all back roads he came across, just turning around and trying to find his way back home. Plus, he knew the car would have a divider that went between the passengers and the driver; Adam decided he could definitely use a screen at that moment.

 

They walked out into the rapidly darkening sky. The night was cool, spring in full force, and the air was still wet from that afternoon’s rain. The view around him was breathtaking; mist covered hills and starlight that seemed to go on forever. The front door of the Kane’s house didn’t face the city, instead facing out into the valleys that lay beyond. The crickets were starting up and even though Adam loved living in the city and would never leave it, there was something majestic about places without buildings; they were his favorite places to drive through.

 

He opened the back door and Dakota slid into her seat without making eye contact. Then, it was Marley’s turn. She pressed herself against him and whispered, “Thanks so much. We all feel so much safer with you around.” Closing the door firmly Adam took a deep breath before opening the driver’s side door and taking the wheel.

 

He turned the key in the ignition and the car purred to life. The engine was so quiet and smooth that Adam could barely tell it was running. Checking the odometer, he saw the car had a whopping one hundred and sixty-seven miles on it. He gripped the wheel and let the GPS guide him down the driveway and towards the city.

 

“So, Adam,” Marley said, “What is it that you do? You’re a professional bodyguard; is there like a school for that?” and when Adam looked in the rearview mirror she was running her fingers up and down her collarbone. It was less of a suggestion and more of a blatant siren call for his attention.

 

He glanced over at Dakota, hoping to catch her eye, but she was sitting off to the side, gazing out the window, gently biting her bottom lip and fiddling with her diamond necklace.

 

“Not that I know of,” Adam answered.

 

“Who else have you guarded? Who are your references so we may call them and confirm that you are, in fact, a bodyguard since you don’t have a degree to offer as proof?”

 

Yeah, right, which previous client should he give her? The Russians who needed an escort from Mexico to Kansas City; the purchase order said they were moving four tons of cat toys. Or maybe he should tell her about the time he hunted a man down for a mobster; he could still remember dragging the man into the warehouse. He had been screaming and begging – he was still screaming and begging when Adam and Joey left; what happened next was none of his concern.

 

“All of my clients are confidential.”

 

“Then how do people check your references?” Dakota asked.

 

He hadn’t realized that she had been listening to their conversation. “We normally work through referrals,” Adam answered. It was a baseball player that wanted to score hookers and prescription painkillers that had been their first foray into personal security. The player had a cousin that was a member of Scarred Angels. He hired them to escort him around take him to the coolest bars, take him to places where he could meet easy women and score easy drugs. It was easy, and the player told other players, and every time the team won a home game they hired the gang for “protection.” Players got traded and talked with other players and the gang started getting steady work. Players dated models and professional party girls who dated executives and Scarred Angels worked their way up the ladder. Now Adam was driving a car with the heir to the Kane fortune sulking in the back seat.

 

He looked in the rear view mirror and was surprised to see Dakota’s critical eyes staring at him. He held that contact for a moment before remembering that he had the heir to the Kane fortune in the backseat and should probably keep an eye on the road.

 

The Opera Theater was lit up a pale blue, which was ironic considering the benefit was for the Red Cross. The local news, paparazzi, and various onlookers were all shouting and pointing from behind the dividers that so effectively separated the haves from the have not’s. Adam slowed as he entered the long queue of matching black cars inching their way towards the entrance. Everyone seemed to know the car by the license plate; he was waved past security without even needing to roll down his window. It was like riding with Moses; everywhere Adam drove cars moved out of the way and police ushered pedestrians onto the sidewalk so the car could maneuver easily. He pulled up to the entryway and quickly hopped out to open the door. Marley climbed out first and took a second to pull her short dress down.

 

“Thank you, but you don’t have to open the door for us. We can manage that,” Dakota said quietly as she stood up and smoothed her dress down her stomach.

 

“Of course,” Adam said, trying not to look at her. “Your lawyer gave you my cellphone number, correct?” he asked, again unable to look at her for some reason.

 

“It’s in my phone,” she responded, and he could hear a hint of annoyance in her voice.

 

“Could you call me so I can make sure it works?” he asked.

 

There was, a sigh, a very audible sigh and she dug around in her purse to pull out her phone. His line rang and, with a nod, he cancelled the call.

 

“I’ll be around. Call me when you’re ready to go and I will pick you up. Call me if there are any issues.”

 

“Will do,” she answered over her shoulder as she walked inside, leaving Adam to drive the car to the parking lot alone. The car joined all the others in the VIP section, rows and rows of the newest BMW and Lexus’s all gleaming in the lamplight. It was such a shame to have these amazing pieces of technology and only use them to drive people from one place in the city to another. He sighed and leaned back against the car, unsure of what to do with himself now. He wanted a cigarette, but he had quit five years ago, a hell he didn’t want to have to do all over again.

 

So he waited, and waited. He couldn’t leave; he couldn’t go to his apartment or to the club, and he needed to be there in case there was an emergency. But he couldn’t go inside; he hadn’t bought a thousand dollar seat at the table. He had to admit that helping move drugs was at least more interesting than this, and the baseball players had at least been fun and generous with their drugs. The players had wanted protection, but, even more so, they wanted someone to hang out with whom could party. Boredom, he supposed, was one of the downsides to going straight.

 

Adam had tried his hardest to keep himself entertained if only to keep himself from wondering what Dakota Kane was doing inside, who she might be talking to, or dancing with. He called the club to check in, got a coffee and a Popular Mechanics, and settled in for a four-hour wait.

 

Four hours later, Adam got the text that Marley and Dakota were ready to be picked up. It was eleven-thirty on a Saturday night and Adam desperately wanted to be anywhere that wasn’t this car.

 

“After party,” Marley slurred as she tumbled into the backseat with Dakota slipping elegantly in behind her. “After party, after party. Look at this dress; this is an after party dress, so let’s go to the after party.”

 

“I should really go to the hosp-” Dakota started before Marley interrupted.

 

“Why? Your father is resting comfortably. He’s not awake. He won’t know you're there and if he were awake he would tell you to go out and have some fun. So I’m telling you to go out and have some fun, dammit! You’ve been at the hospital all week. You deserve a night out and I will be making that happen. Do you know that new club, Scarred Angels?” Marley asked Adam. “We would like to go there please.”

 

Adam’s stomach dropped to his feet. These two girls wanted to go to his club? In truth, getting Dakota Kane as a regular at his club would be a huge deal for them, but he also knew there were plenty of unsavory characters in the dark corners of Scarred Angels.

 

“What’s Scarred Angels?” Dakota asked, “I’ve never heard of it.”

