*****
The infernal knocking on the front door to Renner’s apartment didn’t stop for a full minute. Despite his best attempts to ignore it by covering his head with the pillow.
The raging headache after downing a bottle of Tennessee Red was an ominous sign of the rest of the day.
It wasn’t nearly as bad as the pain in his chest.
The kick was that the liquor had failed to chase away the nightmares, too.
“Renner, it’s Dorian.” His friend’s muffled voice made him groan. “Open up.”
“Go away,” he screamed at the door, and instantly regretted it. The pounding seared through his brain.
“It’s five o’clock, man. When did you turn into a vampire?”
“I don’t care what time it is.”
“Don’t make me use the spare key, man. Duane asked me to check on you. Said you were talking squirrelly.”
Only a pansy man would use the word squirrelly. Renner threw the covers over his head, praying Dorian would leave.
The unmistakable sound of a key turning in his lock made him cuss.
“Shit, man. Did you bring the party back to your place or something? You got a girl in there?”
The only girl I want, won’t have anything to do with me.
“Come out here, shithead. I don’t want to see your naked ass in that bed.”
“Then leave.” He forced himself up anyway. Renner threw on a t-shirt and a pair of workout shorts. He scraped his fingers through his hair, willing the pounding to end.
Painkillers. I definitely need painkillers.
He could hear Dorian scrounging around the kitchen for something. By the time he’d left his room and turned the corner, Dorian already had a plastic cup of water on the counter for him, with two pills beside it. The hard-ass stare on his old Marine buddy matched well with his pristine suit and tie. Complete with rough stubble on his face.
Most women swooned over the dark, devilish look, but only made him want to punch the asshole. “What’re you doing here?”
Dorian nodded at the empty bottle of whiskey. “Figured you’d need these after you clearly destroyed that precious puppy.”
Renner downed them.
“What’s her name?” he asked, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed.
He glared. Then got more water.
“You weren’t this messed up after your principal got killed. Has to be about a woman.”
Renner threw his cup in the sink. “Why the hell would you bring that up?”
“Bury yourself in work. That’s the trick.”
“Not if former friends keep talking about it.”
Dorian threw him a smile, then moved to the living room. “Get dressed, pal. My client’s friend needs a date. Totally into jarheads.”
Renner pinched the bridge of his nose. “Pass.”
His friend put the empty whisky bottle and glass into the sink, and started straightening up the place.
“Stop this shit. You’re not my maid.”
“No, but we’re in a hurry, and I know you. Can’t leave your house until everything is in its place.”
“I’m not going, Dorian.”
“They’re paying double the rate. Formal event downtown. Pick out a suit, let’s go.”
“I’m out.”
His buddy stopped picking up, and stared. “What? At the dry cleaners or something?”
Renner shook his head. “I’m done. I’m turning in my cufflinks. This job isn’t for me.”
Dorian’s brow furrowed, and he shoved his hands in his pockets. “It’s always a woman that does it.”
“I appreciate you helping me out after all that mess. But I need to do something else.”
The guy’s frown gave him a vicious aura, but only because of the stubble and dark suit. His friend didn’t have a violent bone in his body, unless he was holding a rifle on tour overseas. “I know this role takes an adjustment. But it’s not the traditional escort agency. Being a Knight is more…substantial. Your heart is in the right place, man. It just takes time.”
“There’s not enough time in the world for me to forget this. Find someone else.”
Dorian’s frown deepened, but there was a small acquiescence in his stare. “Then at least come as my friend, tonight. I need a wingman.”
Renner bit the inside of his cheek. He was on the verge of shaking his head.
“Murphy,” Dorian added.
He sighed. “Of course, you’d use that.” Their code word for a personal favor, man to man. Soldier to soldier. After their friend, Murphy, had taken six bullets in the back in Afghanistan while covering their cherry asses during an evac that’d become a slaughterhouse. No one from their unit said it unless they really needed backup. “As a friend. Nothing more.”
Twenty minutes and a shower later, Renner reluctantly splashed on aftershave. He hadn’t put much effort into his hair this time, and he’d grabbed his least favorite tie. A fitting sentiment for the night.
He grabbed his black stone cufflinks, and scowled as he put them on. Then he slipped on his coat.
Dorian started talking from the living room.
“Are you speaking to yourself out there?” Renner called. “Cause I can’t hear a word.”
“Renner, you have a guest.”
He came out of the bathroom, and turned the corner.
Then froze.
His buddy held open the door, with Cassie in the entryway. Slack jawed.