Blackness Takes Over & Blackness Awaits (22 page)

“I was raised by a man, a man who could live off the land for months, maybe forever if he wanted. He taught me to shoot at eight and to kill someone with my hands at ten. I can use a myriad of weapons with comfort, and as you know I’m particularly good with firearms. This injury,” I motion to my bandaged hand, “is a mistake I never make. I didn’t judge my swing and hit the guy’s mouth. The damage is from the teeth I knocked out.” He glances at my hand but waits for me to finish.

“I’m human and make mistakes but they’re rare when it comes to my safety. I have only once found myself in a compromised situation and I paid for that mistake dearly, almost costing me my life. I will never find myself in a situation like that again. If Butch or anyone else is going to try to get me or hurt me, they’ll have to outsmart me because I won’t be making it easy. I always carry this gun.” I run my hand over it.

“Sometimes I carry additional pieces. I will not go down without a fight. If you want to keep this job you need to know I don’t take shit from anyone, you included. I don’t like being told what to do and I certainly don’t like people playing games with me. If this,” I motion between us, “is going to work, you have to be honest and upfront. No more games. No more tests.” I keep his gaze and wait for him to respond. He clears his throat and sits forward, bridging his hands in his lap.

“Shannon, when I started doing this job it was guarding a ‘celebrity’,” he motions air quotes, “that did reality TV and got popular. She didn’t know her ass from a hole in the ground. My clients haven’t gotten much better since her. They were reckless and irresponsible. My job was to keep them safe when they could care two shits about how I accomplished that. They wanted to be safe yet behaved like lunatics: starting fights, behaving erratically, drinking to excess, spending time with dangerous people, using drugs, you name it they did it.” He shakes his head but maintains eye contact.

“I’m incredibly sorry for assuming you were the same kind of client. If you look at it from my point of view: you refused a typical interview and wanted a shoot off instead, you refused to be referred to in a professional manner, you’re a woman living with a bunch of guys running downstairs in a see-through top last night and sleeping with a guy you tell me you’re not in a relationship with, after he marks his territory all over you for breakfast. I shouldn’t have made those assumptions but I did. It’s my job to be able to assess situations at face value; my assessment of you was off base completely. I understand if you want to terminate my employment. The other candidates you saw yesterday were more than qualified to guard you safely.” He waits for my response.

That’s a pretty picture. What the fuck do I say to that? Apparently I came off like an incompetent slutty bimbo, that’s not an assessment I’m used to having associated with me. I’m embarrassed and angry for not better representing myself. Why wouldn’t he think I’m some airhead that gets her jollies off starting fights and slutting it up? Ugh!

“Okay,” I breathe out, “I see where you’re coming from. I hate that you thought of me like that and I can assure you, you couldn’t be further off base. I’m not a slut now nor have I ever been. I apologize for the shirt last night, that was me running out of my room thinking I was alone with my family. No one told me you were there and I didn’t realize the, uh, lightweightedness, of my shirt. I do live with a bunch of guys, guys I’ve lived with since I was a teenager and have never been anything but platonic with all of them. Kellerman is not my boyfriend, it’s a new relationship, but not a torrid one-night-stand.” I take a few calming breaths and continue.

“I don’t want you to call me ma’am or Ms. Kelly, because I like to be comfortable with the people I spend my time with. This is a difficult change for me so I want to be as comfortable with you as possible. I chose not to do a standard interview because this isn’t a standard job. I didn’t find out I needed anyone for this post until Sunday night, so forgive me if the interview wasn’t up to your standard. I went with what I know.” I stand up and so does he. “Can you put aside the previous persona you saddled me with and see me with fresh eyes?” I ask pointedly.

“I believe I can.” He takes a step toward me and extends his hand. “Can you forgive my poor judgment and trust that I will not make such a grievous error moving forward?” I stare at his hand and back up to his face. I think I can do that. We shake and put our extremely short, and full of miscommunications past, behind us.

I walk over to my desk and store my gun. Pressing the call button on my phone I ask Karl to come in. He bounds in my office, pen and pad in hand with crazy eyes trying to figure out what the fuck is going on without asking.