 

“Don’t know, but Jen and Tiffany were there the other night and said it was fun. Kind of dirty and old school, plus I’m sick of Club Lala. Let’s try something new.”

 

Adam had balked at the word “dirty” to describe his club, but, for some reason, when he went to open his mouth and tell them he worked there, nothing came out. He didn’t want to have to go into a whole thing and tell these girls his life story. There was no need for them to know. He had a job to do and, since he could navigate Scarred Angels with his eyes closed, he decided it was the best possible outcome for the after party.

 

They arrived at the club and Adam handed the keys off to one of the kids working the valet. The line was around the block again, and they got plenty of nasty looks and comments as the two girls and Adam swept past the poor fools waiting in line.

 

“Two,” Adam said to the bouncer who gave him a nod and opened the door, allowing the three of them inside. The club was in full swing. The DJ was playing a mix of electronic and dance music and the crowd was packed on the floor. Red, blue, and orange lights swung around making it feel like they were inside a giant spinning kaleidoscope, but in a good way.

 

“Jen and Tiffany are over there,” Marley shouted over the music pointing to the VIP section where Joey himself stood, watching over the velvet rope that admitted only a select few.

 

“Yo, man! I did not expect to see you here tonight!” Joey shouted as Adam let Marley and Dakota into the VIP section.

 

“They wanted to go to an after party,” Adam explained.

 

“And you brought them here? Nice.”

 

“No, it was their idea.”

 

“Dakota Kane knows who we are. We have officially made it.”

 

The girls drank vodka seltzers and tipped the waitresses well. They mostly hung out in a private booth talking with about six other friends that had appeared. They all wore matching shiny and short dresses, except for Dakota who stood out in her tasteful black number. But even though he was on his home turf and nothing had gone wrong, Adam still couldn’t relax. Was bringing Dakota here a good idea? Someone had tried to kill her father less than a week ago, and very well might want to kill her. What would happen if she died on his watch in his club? Scarred Angels would never survive. So with that excuse, Adam didn’t take his eyes off her all night.

 

“So what’s she like?” Joey asked, nodding towards Dakota.

 

“Fine, I guess. We’ve only said like two words to each other so far.”

 

After getting properly sloshed on top shelf vodka, the girls moved down onto the dance floor. Adam stayed on the balcony in the VIP section and leaned against the railing, his eyes never leaving Dakota. She walked with her friends, but soon let herself be separated from them, moving through the crowd until she was at the center of the dance floor. She let her hair down and it fell in loose curls around her shoulders. And as a new song started, she began to dance, moving her feet, hips, and hands with the music, her body graceful and lithe. She swayed with the beat, and even though Adam was too far away to know for sure, it looked like her eyes were closed, like she was lying back and letting the music move through her. He couldn’t help but imagine himself down there with her, his hands on her hips, kissing her neck, moving with her. It was a stupid little fantasy; Dakota Kane, the rich heiress, would never want anything to do with the help. But still, they would have fit nicely together.

 

Then, there was a commotion at the door. A fight had broken out; he could see other members of Scarred Angels rushing to get it under control. Fortunately, no one on the dance floor had noticed it, but if they did, it could have turned into a stampede. Without panicking, Adam jumped down the stairs and moved confidently through the dancers. With his height and build it wasn’t tough to move through a crowd; most people willingly got out of his way. He kept working his way to the center where he had last seen Dakota.

 

He saw the lace back of her dress first and, without thinking, put his hand on her lower back. She jumped away from him, turning around to face him, furious. He held his hands up in a mock surrender.

 

“What?” she demanded.

 

“Let’s get off the dance floor for a minute.”

 

“Why”

 

“A fight’s broken out by the door,” he said, bringing his face close to hers so she could hear him.

 

“It’s a club. There’s always going to be a fight somewhere,” she said. “I was just starting to have a good time.”

 

But Adam could hear the fighting, the sound of tables being moved and people shouting. It was time to go, now. “I think we should get you out of here, just to be safe.”

 

“Seriously, no. It’s just a little fight. I don’t want to leave.” She was drunk, not a blackout mess, but definitely over the limit. Her face was tinged with red and she was slurring her words a little bit.

 

Adam also noticed an overly-gelled guy circling her like a hawk. “Back off,” he ordered the guy, who gave him a dirty look, but still backed down.

 

“Stop it,” Dakota said, taking a moment to realize what he had done.

 

“Look, it’s my job to protect you, so that’s what I’m doing. It’s late, the club is closing in an hour; why don’t I take you home now.”

 

“Why, so your job can be a little easier? No thanks. I came out to have a good time and that’s just what I’m going to do,” and with that Dakota turned away from him and slipped into the dancing crowd that was all around them.

 

Adam was stunned. The people on the dance floor ebbed and flowed around him as he stood staring at the place where Dakota Kane had stood. She really thought she could get away so easily? She had no idea who she was dealing with.

 

Within five minutes, everybody working at the club had eyes on Dakota, including Adam. When she got a drink, he knew about it. When she was on the dance floor, he knew where she was. And so, near two o’clock, after Marley had left with some guy and Dakota made her stumbling way towards the entrance, Adam was there waiting for her.

 

“Are you ready to leave?” he asked, trying hard to keep his voice emotionless.

 

“Yes,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest and refusing to look him in the eye.

 

Normally he would have gone and got the car for her, driving around to pick her up. But now he couldn’t trust that she would be there, so together, in an incredibly awkward silence, they walked to the car. The music from the club was still seeping out onto the sidewalk, mixing with the noise of traffic and overheard conversations. Dakota walked a good three feet away from Adam and she was again immersed in her phone, barely managing to walk in a straight line.

 

He let her open her own door and they drove home in silence. Back at the Kane home, he dropped Dakota off and parked the car in the garage. It was only his first day and, somehow, he was exhausted. All he wanted to do was go home, smoke a joint, and go to bed, but he was sleeping at the Kane home that night, and who knew how many nights after.

 

By the time he got inside, Dakota was nowhere to be found, but when he went upstairs to check on her, he could hear a shower running. So he let her be. The Kane home at night was surprisingly creepy; there were endless hallways leading to other hallways and more doors than he could count. There were paintings on the wall of old fashioned people whose eyes followed him everywhere he went and weird, modern art that was nothing more than violent streaks of color spread across the frame. Everything was spotless and perfect and Adam felt like the proverbial bull in a china shop. Every time he would brush by a table in the hallway, he would have to turn around to grab some knickknack or vase before it fell.

 

He walked down into the basement, past the kitchen and into the servant's quarters where he would be staying in his tenure as glorified chauffeur. But he felt more at home down there anyway. There were comfortable looking couches and a flat screen TV, not too bad at all. Before he went to sleep he entered the “command room” where all the security was handled. Monitors flashed over green-tinged night vision of the yard and the various other structures on the property. But everything was quiet. All of the sensors on the windows and doors had been activated and if anyone opened anything, an alarm would wake him up.

