Reece
I pull into the underground parking garage of my new job, Rogue Security and Investigation. After climbing out of my car—my pride and joy, a red 1967 Shelby GT500—I make my way to the elevator and ride it up to the top floor.
The place is seriously incredible. It’s all modern: glass, black, and chrome. There’s a woodsy scent in the air. A beautiful blonde sits behind the desk just outside the elevators. “Good morning,” she says. “You must be Mr. Meyers. Mr. Mackenzie said you’d be joining us today.” She holds out a couple of what look like credit cards to me. “Here are your keycards. The black one will get you on the elevator in the future—they kept them unlocked when they saw you coming on the monitors. The silver card will get you through any door in the back.”
I take the cards from her. “Thanks.”
“Mr. Mackenzie knows you’re here and said to go on back to his office. It’s down the first hall, last door on the right. Welcome to Rogue Security and Investigation.”
“Thank you, um…”
“My name is Carrie. My husband, Egan, is one of the computer specialists here.”
I stick my hand out and she shakes it. That’s when I see she’s pregnant. “Nice meeting you, Carrie, and congratulations.”
She gives me a bright smile before I use my card to get into the back. The first thing I notice is that it’s real quiet here. I was expecting it to be bustling, but instead it seems laid-back. I turn to the right and see closed office doors with nameplates on them. I find Jack’s and give a knock.
“Come in,” I hear, muffled from inside.
When I open the door, I find Jack standing behind his desk. Jack Mackenzie is a buddy of mine from my Army days—we were both Special Forces and did two tours together before he was honorably discharged for taking a bullet to the hip, shattering it and leaving him to get it replaced at thirty-eight years old. That was three years ago.
When I left the Army a year ago, I’d been aimless while I tried to readjust to civilian life. Luckily, I had a nice little nest egg saved while I figured out what the fuck I wanted to do with my life. My parents, being the sweet people they are, let me stay with them temporarily in my hometown of DeWitt, Illinois. Was I thrilled to be living with my parents at thirty-three? No, but it was only temporary, so I could deal.
Six months ago, Jack contacted me, and I drove up to Chicago to meet him for dinner and to discuss his business. At first, I had assumed I’d be a glorified security guard—and if that was the case, I wasn’t going to take the job—but then he showed me all the information about his company. In three years, he’d taken it from three employees to a group of fifteen. There are two computer experts, three bounty hunters, and ten private investigators. He also uses off-duty law enforcement officers when needed.
I went home and thought about it, then drove back out a month later to sign my contract. I’m just now starting because I had to get licensed as a private investigator. I found a house and moved to Oak Park, a suburb of Chicago. I would’ve loved to live in the city, but for what I would pay for an apartment I could easily buy a house, so that’s what I did.
Now that I can size him up face to face again, I see my former Army buddy still looks great. His hair is more silver than blond since he was discharged, and the crow’s feet around his brown eyes are a little more pronounced. He comes around to greet me with a back slap and a hug. “Glad you’re finally here, brother.”
“Thanks, man. I’m happy as hell to be here and ready to get started.”
“Come have a seat.” I sit in the chair next to him, turning it until we’re facing each other. “Did you get all unpacked?”
Jack and some of the guys helped me unload the moving truck and set up my furniture. “Yeah, I did. Thanks again for bringing the guys to help. I appreciate it.”
“Not a problem. We were happy to help. Erik’s going to take you with him today and just kind of show you around. My plan is to have my daughter get your paperwork all together to fill out.”
“Daughter? I didn’t know you had any kids. Especially one that’s old enough to work here.”
He laughs. “Yeah, I was twenty when her mom got pregnant. We were young and it didn’t last, so it’s not something I like to talk about.” A solemn expression crosses his face, but then he shakes his head. “But Delilah moved here two years ago, and it’s been great. And I’m going to be a grandpa in about four months, actually.”
“Congrats, man. Does that mean we should expect to see you in big old man cardigans and bifocals?”
He laughs and gives me a shove. “Fuck you, asshole. Let’s go. I’ll introduce you to Erik.”
Erik is a tall Viking-looking motherfucker. I’m a big guy, but he makes me feel like a shrimp. His blond hair is shaved close to the scalp, just like my own dark brown hair. I’ve never seen eyes more intense than this guy’s piercing ice blue ones. He reaches his hand out. “I’m Erik. Nice meeting you.”
“Reece. Nice meeting you too.”
“Come on, I’ll take you around.” Side by side, we make our way toward the elevator and head down to the parking garage. He spots my car and freezes. “Is that a Shelby?”
I grin. “Yep, that’s my baby. You wanna take a look at it?” He’s like a kid at Christmas; he actually runs toward it. As he trails his hand lovingly over the red paint, he walks around the car slowly. I unlock the door and pop the hood. “Take a look at the engine. My dad and I rebuilt it.”
“If you’re not doing anything tonight after dinner, you ought to come by my place. I’ve got a 1970 Chevy Impala.”
“I’m still unpacking, but fuck yeah, I want to see it. Let’s do it soon.”
I lock up my baby and we move across the garage to a souped-up black Explorer. We drive around, and he shows me different areas and the businesses we do the security for. During the ride, Erik tells me he’s a Marine who served two tours before he got out.
“Most of the guys are former military, except for Carrie’s husband,” he says. “He used to do freelance work for the government. The guy is fucking smart. I figure if their kid looks like her with his brains, he or she will rule the world.”
We stop at Portillo’s for lunch. After picking up our food, we grab a table and conversation is stalled while we eat. This is the best Italian beef I’ve ever had, and if I were alone, I’d probably moan around each bite.
“So, is Egan the only one married?” I ask after wiping my mouth and tossing my napkin down.
“No, Scott and Will are both married, but the rest of us are single. What about you?”
I shake my head. “No, I’m not married, and very single.”
“Good. We all tend to go out a lot together…have card games and what have you. You’ll notice we’re a close-knit group. It’s just like the military: we’re brothers.”
“That’s why I came to work here. That’s one thing I miss about my Army days…the brotherhood.”
“I hear you. I met Jack through a mutual friend and we got to talking. He asked me about my future, and to be honest, I had no fucking idea what I wanted to do. Him offering me the job came at the right time, because I was just sitting around with my thumb up my ass—unsure about everything and missing the hell out of my brothers. I’m now the head of investigation and surveillance, and I fucking love it.”
We take off and head back to the office. I use my keycard to get us on the elevator and upstairs. He then takes me around to meet some of the guys.
Egan is not what I pictured at all. I assumed that, him being the computer expert and all, he’d be nerdish, not built like a brick shit house. He’s certainly not as big as Erik, but he’s bulky.
Marcus is ex-Navy and African-American: tall, with compact muscles, light-brown skin, and hazel eyes. He does a lot of the bounty hunting and is covered in a lot of badass ink. Dalton is the next guy I meet. He’s tall, on the leaner side, sports a beard, and doesn’t look threatening at all, but he’s some sort of martial arts expert and runs surveillance with Erik.
Most of the other guys I met when they helped me move my furniture. Erik, Marcus, Dalton, and Egan had been working at the time, so they hadn’t been there.
Erik leads me into the conference room and tells me to have a seat. “I’ll go grab Del for you, so she can get you started on the paperwork. And just to warn you: there’s a ton of it.”
I reach out to shake his hand. “Thanks for showing me around today.”
“You bet. We’ll talk later.”
On a cart by the door are bottles of water. I grab one, open it, and slug down half of it before I even sit down. I hear footsteps approach and assume it must be Jack’s daughter.
The door swings open. I take one look at her, and all I can say is, “It’s you.”