“Karl, this is Andrew Taylor, he’ll be my personal security for the foreseeable future.” I smile slightly.

“Yes Mr. Taylor, I believe we met briefly yesterday,” Karl says and extends a hand to him. “Thank you for taking such an important post. Miss Kelly deserves the best protection there is. I’m counting on you to be up to the task.” Awww, my assistant is putting the scary security guy in his place.

Taylor shakes his hand and nods.

“Karl can give you my schedule. Obviously, it can change on the fly but it’ll give you an idea. Once you’re done with Karl you’ll need to go to the front desk and get your payroll paperwork signed and your ID badge. Then you’ll need to head to Ryan Callaghan’s office to go over your contract. Meet me back here once you’re done and we’ll find a suitable place for you,” I instruct, showing him how wrong he was about me. A knowing grin creeps across his face.

“If you could please stay in your office until I return, I would appreciate it,” he says in an appropriate tone and manner. Things are getting better.

“No problem. Karl please see to Taylor and then join me to go over the day.” Karl nods and they leave my office. I pull my BlackBerry out and start going through all the messages that have come in during my “come to Jesus” with Taylor. I see a message from Kel:

Just boarding my plane. Miss you.

He’s already taken off so I don’t reply. He misses me? Huh. I haven’t had a chance to miss him with all of the Taylor head fuckery. I flop into my Donghia desk chair and close my eyes for a few moments of peace.

Knock, knock.

In pops Karl.

“All right Shannon, give me the scoop,” he titters. “Yesterday, you leave here with the finest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on and then today you walk in with his brother from another mother. Talk!” I sigh.

“Yesterday you saw me leaving with Dylan Kellerman. He’s Mr. Kellerman’s son.” Karl nods. “He was at the hospital visiting Mia on Saturday, we hit it off, not much to tell. You know who Taylor is. Again not much to tell,” I sigh and try to look busy, staring at my blank computer screen.

“I know you haven’t even turned that thing on yet,” Karl scolds. “Not much to tell, my ass. Mr. Kellerman looked at you like you were a prime rib ready to be devoured and Mr. Taylor looks like he wants to steal Mr. Kellerman’s dinner. So who gets to eat…and am I invited to dinner?”

“You’re disgusting and need to get a life.” I snicker while launching a pencil at him. “And if you must know, Kel’s the only one partaking in my meals!”

“You hussy! I love you!!” Karl squeals. We’re both giggling like school girls when the office phone rings. Karl jumps up and answers the phone on my desk with a flourish.

“Shannon Kelly’s office,” Karl answers without a hint of the giggles we were just engaging in. He’s silent and then starts scribbling furiously at his pad. Something’s up.

“When…you need to stall…we’ll be right there.” He’s texting as he’s talking. He slams the phone down.

“Butch got an emergency hearing to request visitation with Mia. It’s in ten minutes. The clerk I used to blow just called me. He’s trying to stall.” I’m already on my feet and at my door when I realize I need Taylor. I don’t have his contact info yet. SHIT!

“Run and find Taylor now,” I yell at Karl. He flies out of the office running like an Olympian out of the blocks. I’m pacing back and forth in the doorway when Karl and Taylor come running around the corner. I take off in a sprint down the hall, Taylor and Karl hot on my heels.

“Rodger’s waiting,” Karl breathes heavily into my ear. He needs to do more cardio. “Hold the elevator!!” he screams down the corridor. Someone hears us and actually does. Once we’re in the S-Class Rodger flies down 12
^th
Street to the courthouse. I toss my BlackBerry over Taylor’s shoulder.

“Put your information in there please,” I huff. His fingers are flying. Rodger slams on the brakes and I break into another sprint into the courthouse, clear security in record time, and haul ass to the “blow job” clerk’s office. Taylor hands me back my BlackBerry as we reach the office. Thank God the clerk tells us he was able to stall and we ride with him up to the courtroom.