 

He undressed, leaving his clothes on a pile near the door and slumped into the, admittedly, very comfortable bed. The room was sparse: a bed, dresser, and small TV, no art on the walls, no pictures, very clean and sterile. It reminded him a little bit of his room at the Kane Home for Boys, only he had shared that room with three other kids. He lay on his back and looked out the lone window in his room. The servants were in the basement (naturally) so his windows were level with the ground outside. But still, he could see the wind pushing the grass and dark night behind it. He wondered what his younger self would think of him right now sleeping in the Kane mansion. Only he wasn’t a guest; he was an employee. Everything was simultaneously different and exactly the same.

 

Her father awoke at seven-thirty on a Tuesday morning. Dakota had found Adam sipping coffee and staring at the wall of security screens, dressed quickly and drove her to the hospital in record time. Her father’s eyes were tired, but they were open and when she walked into the room, he held his shaky hand out to her and she took it gratefully, kissing the back, unable to keep the tears from falling. He was finally awake, but he was not yet in any position to go home. He had to stay and she needed to be patient.

 

“Dad, this security thing is unnecessary. I’m staying at the house and no one has tried to hurt me. There haven't been any threats or anything. I think we can let Adam go.”

 

“No, no, no,” her father whispered from his bed. “You are the only thing in this world that I love, Dakota. I need you to be kept safe. I know you think it’s unnecessary, but do your poor, old father a favor and indulge me in this. Let us keep the security measures until the police know who attacked me. Then, we can talk about it.”

 

“So, this is a forever thing?” Dakota asked.

 

“It’s a shame that it has to be this way, but we live in a dangerous world. We could only remain untouched for so long. Now we must be careful.”

 

“I don’t like it, Dad. It’s smothering.”

 

“You’ll get used to it. I promise. You just need to be patient, give yourself time to adjust.”

 

She needed to be patient. Patience was the last thing she was thinking about. She didn’t want to be patient. Dakota would never have admitted it out loud, but she was sick of this hospital. It hurt her to see her father looking so grey and old in the hospital bed. And she was sick of Adam Mendel. He was always there, knowing where Dakota was going to be before she even got up to move. She couldn't open a door anymore without seeing Adam’s smirking face on the other side.

 

He was always around. He wouldn’t let her drive anywhere on her own; when she came to hospital, he did to. Her benefits, her board meetings, there was always some six-foot biker waiting in the corner. She wanted her life back. She wanted to go to a coffee shop and sip a latte without having someone there who needed to check the exits. She wanted to reopen her house. Seeing the darkened windows and locked off areas depressed her. She wanted to go out when she wanted and leave when she wanted. She was tired of being twenty-six and having a babysitter. She was tired of all her friends asking if he was single. She had no idea and didn’t care to find out.

 

The last time she had managed to relax was when she had danced alone at Scarred Angels. That was, until Adam had interrupted her and ordered her to leave. Her one chance to be free and forget everything and he had barged in and started giving her orders. She hadn’t been to the women’s shelter or the boys’ home since her father’s accident; she couldn't exactly walk in there with her tall, muscle bound, gun-toting bodyguard.

 

Waiting was driving her crazy. The police still had no idea who had attacked her father; they had no clues, no leads. Whoever had attacked John Kane had manually opened the gate, driven down the lane, shot up his bedroom, and left. They had no license plate number, no description of the attackers, nothing. One of the richest men in the country had been attacked and no one knew anything.

 

As Dakota left the hospital for the night, her phone rang and, looking down, she saw it was Elizabeth calling from the Kane Home for Young Boys.

 

“Hey, Elizabeth. What’s up?” Dakota asked.

 

“Have you ever heard of a Blinky Bear?” the frazzled voice on the other end of the line asked.

 

“Blinky Bear? No, what is it.”

 

“It’s a toy. We have a four year old who was just brought in. His parents were cooking meth in the house. They’ve been arrested and he was pulled. But he’s been crying non-stop for hours because he wants his Blinky Bear.”

 

“I can go to the house and get it.”

 

“No, you can’t. The house is covered in dangerous fumes and the bear has been admitted as evidence in the state’s case of abuse against the child. We can’t get his Blinky Bear and every store I’ve called is either closed or doesn’t have it. It’s the new hot-ticket toy.” She stopped and gave a long sigh. Dakota could easily picture Elizabeth on the other end of the line, she would be running her hands through her brown hair and biting her lip. “Do you think you know anyone who might have one?”

 

“I definitely do. I’ll be there in an hour. Tops.” She was still in her father’s room, but he had fallen back into a deep sleep. After hanging up the phone, she walked over to his bed and looked down at him. His face was ashy and grey, and incredibly still. Dakota laid her hand against his chest to feel his heartbeat, but it was so light and slow. She leaned over and kissed his forehead, turned off all the lights, and quietly closed the door behind her.

 

Adam was, of course, in the chair outside the room. There was a nurse with a chart looming over him, and giving a little giggle at something he said. It was impossible for Adam to go anywhere and not have some pretty young thing throw herself at him. When the nurse saw Dakota, she stood up straight and her face flushed red with embarrassment, but Adam barely moved, unashamed as always.

 

“Are you ready to leave?” he asked, standing slowly.

 

Dakota opened her mouth, ready to explain the trip she needed to make, and then she closed it again. He didn’t need to know, and it would be so nice to get out of the house and away from him. Just to have a minute to herself. She wanted to drive her own car and listen to Taylor Swift and sing along without anyone around to hear her. So instead, she just said, “yes, thank you.”

 

The drive home was quiet; Adam drove the speed limit, taking them through the darkening city streets.

 

“I’ll be taking the night off,” Adam said. “One of my associates, Mike, will be in the house all night if you need anything.”

 

“Of course, thank you,” Dakota said, she wondered why he would need a night off. What would he be doing with himself? Despite being in close confined quarters they had spoken very rarely, and nothing they said had any depth to it. She didn’t know anything about Adam and he, well, probably knew a great deal about her. But it was all stuff that could be found on the Internet. He didn’t know the real her, almost no one did. When you had as much money as Dakota Kane, everyone was suspect. Almost everyone she had ever met had wanted something from her, and most of the men she had been serious with just wanted to make a business contact of her father. Dakota knew Adam was just doing a job. She didn’t want to make friends with him just to have him disappear when the checks stopped coming in.

