Kell

 

Kell trudged back to the wood shed behind Duke’s building to gather more firewood. It was going on ten o’clock and they’d already used up what he’d hauled in earlier. Ordinarily, he’d be home by now. This would be the hour he’d meditate but his sensei had made it clear that Kell’s hours, his time, no longer belonged to him. Bounty hunters operated at all hours.

He balanced some thick pieces of wood on one arm, pushing his bicep muscle to the max. It’d been ages since he’d been the new guy, the one responsible for the grunt work. He’d begun the study of martial arts under Quick when he was eight. He’d only ever had one job, and that was at the dojo, when he’d turned sixteen. By age twenty, he was a master and able to teach the art to others. He loved it, but he knew he could do more with his skills, make a real difference using the law instead of abusing it. He’d help put scum away—like the kind he’d come across this morning—and let karma take it from there.

He heard tires moving slowly down the long driveway to Duke’s before the headlights cut off and four men got of the heavy-duty truck.

Four now… not the three who’d left. Kell deduced that the intense hunter they called Brian had caught his man. Since Kell was at the back of the property, he couldn’t get a good enough look at the new guy, but from what Kell could see he was tall, built and walked with as much confidence as the men with him. Kell shivered a bit at the drop in temperature, pulling his scarf over his mouth to keep from breathing in the frigid air. He doubled his efforts, needing to get back inside and meet his new partner.

When he came in, all heads turned in his direction, but he ignored it and went about the job Duke had asked him to do. He placed two more logs inside the fireplace and stoked the flames back to roaring before he stood and turned in their direction. Quick stepped to the front and nodded for Kell to sit at his desk. He glanced around him. Six men stood tall, he wouldn’t be the only man sitting. 

“Now that we’re all here, finally.” Duke said. “Let’s get acquainted. Then let’s get to work.”

“My name is Duke Morgan, this is my business partner, Roman Webb, aka, Quick. We own and operate this bail slash fugitive recovery business here in Atlanta and my other business partner, Judge Josephson—who you will rarely see—operates the PI business on the west side. Quick and I have been doing this job over twenty-five years. Even with all our experience and training, we can’t do this shit alone.”

Kell figured Duke was explaining this part for Brian’s guy, because he knew this information already. With his hood and scarf still on, he discreetly watched his new partner for any obvious giveaways of his character. Instead of making any facial expressions, his smooth brown face stayed impassive as he listened.

“Working with us are some of the baddest men in Atlanta.” Duke pointed. “We do have a sort of pecking order here. By seniority. Dana Cadby is our marksman, has been for seven years and he typically has command in the field. He’ll be the one training and assisting you guys at the range. The King brothers, a force all their own to be reckoned with, have been with us for four and half years. That’s Brian, retired Special Forces, as well as his older brother, Bradford. We call him Ford. Brian will be training you in hand-to-hand combat for close contact with bail-skippers. We get real up close and personal, fellas, believe me. And, Ford will train you on the computers and how to use our system to track.

“We all work together to achieve one goal. No one’s job is more important than the others. When we’re on those streets, we’re a team and we operate as one. This is no place for showboating or being a goddamn cowboy. None! Orders are followed or else injuries happen.”

Kell stood as still as the rest of them. Listening. Duke’s voice was full of authority and Kell got the impression that he wasn’t a man who took excuses or gave second chances. He’d have to do this right. No heroics, no aiming for fame, or what Duke called it, ‘being a cowboy’. That wouldn’t be an issue because Kell never cared about appearances. That was always his father’s biggest fault.

“Bail recovery is not an easy profession. It’s not for the weak. We have to get grimy and dirty in this job,” Duke continued. “It takes constant training. Physical as well as mental. Just because you’ve completed the qualifiers doesn’t mean you’re ready to do this job. My program will take you through rigorous drills and practices. Most of them are not simulated. These drills will take place in the field.”

In the field? Looks like we’ll be thrown right into the deep end. Good.

Kell loved a challenge, and while he didn’t showboat, he did like to show and prove.

“If you fail in any part of the program, you’re gone. I’m only taking two at a time to train together. So, hopefully you two can mesh well.” Duke glared at both of them. “Mesh with every one of us. Because if you can’t. You’re gone. This is a team and we all have to work together.

“So go ahead and introduce yourselves to each other and the rest of us.” Duke turned to Brian’s guy first—the reactor—and so did Kell.