I walk in, trying to wipe the sweat from my brow and settle my clothes into place. Butch and his attorney are sitting with their heads together. I haven’t seen Butch since his sentencing hearing more than six years ago. He looks the same. He’s a big Italian guy: dark hair and eyes, olive skin, a crooked nose, and a scar that runs from the bottom of his right eye to the top of his lip. His attorney Phil Reed, is a goddamn snake. He looks like one too: long, skinny, slicked back dirty blond hair, and beady green eyes.

I no sooner take my seat, “All rise….”

I fought my ass off but I lost. Butch got his visitation with Mia, two hours twice a week. I won supervision: me, KCPD, and Mia’s social worker. His first visit is at 1:00 p.m. tomorrow. I feel sick. I failed Mia. We ride back to the office in silence. Once back in my office I flop in my designer chair and smash my forehead onto my desk. I hear Taylor moving in the room, but I don’t look up.

Knock, knock.

“Come in,” I groan into the now foggy glass of my desk, not lifting my head.

“Kid,” Kavy says solemnly, “hey, come on.” He puts his hand on my shoulder and rubs in comfort. I sit up only to hang my head in my hands. Sully and Cally are here too. My boys.

“What good am I as her GAL if I can’t even keep that motherfucker away from her?” I ask, dripping with disdain.

“Don’t start, Kid,” Sully scolds me, “cut yourself some slack.” I laugh condescendingly. Kavy slides a drink in front of me. I scoop it up and slam in back. Whiskey. I hand the glass back in his direction, indicating another.

“I’m sorry, Kid,” Cally coos softly. “I’m really sorry.” I look up at him. He’s got sympathy all over his face. They know what Mia and this case mean for me. Kavy slides another drink in front of me. I wrap my hands around the glass and breathe. I’m okay.

“I’m fine guys,” I exhale. “Can you just give me a few minutes alone?” I look up at them to let them see I really am okay.

Kavy squeezes my shoulder while kissing my hair and murmurs, “We’re around if you need us.”

Everyone including Taylor leaves my office. Silence. I take a few minutes to myself and then Kel pops in my head. I need to tell him. I hope he doesn’t hate me for this. I kind of hate me for this. I pull out my BlackBerry. Two texts from Kel:

Hey I just landed. I hope all is well on the home front :)

Kid, I haven’t heard from you all day. Call or text when you have a chance.

I hit his name and dial, half hoping for voicemail, half not. He answers on the second ring.

“Hey,” he’s out of breath, “I’m glad you called. I was gettin’ worried.” His voice is so sincere and smooth. He sounds like a phone sex operator.

“It’s been a busy day,” I try to sound normal but I know I don’t pull it off. I can’t feign shit with him.

“What’s wrong, Kid? You sound down?”

“I had a bad result in court today…with Butch,” I’m almost whispering.

“Butch?” he’s shocked. “You didn’t tell me you had anything with Butch. I wouldn’t have left if I knew that, Kid.” He’s so fucking good to me. I feel better just talking to him and I haven’t said shit. I’ve never felt better talking to a guy before, my boys yes, but never a…I don’t know what to call him…romantic interest?

“I didn’t know about it. His snake attorney, Reed, tried to pull a fast one on me. Thankfully, Karl knows the clerk that handled the case and called him to give us the heads up.” I sigh loudly. “I lost though, Kel. He petitioned for visitation and won. I got it supervised by me, KCPD, and Mia’s social worker; but tomorrow at one he gets two hours with her.” Please don’t be mad.

“Jesus Christ, Kid.” He sighs. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry. I wish I was there. I don’t want you or Mia to be with him. Maybe I should just come back. I can deal with this later.”

“No, Kel.” As much as I want him here, I don’t want him to put his life on hold. I can take care of myself and he needs to know that if he’s really going to try and make it to the month mark. “You finish up your stuff there. I’m fine and Mia will be too. I have Taylor to watch out for me…it’s his job you know.” I try to lighten up the mood.

“Yeah,” he huffs, “don’t remind me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I’m lost.

“I saw him lookin’ at you this morning, Kid. He looks at you…hungry.”

“Huh?”