 

She looked up at him, at the parts of him she could see in the rear view mirror. His dark eyes were fixed on the road, there were little crinkles in the corners, and a stray lock of dark hair hung over his forehead. She had forgotten that she was starting and when his eyes flicked to the rear view mirror, the eye contact shocked Dakota and she had to look away.

 

Like a chaste prom date Adam dropped her off at the front door and drove the car around back. She went upstairs, but from her window she could see Adam and Mike talking near the garage. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Adam was doing most of the talking, pointing at the house and Mike was nodding. They laughed about something and Adam clapped Mike on the shoulder. She watched as Adam slung one leg over his bike and settled into the seat. Mike gave one last wave and Dakota heard the low roar of the bike and watched as Adam drove off down the lane.

 

Twenty minutes later and she was in the garage. She had told Mike that she was tired and was just going to read in her room and go to bed. She showered, dressed in a simple pair of jeans and sneakers, and tiptoed down the stairs. She passed the gym and heard clinking and the occasional grunt and figured Mike was making good use of the weights. At least someone was, her father had spent thirty thousand dollars on that gym ten years ago and had maybe spent ten minutes total in there since.

 

She opened the back door quietly and closed it. There were sensors on all of the doors, but they were meant to keep people out, not in. Dakota knew the codes and she rearmed the door before closing it behind her. She hurried to the garage and walked passed all the ridiculous cars her father had bought and never driven, and found her little Prius parked all the way in the back. The Prius was silent under five miles an hour, so she turned it on, left the garage, and slowly, silently, with the lights off, drove down the driveway and out into freedom.

 

One she was free of the gate, Dakota lowered all of the windows in her car, turned on the lights and sped up. The wind whipped her hair around as music blasted from the stereo. She let herself relax into the seat and drove down the lane, feeling like a bird who had finally managed to break free of its cage.

 

Adam had only made it about twenty feet off the Kane compound when he felt his cellphone buzz in his pocket. Annoyed, he pulled his bike over and turned it off. He figured it was Mike who had some questions about something in the house. He wanted nothing more than to ignore it; he had big plans to just drive. It was a beautiful and cool night and he wanted to take full advantage of it. He also thought it might be good to get away from Dakota for a night. He was watching her constantly, more than was probably necessary. He didn’t like Dakota Kane; spoiled party girls weren’t really his type, but he couldn’t deny how beautiful she was. The curve of her back, the swoop of her neck, the way her ass looked when she walked, he needed to stop thinking about it, about her. He just needed a break. Maybe if he saw someone else, it would make him stop imagining that she was standing in front of him wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around her, her hair and skin still wet from the shower. She would stand before him and slowly drop the towel...

 

“Yeah,” he said into the phone. It was Joey, something about the club, nothing bad, just an update. But Adam wasn’t listening. His mouth had fallen open because he could have sworn he just saw Dakota Kane in her Prius drive past him.

 

“Joey, I gotta go,” he said ending the call and calling Mike in one swift movement. He felt something swelling in his chest; it was anger mixed with disbelief. Where was she going that she couldn’t tell him? Why would she sneak out of the house? Didn’t she know she was in charge, that he would have taken her anywhere she needed to go.

 

Unless...the thought hit him, and settled uncomfortably in his stomach. He knew there was really only place she could be going, one thing she could be doing. She was going to meet someone. A man, some secret fling she had on the side. Was Adam really so dumb to think that a woman like Dakota Kane stayed on her couch on a Saturday night? Did he actually think she was single and, therefore, might have had a shot? Obviously Dakota Kane wasn’t the type of woman who needed to work for a man’s attention. She could have any man she wanted with the snap of her perfect fingers. All she would have to say was “meet me” and any man would have jumped up to do her bidding.

 

“Mike, is she in the house?” Adam asked, cutting off any pleasantries.

 

“Said she wanted to read and stay in tonight. Haven't heard anyone leave, the alarms are set and nothing’s gone off.”

 

“It’s her house. She knows how to disable the alarms.”

 

“Shit,” he could imagine Mike walking through the Kane house, jogging up from the weight room to her bedroom. He heard Mike knock on the door and call out, “Miss Kane?” There was no answer.

 

“Open the door,” Adam ordered.

 

“Miss Kane,” Mike called out again. “Shit, she left. I was around, Adam. She knew where I was; if she wanted to go anywhere, I would have taken her.”

 

“It’s not on you, Mike. She clearly snuck out. I’ll track her down, you stay there and call me if she shows up.”

 

“Got it, boss,” Mike answered. Adam called the security company that handled the Kane’s mansion. He gave them the password and answered about a dozen security questions, but they told him the back door had been deactivated and then reactivated. The good news was that Dakota’s car had a GPS in it and the GPS was on. According to the security company, the car was parked at a lot on Market Street near the giant Macy’s in Center City. Shaking his head in annoyance Adam revved his bike as loud as he could and took off for the city.

 

He got to the parking lot and found the Prius, but no Dakota. He knew she was inside shopping, but she would need to get her car. She couldn’t leave it here overnight. He needed to talk to her, to convince her that he was on her side. He had arrived at the garage five minutes ago and had changed his strategy about five times. At first he was going to wait for her at the Prius. She would come walking up to the car shopping bags in hand and he would take her by the arm and remind her that they weren’t playing around. This wasn’t a game, someone had tried to murder her father, and she couldn’t ditch her security. He would tell her that if she wanted to go meet someone, Adam wouldn’t stop her; he knew how to be discrete. Problem was, every time he got the part about this hypothetical other guy, he had the strongest urge to punch the cement wall next to him. Was he really going to drive her to some guy’s house for a hookup? The answer had to be yes, he reminded himself. This was his job; he couldn’t be a jealous boyfriend. He wasn’t her boyfriend; he was her employee; and one she didn’t seem to like very much.

 

Then he thought about having the security company unlock the door so he could hide in the backseat and surprise her. But then he figured that as mad as he was, it would be incredibly cruel to do that to someone who had just seen their father brutally attacked. The best option was a female bodyguard for nights like this. But, while Adam had female bartenders and servers, none of them were trained to be bodyguards. He would have to remedy that, but that would take time.

 

When Dakota emerged from the elevator, Adam still wasn’t sure what his play was going to be. All of the sudden she was there and he had no ideas. He was lost in looking at her. This was the most relaxed he had ever seen her; she looked positively normal, wearing blue skinny jeans, a blue and white striped top, and black flats with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She could have been any woman shopping; she could have been Adam’s girlfriend, out buying him a gift. She was carrying a large Macy’s bag in her hand, but he couldn’t see what she had purchased. He watched as she got into the car and started the engine. She hadn’t seen him, had no idea he was there, so when she left the parking lot, Adam was following behind her.

