In a Fix (Torus Intercession 2)

“Did they both end up assaulting you?” I asked, noting the slight shudder in his broad shoulders. I wanted to comfort him, but at the same time, I didn’t want to seem too forward by touching him. It wasn’t my strong suit, being unguarded with people or offering comfort. I made people feel safe with my presence, with my self-defense skills and my gun. But I wasn’t, as a rule, a touchy-feely guy. I wasn’t the one to offer a shoulder to cry on or give a quick hug for comfort. More often than not, Jared heard that I was efficient and robotic, competent though a bit aloof, or capable but cold.

I was the guy who was up, tucked in and zipped up, anxious to escape the apartment of the hookup of the moment before the sheets cooled; the post-sex cuddle was never on the table. One guy had even told me that he had mistaken me for a human being, and that I had ice running through my veins. It was fair to say that me thawing for anyone would be a gross exaggeration. That was not who I was.

“Remember, not everyone is as strong as you’ve had to be, Esca,” my boss told me often, using my last name, as he did with all of us. “Practice empathy and mindfulness.”

God.

“Nash?” I prodded him, my hand hovering over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” he said, exhaling carefully, like it might have hurt.

“Were you attacked by both men?”

He grunted, which was as good as a yes.

“Do you need to go to the hospital?”

“I went last night,” he explained, tilting his head up so he could see me as I stepped back. “My buddy Rais took me. That’s the only reason I’m here this morning. He’s coming in to talk to Jared about filling Brann’s spot.”

“You don’t know that he’s never—”

“Yes, I do,” Nash snapped, his tone brittle, implacable, cutting Locryn off, glaring at him for good measure. “I’ve talked to him. I have an open invitation to go visit him, so—yeah, Loc, I fuckin’ know that Brann’s not coming back, all right?”

Locryn glanced away, but even though we couldn’t see his face, the wounded pride clung to him, telegraphed by his body language. If he needed something to kick, I hoped he wouldn’t opt for his solid mahogany desk. If he took a shot at that, he might break a toe.

“Good morning.”

Pivoting, I saw a man standing just inside the front door of our office.

“Good morning,” I greeted the stranger, immediately struck by the bright sepia color of his eyes. His dark bronze skin was accented beautifully by the mustard yellow scarf and camel-colored Burberry peacoat he wore.

His smile was quick, bright, but I noticed that his attention moved from me and pounced on Nash, almost immediately.

“You shouldn’t have come in,” he said, rushing by me to reach Nash. He took hold of Nash’s shoulder, then slid a hand under his chin to lift his face.

Nash growled and tilted his head back, trying to move out of the man’s grip.

“Knock it off. Let me look at you.”

“You looked at me last night,” Nash said irritably, huffing out a breath, nailing the guy with his glower. “Aren’t you supposed to be downtown, meeting Jared for breakfast?”

“For your information, I did that already,” he grumbled, squinting at Nash. “And I got the job because he liked the whole Army Ranger thing, but more importantly, it was your recommendation that sealed it.”

Nash instantly deflated. “Oh yeah?”

The two men were close; it was evident in their warm tone of voice and the glowers they were giving one another, waiting for the other guy to crack.

“Yeah,” came the retort, one dark eyebrow lifting in a dare.

After a moment, Nash grinned wide. “Hey, everybody, this is my old army buddy, Rais Solano, and he’s gonna be workin’ with us.”

Locryn gave him a head tip, Cooper moved in fast and shook Rais’s hand, Shaw was next, quick with the welcome, and then me.

And that’s when the very charming, and frankly beautiful, Rais Solano ruined my day and told me that Jared Colter wanted me to go into his office because there was a file on his desk for me. It was why I was now on a plane headed for Vegas.

I planned to argue with my boss, immediately following the requisite mocking, of course.

“Being a bodyguard in Vegas is the worst,” Locryn assured Rais. “You never leave the Strip. You walk all day, every day, and it’s an endless loop of watching people drink, gamble, vomit, buy crap they will never use, eat, then vomit again because they drank too much, go to shows, and, obviously, hook up with anyone with a pulse.”

“That is so very accurate,” Shaw complimented Locryn.

“Thank you,” Locryn said, smiling at him in a moment of levity.