Ty

 

When Ty entered Duke’s Bail Bond and Recovery he was expecting at least twenty men to be standing around in similar gear as the hunters who’d come to get him. Instead, he saw only two other men, both standing at over six feet and built the same as the others. They were the bosses. They looked older but no less dangerous. Hell, he knew what Brian himself was capable of, and if his brother was half as good as him then Ty realized that Duke only recruited the best. The one named Roman, who they called Quick, was a martial arts expert. Ty was eager to see what he could do. He also had the longest hair he’d had ever seen on a man.

Then a smaller guy cloaked in black entered, loaded down with heavy lumber. He went to the fireplace, rearranged the logs and poked at it until it was blazing warm again. He did that job with so much concentration and care that Ty thought perhaps his official position was ‘chimney keeper’.

When his job was done, he came and stood with the rest of them, listening intently to Duke’s introduction. Ty caught those light eyes watching him multiple times.  He was an interesting man, Ty could admit that. Dressed almost like a ninja in loose, thin black pants, long black hood and scarf, arranged to only show his mysterious eyes. He didn’t really know what to make of the smaller guy. He can’t be a hunter. When he came in, loaded down with all that firewood, he appeared average height. Couldn’t’ve been no taller than five-nine or five-ten with a lithe build.

Duke asked him to introduce himself to his new partner, gesturing toward the small man. Ty didn’t show his disappointment outwardly, but why would he be paired with someone he may very well have to protect? The young man must not have known what kind of position this was. He hardly looked qualified for anything. Actually, Ty couldn’t tell what he looked like. He was fully covered from head to toe.

Ty met each of their eyes before he spoke. “My name is Tyrell Jenkins. My father served with King most of his career. That’s how he and I met when I was still a boy. I’ve lived in Atlanta all my life. I’ve never thought of being a bail recovery agent before, but that doesn’t mean that I’m not interested. I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.” Ty went over and stood directly in front of the man who was to be his partner. Either for training, or permanently. “Good evening, you can call me Ty for short. And you are?”

Instead of an answer he was met with a silence that was more amusing than awkward. The man was watching him. Not arrogantly, but curiously. Ty waited while the small man sized him up. He stood stock-still as those silvery eyes started at the soles of his shoes and didn’t stop until they lingered at the top of his head. Ty smiled inside.  This man is bold. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been studied, dare he say, so appreciatively. Those damn eyes were full of intrigue and light. He’d never experienced that before. As he moved on his block, females would turn and glance at him, wink, shake their asses harder, or flirt shamelessly to see if they could bait him to turn in their direction. He’d automatically get the feeling they were working an angle on him. This man wasn’t doing that, he was sure of it.

Blue-green eyes narrowed, then widened when Ty stepped closer. He was enjoying the man’s reaction to him more than he cared to admit. “Will you make me guess your name?”

“Kellam Knight,” the man said in a voice that was sure, but slightly muffled by the scarf. “Kell for short. I’m one of sensei’s… I mean I’m, one of Quick’s students. I’m doing the program with you.”

Sensei? So he is into marital arts. Is he really a ninja?

“I see,” Ty said, watching the interesting man who’d yet to remove his fitted beanie and hood. Even his thick scarf still rested over most of his face as if he hadn’t warmed up yet from being outdoors. Ty felt a fascinating stirring in his stomach when he tried to picture what his new partner—this ninja—looked like beneath all the garments. His pulse raced at the unknown. He was confused by his reaction, but it didn’t stop him from whispering for only Kell to hear, “Show yourself to me.”

Ty heard the slight gust of breath at his words as Kell continued to stare at him. No one moved or spoke behind them, but of course all the hunters were there, watching, seeing if they clashed. Ty wasn’t sure the smaller man would do as he asked until Kell slowly raised both hands to his face. With nimble fingers, he gripped the top of the scarf and pulled it down until it was beneath his chin. Ty unconsciously licked his lips while Kell moistened his slim peach ones. The visible half of his face was youthful with not even a trace of stubble Soft. Ty waited patiently to see if Kell would remove the beanie and hood right after.

He didn’t.

Ty wasn’t upset, he was charmed. For some reason, he wanted to see more. Perhaps his new training partner felt Ty hadn’t earned that right. Who was Ty to demand the man reveal himself to him? No wonder he remained covered.

I’m no one to Kellam Knight… yet.