 

She continued down Broad Street. She was a careful driver; she stopped at yellows and always used her turn signals. She let people in and didn’t cut anyone off. If there was anything Adam appreciated, it was good driving. He followed her for a few blocks and then wondered what exactly he was going to do. Was he going to confront her in the lobby of her hookup’s building? Sure, great idea; that wouldn’t be awkward at all. Maybe he would order her to go home, maybe he would demand to see this guy’s apartment, tell her he needed to check everything out. Yes, that was a great idea, get a real good look at whoever she was hooking up with, and really take the time to appreciate this guy’s penthouse apartment in the best part of town. This way Adam could easily compare it to his two-bedroom apartment in an “up and coming” neighborhood. For the first time, Adam began to wonder if this job was out of his depth.

 

But she kept driving south, past the high rises and the good neighborhoods. He kept expecting her turn signal, but she just kept going. The cars around them thinned out and Adam gave himself more distance even though it was the last thing he wanted. It shouldn’t have taken him this long to realize where they were going. He had the address memorized; he had lived there from eight to eleven, until his uncle had been released from prison and came and got him.

 

Before it had been turned into the Kane Home for Boys, the building had been an all-girls school – a finishing school where privileged young ladies learned the correct way to drink tea and send out invitations or do whatever it was that girls did with themselves back then. Dakota’s grandmother had bought it in the fifties when the city had been at one of its lowest points. She had turned it into a home for boys. It had been one of the first mixed race orphanages in existence. Adam couldn’t complain. When he had stayed there, the place had been as nice as a place like that could be. There had been TVs and computers, a basketball court, tutors to help with homework. But it was still an orphanage. The kids who stayed there had lost parents, or been abandoned by them. They had known too much darkness in their childhood to appreciate the light.

 

After Adam left, he never came back. He had lived with his uncle, helping in the auto-shop and joining the club when he was old enough to drive. He never thought he would come back here. He felt numb, disconnected, like he had been separated from his body, like he was watching himself watching Dakota. Then, things got weird.

 

Adam had parked on the other side of the street, and Dakota had no idea he was watching her. She jumped out the car and pulled a brand new teddy bear of its packaging. She took the bear and hit it against the car several times. She grabbed it by its arms and pulled on it, and then she was grabbing chunks of its fake fur and pulling, like she was trying to rip it off. She was unhappy with her progress; she kept looking at the bear and shaking her head and then abusing it again.

 

Slowly Adam got off his bike and walked towards her. Her back was too him and his boots were silent on the pavement. She was hunched over the bear, trying to further torture it when Adam calmly said, “Hey.”

 

“Jesus Christ!” Dakota screamed, jumping up and turning around holding the bear at arm’s length like it could protect her in some way. When she saw who it was, she breathed out and stared daggers at him. “Don’t sneak up on me like that. God, I think my heart actually stopped.”

 

“You know what helps avoid having someone sneak up on you?” Adam asked. “Having your bodyguard with you.”

 

“I was just running a quick errand,” Dakota said, allowing herself to relax. “How did you find me? Did you follow me?”

 

“You drove right past me. I checked the GPS location of your car. I’ve been following you since Macy’s.”

 

“Stupid, dumb technology,” she muttered.

 

“What’s up with the bear?” Adam asked. “Did it offend you or your family in some way?”

 

“It’s for a kid in there. It’s a long story. He wants his Blinky Bear, but the bear is currently being used as evidence in a criminal trial. I called in a few favors to get this, but it looks too new. He’ll know it’s not his.”

 

“You can rough it up all you want, but it won’t smell like home.”

 

“I was going to tell him the bear took a trip to the cleaners to look nice for him and that’s why it smells different,” she said using the back of her hand to toss a stray strand of hair off of her forehead.

 

“Sounds like a solid plan. You could have told me or Mike and we would have come with you. You really shouldn’t be sneaking off at night.”

 

“Look, no offense, but those kids in there have experienced some rough stuff. And I can’t have you bring a gun in there, or be looking at everyone with suspicion. It’s just not a good vibe for them, you know?” Dakota said.

 

And then Adam understood; she thought him tough and intimidating. She thought he wouldn’t know how to act around the kids in there. She had no idea that he had been one of those kids once, but why would she? He had never told her. She had no idea how ill he felt just standing next to the building, or how he had tortured himself by thoughts of her with another man. She thought he was just another hired gun.

 

“Yeah. I know,” Adam said, “And you know that I can leave my gun locked in the glove compartment and dial down the suspicious looks. You just have to talk to me and tell me what you want.”

 

“I want to drive,” she said staring at him.

 

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen,” he answered with a shake of his head. And she couldn’t help but smile.

 

“Do you think this bear looks rough enough?” she asked. Adam took it in his hands; she had done a good job on it. The fur was thin in some spots, but he knew what this kid’s actual toy had looked like. There had probably been cigarette burns on it, beer spilled on it, it would have a musty smell from being left out on the porch in the rain.

 

“I think it looks great; give him the cleaners’ story. He’ll buy it.”

 

“Thanks,” she said. “Do you want to come in? You can leave the gun in my glove compartment.”

 

Adam finally allowed himself to look up at the building. In twenty years, it hadn’t changed. It was an imposing brick building about eight stories tall. There were bars on the windows, but, still, they had tried to make it look nice. Blue and white curtains hung from the windows and the lights were still on in many of the rooms. He wondered what the game room looked like now, if they still had the garden on the roof. He wanted to know and didn’t want to know all at the same time.

 

“I’ll wait out here, if you promise to come out this door when you’re done.”

 

“Promise,” she answered gently taking the bear back from him.

 

“You’re sure you’re okay to wait outside?” she asked.

 

“Yeah,” he answered, grateful his voice didn’t crack.

 

She turned slowly and walked up the front steps, using a swipe card to let herself in. When the door opened ,warm light spilled out into the street and over Dakota’s thin frame. It was winter when Adam had been moved to the Kane Home for Young Boys. It had snowed a few days before, and there was slush and dirty snow everywhere. The last time he had seen his family, they had been scrambling around the house, screaming at each other and flushing drugs down anything that had a drain: the sink, the toilet, the shower. And then a loud banging on the door. Adam had been crying to his mother; he had no idea what was happening. His last view of her had been her red face screaming at him to be quiet, her hair a mess around her head. Adam had gone to his parents’ room and hunkered down in the closet. Everything smelled like the menthols they smoked. It was quiet and dark in the closet, which Adam found comforting. When the police broke down the door and shouted orders, Adam had tried his hardest to make himself invisible. He hugged his sides and closed his eyes, and when a cop inevitably checked the closet, they found him curled up in a ball so tight he retained that shape as someone picked him up and carried him out to the car. His father had died in prison. His mother got out five years later and skipped town; he had never seen her again.

