CHAPTER ONE
SLADE
I squint my eyes and lean forward as I try to read the small black writing on my computer screen. For some stupid reason, my vision is a little fuzzy today.
Parker, one of my best friends and business partner, tries to get my attention from across my desk. “Slade?” He puts another handful of sunflower seeds in his mouth. The sound of him slurping and chewing is enough to drive any man to drinking. Even at this early hour.
“Hmm?” I ask, keeping my eyes on the screen. I squint more, but it doesn’t help me with the fine print. “How do you turn the brightness down?” I mumble more to myself than him. I hate this computer! Angel got it for my thirty-second birthday a few months back. Said it was state of the art. The creme de la creme. What-the fuck-ever. It sucks.
I look away from the screen and over to Parker as he spits some sunflower seed shells into a white Styrofoam cup. “Can you go do that somewhere else?” My voice is clipped; I’m in no mood for him today.
A few pieces fall onto his black fitted shirt that looks like he bought in the kid’s department at the mall. He feels the smaller he buys them, the bigger he looks to the women. I think it makes him look like an idiot. Doesn’t matter what the guy wears, women still flock to him. This is the reason he is the only one not settled down out of all of our friends.
“What’s wrong with you?” he asks as he dusts off his shirt, pushing his leftovers onto the floor for the cleaning lady to pick up later.
I ignore his question as I sit behind my desk. What’s wrong with me? I have a few answers to that question. It could be the fact that I think I’m going blind. Maybe I do need contacts like Angel has been saying. Could be because I got no sleep last night. It could be ‘cause of a little foot that kicked me in the balls three times. Could be because a little hand slapped me in the face twice.
See, Angel is letting Sadey sleep with us. At first, I didn’t mind. But that was back when she was a tiny little baby who didn’t move much. She had a little white wedge that kept her in one spot and protected her, so we didn’t roll over onto her. Now she’s fifteen months old and is just like her mommy—constantly rolling around in bed. No bed would be big enough for all three of us. Oh and you can’t forget Peaches. That damn dog loves to lay across my legs. The other morning I got up for work and almost fell flat on my face due to the numbness. That dog needs its very own room.
“Don’t you have something you need to be doing?” I question him while I still look over my screen.
“Nope.” His chipper voice is quite annoying as well.
I look up to see my office door open as Tate, my other best friend and brother-in-law, walks in. He plops down in one of the black high-rise chairs next to Parker. “Please tell me I can beat the shit out of someone today?” He fists one hand into the palm of another.
“The day is young.” We have a party that we are working tonight. Some big rig who works in the oil industry is having a party for his closest three hundred friends. They hired us to be security.
The security company we have isn’t exactly ‘traditional.’ I know when others think of a security team, they think a bald headed man with a beer belly standing in the center of a mall. That’s what I think, anyway. But that’s not what we do. We do mainly private parties. Very upscale private parties. Parker’s father is the mayor of St. Louis and has kept us busy. I guess some would think that we’re not qualified for this type of job considering none of us went to school for this, but I would disagree.
Parker has plenty of skills that he brings to the table since he is a cop. Tate is just Tate. He can just look at you and it would scare you shitless. He’s the first to throw a punch and the last to go down. He towers over most, and the tattoos that run
SLADE
I squint my eyes and lean forward as I try to read the small black writing on my computer screen. For some stupid reason, my vision is a little fuzzy today.
Parker, one of my best friends and business partner, tries to get my attention from across my desk. “Slade?” He puts another handful of sunflower seeds in his mouth. The sound of him slurping and chewing is enough to drive any man to drinking. Even at this early hour.
“Hmm?” I ask, keeping my eyes on the screen. I squint more, but it doesn’t help me with the fine print. “How do you turn the brightness down?” I mumble more to myself than him. I hate this computer! Angel got it for my thirty-second birthday a few months back. Said it was state of the art. The creme de la creme. What-the fuck-ever. It sucks.
I look away from the screen and over to Parker as he spits some sunflower seed shells into a white Styrofoam cup. “Can you go do that somewhere else?” My voice is clipped; I’m in no mood for him today.
A few pieces fall onto his black fitted shirt that looks like he bought in the kid’s department at the mall. He feels the smaller he buys them, the bigger he looks to the women. I think it makes him look like an idiot. Doesn’t matter what the guy wears, women still flock to him. This is the reason he is the only one not settled down out of all of our friends.
“What’s wrong with you?” he asks as he dusts off his shirt, pushing his leftovers onto the floor for the cleaning lady to pick up later.
I ignore his question as I sit behind my desk. What’s wrong with me? I have a few answers to that question. It could be the fact that I think I’m going blind. Maybe I do need contacts like Angel has been saying. Could be because I got no sleep last night. It could be ‘cause of a little foot that kicked me in the balls three times. Could be because a little hand slapped me in the face twice.
See, Angel is letting Sadey sleep with us. At first, I didn’t mind. But that was back when she was a tiny little baby who didn’t move much. She had a little white wedge that kept her in one spot and protected her, so we didn’t roll over onto her. Now she’s fifteen months old and is just like her mommy—constantly rolling around in bed. No bed would be big enough for all three of us. Oh and you can’t forget Peaches. That damn dog loves to lay across my legs. The other morning I got up for work and almost fell flat on my face due to the numbness. That dog needs its very own room.
“Don’t you have something you need to be doing?” I question him while I still look over my screen.
“Nope.” His chipper voice is quite annoying as well.
I look up to see my office door open as Tate, my other best friend and brother-in-law, walks in. He plops down in one of the black high-rise chairs next to Parker. “Please tell me I can beat the shit out of someone today?” He fists one hand into the palm of another.
“The day is young.” We have a party that we are working tonight. Some big rig who works in the oil industry is having a party for his closest three hundred friends. They hired us to be security.
The security company we have isn’t exactly ‘traditional.’ I know when others think of a security team, they think a bald headed man with a beer belly standing in the center of a mall. That’s what I think, anyway. But that’s not what we do. We do mainly private parties. Very upscale private parties. Parker’s father is the mayor of St. Louis and has kept us busy. I guess some would think that we’re not qualified for this type of job considering none of us went to school for this, but I would disagree.
Parker has plenty of skills that he brings to the table since he is a cop. Tate is just Tate. He can just look at you and it would scare you shitless. He’s the first to throw a punch and the last to go down. He towers over most, and the tattoos that run
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