 

It was his Uncle Bill, his father’s younger brother that came and got him. Bill had been doing five for running coke; he was denied parole for fighting in prison, but when heard where Adam was, he cleaned up his act and got out. He got a job and an apartment and promised Adam would never have to go back.

 

The house was quiet inside; it was lights out and most of the boys were in bed. The young four year old who had been pulled in earlier that day was curled up and asleep with his head resting on Elizabeth’s lap, his arms holding his teddy bear tightly to his chest.

 

“Thank you,” Elizabeth said. “Where did you find the bear? We couldn’t get one anywhere.”

 

“I know people,” Dakota said. What she didn’t add was that anytime there was some hot new toy or gadget that everyone wanted, store managers would hold a few back and either give them away to gather favors or sell them at a high markup. That little boy was currently holding a hundred dollar teddy bear. “Does he have anyone, family?”

 

“An aunt, but she’s in the Navy, doing a tour in the gulf. She’s getting compassionate leave to come and get him; she should be here in a week.”

 

“Good,” Dakota said, she glanced toward the door and thought about Adam alone in the parking lot. She wondered what he did in the hours he had to wait on her.

 

“You know you can bring your fella in here, right?”

 

“First of all, Ma Clampet, he’s not my fella; he’s been hired for protection. I told him he could come in, but he didn’t want to.”

 

“Pretty hot for a bodyguard. What’s his name?”

 

“Adam Mendel.”

 

“Well, you shouldn’t keep him waiting. I’ll take this little guy off to bed and you can go home. We need to go over the quarterly report, but it’s late. We can do that tomorrow.”

 

“Yeah, okay,” Dakota said. But for a moment, she didn’t move. Things were now weird with Adam. She had snuck out of the house and been caught like some belligerent teenager. He had been surprisingly cool about it, though, so she wasn’t sure what their relationship would be like now. But she couldn’t hide from him forever, so she gave Elizabeth a wave and walked out into the night.

 

Adam was still there waiting, looking like a giant next to her tiny car. He was lost in thought, staring at the street. She had the sudden urge to sneak up on him to get him back for sneaking up on her, but he had such a troubled look on his face that she didn’t want to be cruel. So she walked down the stairs slowly, giving him a chance to come out of his reverie on his own.

 

“So, do you want to drive?” she asked, gesturing to the car.

 

“Actually, I need to get my bike home, so why don’t you drive your car, and I’ll follow.”

 

“Okay,” Dakota slid into her seat and watched as Adam walked over to his bike, put his helmet up and revved the engine.

 

He followed her home, keeping a safe distance on the quiet street roads. When they were on the highway, he opened it up and pulled alongside her. Dakota couldn’t see his face under his helmet, but every now and then she could see his visor when he turned to make sure she was still there.

 

“Don’t turn off the GPS in your car,” he ordered gently once they were back at the house in the garage. “It’ll make me look bad if I lose you.”

 

“Fair enough,” Dakota answered. “And I’m sorry I snuck out tonight. It was silly and immature.”

 

“I can see how you might feel a little trapped.”

 

“Thanks for being cool about it. I owe you one.”

 

“Really?” Adam said looking around the garage.

 

Dakota’s stomach dropped as she wondered if he was going to actually ask her for something. She couldn’t help but look at him again, his strong and tall physique, she wasn’t entirely sure what she would say if he asked.

 

“Can I take that Caddy for a spin?”

 

“What?” Dakota answered.

 

“The convertible Cadillac, that’s a good car; tonight's a good night for a late night, top down ride.”

 

“Oh...yeah, sure. We never drive that car. I think the last time was for homecoming, I was the...” she stopped, suddenly embarrassed about her high school bragging rights.

 

“Queen?” he finished for her, a smirk crossing his face.

 

“If you must know, yes. I was Homecoming Queen. And you can take the car anywhere you want. Just try not to crash it.” She walked over to the lock box where the keys were kept and opened it, pulling the Cadillac's keys from off the pegboard. She walked back to Adam and held them out to him, but he just looked at her.

 

“You wanna come for a ride?”

 

“To where?” she asked. She didn’t know what was happening. She wasn’t sure what she should be doing, what the right answer was. She didn’t know what his intentions were. Adam was handsome, but he was also working for her. Things could get awkward quickly.

 

“Anywhere, it’s a car. You just drive it. I know this cool back road not far from here. It’ll be a nice drive.”

 

“OK,” Dakota answered, unsure of what exactly she was getting herself into.

 

She walked over to the car with Adam and he opened the passenger side door, and she slid inside, taking a look at the old fashioned insides. Adam slid into the driver’s side and started the car, lowering the roof above them until it was gone and their heads were exposed to the ceiling of the garage. Dakota could feel a fluttering in her stomach, like she was a teenager again, getting into a car with a boy, with no idea of what might come next.

 

Without saying anything Adam started the car, driving the shift stick like he was a pro. Dakota had never quite managed driving stick; if she were lucky, she could get it moving one out of every three tries. But Adam didn’t even think about it. His feet hit the pedals and his hands worked the shifter like he had been raised behind the wheel. In an instant they were out of the garage and in the open air. The night was cool, but not cold, and the air around them had that heavy wetness that came with spring rains.

 

Adam drove north and west, the skyline of the city disappearing in the rear view mirror, as Dakota allowed herself to get lost in the passing trees to her right. They looked like a thousand soldiers lined up to protect the forest from the people on the road. She let her eyes see past those front line soldiers and watched the natural monuments that passed behind them, large boulders and fallen trees.

 

“This is a great car,” Adam said as they veered around a tight curve. “You ever take it to the beach?”

 

“No,” Dakota answered with a smile. The beaches she went to were tropical locals and private; she took jets to get to them, not cars. “I’ve never actually driven this car.”

 

“What? Are you kidding me? All I’ve thought about since I started working for you was driving every car in that garage. You should take this car out. It’s too pretty to leave inside.”

 

“I kind of suck at driving stick.”

 

“You can’t drive stick?” His voice was equal parts outrage and gentle kidding.

 

“I can drive stick. I’m just not good at it,” she said.

 

“Practice is how you get good at it.”

 

“Thanks, Dad,” Dakota said, rolling her eyes. “I don’t know. I always thought driving was kind of boring. You can’t read or watch TV. All you see is the road. It’s like a chore.”

 

“You do a lot of chores in your mansion? What are they, driving and then washing your pony?”

 

“Ouch, and painfully accurate,” she couldn’t help but smile at the memory of Buttercup and Violet, the two ponies she had as a child.

 

“You have a pony?”

 

“I did, but I’m older now...I have horses.”

 

“Such a cliché.”

 

“Hey, horses are cool, and riding a horse is way harder and way more fun than driving a car.”

 

“Your horse has one horsepower. This car has over four hundred and fifty horses. It’s like there’s four hundred horses under the hood of this car.”

 

“Well, more is not necessarily better. Besides, I always thought it was weird that they measured cars in horses. I mean four hundred and fifty? That’s a lot, seems to me like we need a new measuring system.”

 

“Says the girl who thinks driving is a chore. Why should you get any say in that? You hate cars.”

 

“I don’t hate cars. I like my Prius.”

 

“You have no idea what you’re missing.” Adam shook his head, keeping his eyes on the road.

 

“Maybe,” she answered, smiling at him. They drove for a few minutes in a comfortable silence. The car was smooth and quiet, hugging the curves and absorbing the bumps and shocks in the road. Dakota looked straight up and could see the moon above them, the dark night sky dotted with stars. She wondered what would happen if they kept driving. If they stuck to country back roads and filled up at old-fashioned gas stations and just kept driving. She supposed they would eventually reach an ocean and then they would have to turn back around. Still, thinking about it as she watched the budding branches pass above her, she wasn’t sure if she would have minded driving for days.

 

“You know, when you snuck out today, I thought you were going to meet a man,” Adam said, making Dakota whip her head around to look at him with a shocked expression. “I’ll look into getting a female guard. I don’t want you to feel like you have to sneak around.”

 

“You don’t have to worry about that. I’m not seeing anyone at the moment and, if I were, they could come to me.” Was is just her imagination, or did something in his aspect change at that, at the understanding that there wasn’t anyone she was interested in.

 

“Oh, okay. Well, you can just let me know if that changes,” Adam said, sounding incredibly uncomfortable. Dakota couldn’t help but laugh. “What?” Adam demanded.

 

“Nothing, you just sound very old fashioned.”

 

“I’m not old fashioned. I’m telling you I’m cool with it, just let me know.”

 

“You’re cool with it?”

 

“Yup.”

 

“Okay, let’s stop at the next bar we find and I’ll find someone who really pushes my buttons,” Dakota said with a laugh. “You can vet him.”

 

“Oh, sorry no bars around here,” Adam said, a smile playing across his face.

 

“Convenient. What about you, is there some lady in a leather jacket missing you at night?”

 

“Nope, only the guys I work with miss me. And not like that! We have a lot of business stuff going on, one of which is you. So, there’s no real time for a leather jacket lady in my life.”

 

“What business? Being a bodyguard?”

 

“And some other stuff,” Adam paused, debating whether or not to tell her. “You remember that club we were at?”

 

“Scarred Angels?”

 

“Yeah, I own that. Well, technically the bank owns it. But it’s doing well, so hopefully I’ll own it soon. But it’s a lot of work to run a club on the level.”

 

“Wow,” Dakota said. “That’s your club? I didn’t know you owned that. You should have said something.”

 

“Like I said, the bank owns it. I didn't want to make a big deal out of it,” Adam said, trying to brush the compliment away.

 

“You should make a big deal about it. It’s a nice club. I had a lot of fun there. You should be proud of it.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“And I call bullshit on you not having a lady. You own a hot nightclub. You have to be beating pretty young things off with a stick.”

 

“Well, at the moment, I’m not spending a lot of time there, so there hasn’t been much opportunity.”

 

Dakota nodded, feeling oddly guilty, though she didn’t have any reason to. Adam was working in the time he was spending with her; no one was making him do it, unless he needed the money. Don’t, she reminded herself; don’t assume anything about him. But it all too often happened like this: a mention here, a nod there, then the outright ask, and then the anger when Dakota said no to a “loan” for money she knew she would never see again. It was true that rich hung out with each other. It was sad, but those were the only people you could (usually) count on to not hit you up for money.

 

“What about you?” Adam continued as they traveled farther and farther from the city. There was no GPS on, they had no destination, and they were just driving the night away. “There’s really nobody you’d rather be spending your night with?”

 

“Not really. It’s hard when you have a lot of money. And I know I’m privileged and there’s a lot that I don’t have to worry about that other people do, but it’s harder to be close with people. So often I meet some guy and he’s great, but what he really wants is to get close to my father. Guys want an investment backer or a job or a recommendation. It was like I was this stepping-stone for them. When I tried dating “normal” guys, the money thing was always coming up and it was weird and awkward, and I would tell them that I didn’t care that they didn’t have as much money as me, but even though I didn’t care, they did. It just doesn’t work. Besides, charity is work for me. It’s not about good publicity. It means something to me and it takes up a lot of my time. People think I can just put it down anytime I want. I once had a guy tell me it wasn’t a real job, so I could skip it whenever he wanted to do something else, and that hurt. So for now, being single works for me.”

 

Dakota let out a long breath. She had never actually said all of that out loud before. She had thought it, and the words were always tumbling about in her head, but she had never actually put those thoughts together before. It occurred to her that it sounded very sad, sad and isolating. She wondered how long it had been since she had a real relationship, not just dinner, drinks, and sex, but holding hands and talking, whispering into a lover's ear late into the night. Waiting for them, wanting to be with them. Somewhere in the last few years, she had decided that she wasn’t ever going to have that, and so she closed and locked that part of her away, the part of her that believed that real, true love was possible. It had been so long since she’d even entertained the idea of having a meaningful connection with someone.

 

They allowed a comfortable silence to blanket them as Adam drove the car down back roads that twisted themselves up and down hills, over rivers and under mountains. The car was quiet and the ride was smooth. The stars overhead were eternal and unmoving, always in the same place above them no matter where they drove. The cool, wet air around them, the sound of crickets and birds chirping their coded languages out into the night created a soundtrack that no musician could ever compete with.

 

Dakota glanced at Adam; he had one hand on top of the wheel, the other resting on the shifter. His hands seemed impossibly large, and Dakota was fascinated with how they worked. His right hand would rest on the shifter and then, without warning, he would change gears, his hands and feet working in perfect harmony. The car never jerked or bucked, but transitioned from one gear to the next with a beautiful smoothness.

 

But it was getting late, and Adam noticed when Dakota stifled a yawn.

 

“We should probably get back,” he admitted, finally turning on the GPS and allowing it to guide them home.

 

“I’m sorry I made you work on your one day off,” Dakota said as the car took them home.

 

“It’s okay,” Adam said with a shrug. “You haven't been that much work, honestly.”

 

“Do you even like being a bodyguard? It seems kind of boring.”

 

“It is kind of boring, but the money is good, and it’s good for business. Being a bodyguard is good, legal, steady income. I got a lotta guys who need work, so we don’t turn it down when we get it.”

 

“Guys?” Dakota asked.

 

“Yeah, guys in the bike club. We run the Scarred Angels together. They practically raised me, but there’s not enough work at the club for everyone. Being a bodyguard’s a good opportunity.”

 

“What about your parents?” Dakota asked. She had spent years working in the Kane Home for Young Boys and she knew how this worked: the casual offhand mention of parents not being around, not being involved. It was a type of code abused children used. It was like looking at the sun; they didn’t want to talk about it directly, so instead, they talked around it, mentioned it in an offhand manner.

 

“Jail. Dad’s dead. Mom’s gone. My uncle raised me; he’s a good guy.”

 

Dakota nodded, but said nothing. She knew better than to pry. She knew he would tell her when he wanted to, when he was ready to. In charity, she had learned that it was dangerous and selfish to be a voyeur. Listening to people wasn't about gathering their stories to use later. It was simply about letting them know you were there when they wanted to talk, making yourself available to them, giving yourself to them and asking for nothing in return.

 

“Does your uncle work at the club?”

 

“He’s the manager,” Adam answered. “He’s good at it.”

 

“Maybe I can meet him one day,” Dakota said, and then she let the topic drop.

 

They were almost home already. The GPS was not interested in lazy drives or enjoying the night air. It wanted to get them home in the most efficient way possible. It was good at its job, and Dakota cursed it in her mind. She felt like she could have driven with Adam all through the night and into the next day.

 

They drove slowly down the main driveway and into the house. “Oh no,” Dakota said, as they pulled into the driveway and she could see that Mike’s bike was gone. “Did me sneaking out get Mike into trouble?”

 

“Well, it doesn’t make him look good, but he’s not going to get fired over it. He’ll just have to deal with the guys giving him shit for letting a girl sneak past him.”

 

“Girls are sneaking out experts; that’s the first thing you should tell them.”

 

Adam laughed, “Boys are pretty good at it, too.” They were stopped behind the garage. There was a sensor that would open the garage door, so cars could get inside but they hadn’t driven passed it yet. Silence overtook them as Adam cut the engine and sat back, looking up at the night sky above them.

 

Dakota looked where he was a looking, at a patch of sky where the tops of trees met the horizon. She allowed herself to settle into her seat as she realized she hadn’t thought about her father or the hit the entire drive. She felt relaxed and comfortable and even though the car was parked she didn’t want to leave it. She leaned back into the comfortable leather seats and closed her eyes for a moment. Crickets chirped loudly around them, and the air was cool. It was a perfect night, and it was then that she felt Adam’s hand on her cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. The gesture was so intimate and so delicate; it sent shivers down Dakota’s spine.

 

Her eyes still closed, she leaned into his soft and gentle touch. He cupped her cheek with his hand and stroked her cheekbone with his thumb as Dakota let out a sigh. She felt his other hand come to rest on her knee and then squeeze it. Then, with long, lazy gestures, he stroked her thigh, stopping occasionally to squeeze her gently. Dakota finally opened her eyes and turned to look at Adam, at his dark eyes and strong jaw. Slowly Adam leaned over and placed his lips on hers. He kissed her gently, kissing her lips, her cheek, her jaw, before coming back to her mouth. He kissed her again, deeper this time sliding his tongue between her lips where it found hers and together they slid and glided along each other.

 

Dakota brought her hand up and ran it down Adam’s strong arm and then his chest. She could feel the bulge of his muscles underneath his shirt. His pectorals, and his abs were hard against her soft fingers. Adam’s hand left her thigh and rested it for a moment on her stomach before sneaking up and underneath her shirt. His fingers danced across her flat stomach and then he reached farther up to caress her breasts over the thin bra she was wearing, still kissing her all the while.

 

His skin was hidden under clothes, and her clothes restricted his touch on her breasts. She wanted there to be nothing between them. She wanted to feel his hands directly on her skin. She wanted to run her hands up and down his arms and over his chest and feel the heat from him. She wanted to touch him and be touched by him. She wanted to have him inside of her, rocking and moving from within her.

 

She brought her hands up to his face and kissed him deeply, running her tongue over his, biting and sucking on his lower lip. His hands became frantic running up and down her back, sneaking up under her shirt and grabbing her and pulling her close. She felt his strong arm find the clasp of her bra and with one expert motion he unsnapped it and she felt it come loose.

 

“Let’s get in the back,” she whispered.

 

And he nodded opening his door and walking around to hers and opening it up for her. She slid her feet out and stood up. Adam grabbed her by the arm and pulled her away from the car, closing the door and then pushing her back against the car to begin to kissing her neck. He started at her jaw and moved down, biting, sucking, and kissing his way towards the nape of her neck. He kissed her there, and she gasped, pushing herself into him. He stroked the nape of her neck with his tongue, bit down on it and she moaned for more.

 

Dakota grabbed Adam’s jacket and began to pull it off him, revealing the tight t-shirt he wore underneath, and he broke away from her to take the shirt off exposing his firm chest and stomach. Dakota reached up and stroked his chest, her fingers tracing the lines of his muscles and she felt him shudder from the attention. While she touched him, Adam’s hands found their way to her shirt and he lifted the garment up and off, taking her bra with it. Dakota gasped as her delicate skin was exposed to the cool night air and she gasped again when Adam took her breasts in his hands and began to massage one while taking the other his mouth. His tongue ran over her nipple making it stand hard. Dakota moaned and ran her hands through his hair, whispering his name over and over again.

 

His hands were at the button to her jeans and he undid them easily, lowering the zipper and pulling her pants down past her knees. Dakota slipped out her shoes and kicked the pants free, standing in front of him in nothing but a pair of simple black panties. Adam undid his belt, kicked off his shoes and removed his pants, his erection showing through his boxers. He leaned against Dakota and she felt his warm skin against hers, hearing him moan as she brought her hands down to his member and gently stroking it through the fabric, feeling it grow even harder from his touch. She wanted him. She was wet for him.

 

“Get in the back seat,” he whispered into her ear and Dakota was powerless to do anything else. He opened the back door and she slid inside. She sat up straight in the back seat, waiting for him. “Lie down on your back,” he instructed. Nervous and unsure, but even more curious and excited Dakota did what he said. She fell down, and felt the leather of the car on her back and could see a million stars in the sky above her. Just as she had settled down comfortably, she felt Adam’s hands at her hips, and he pulled her along the seat, closer to him.

 

He hooked his fingers into her panties and pulled them off, tossing them to the side. Then he pulled her close to him, kneeling in the grass outside of the car, and he brought Dakota’s legs up until they were resting on his shoulders. He kissed the inside of her right thigh and Dakota shuddered. Then he brought his lips and his warm mouth to her pussy before kissing here there, too.