Watching You: KJ Elite Inc. (4 page)

“And you’ve always been one to draw anything out.”

“At least I have shit to draw out.” He arched his brows and looked back to Tommy pointedly.

“You want to talk about women or work?”

“Oh but brother, women are work.”

Tommy just shook his head and continued cooking himself some supper.

“Tommy, why are you even cookin' man? You live a 5 minute walk or 3 minute drive up to ma's and you know she would be over the moon to cook somethin' for you. Anything. Hell, a peanut butter and jelly would make her day." He stands, laying his hands down on the cream and gold granite island countertop. “Hey, where’d you get that shirt?”

Tommy looked down at his chest, not knowing what he had thrown on when he rolled out of bed around 5AM to escape his nightmares. He had on a merlot colored short sleeve tee with a helmet set upon the butt of an upturned M-16 rifle, dog tags hanging off the grip, boots at the base of the weapon all in black and off the right side of the chest. There was a flag on the right sleeve and ASMDSS (Awesome Shit My Drill Sergeant Says) emblem printed on the left sleeve and across the chest in white it read,

UNTIL WE

REGROUP

“Grunt Style.”

“Very nice.”

When Tommy stayed silent and continued stirring, Noah quietly says, "Look man, we’re just worried about you. We want to get you into something, get your mind off the past 6 years and into some healthy work.”

“I already told you, I’ll think about it. I’m just getting settled in. I still have to move stuff in and finish some details on the house. I’ve been sober-ish for two weeks now, don’t push me.”

“TJ...” Noah begins but stops just as soon to ponder if he wants to cross this line right now, considering his brother’s previous statement. He said fuck it and dredged on. “Why haven’t you gone to see her?”

This immediately gets his attention and Tommy almost breaks his neck snapping it up so fast to land a snarl on his brother. “That's none of your fucking business, No. Watch your boundaries before you overstep and get hurt.”

“I would love to see that.” Noah gave a deep laugh from the base of his belly. “She’s important to all of us.”

“Keep pushing.”

Noah takes his advice, for now, and switches back to work talk. “Oh, I fully intend to. I promise. But this isn’t about her right now. We could really use your skills man. What else are you gonna do, be the Sheriff?” His look was incredulous but he smiled.

Tommy couldn’t help but give a small, pitiful laugh. “It would be a sight to behold for sure.”

Tommy shook his head again and pulled out a pan.

“Seriously, dude, you need a woman. No self-respecting man cooks himself dinner to be eaten alone.”

“You’re a moron. I mean, you do know you have a few screws loose, right?” Tommy says pointing at his brothers head and moving his finger around in circles.

“Says you. Come work with us. Damn good pay, you got your brothers there holding your back up and plenty of work to keep your mind straight.”

That was the problem, though. His mind was plenty straight. Straight on one woman, and all the pain in the world. Five years and not a whisper from the one woman in this world who could bring him to his knees, hell, who had brought him to his knees. Though, despite her radio silence, she sure had written some quite interesting things that sounded pretty damn familiar. Shaking his head, putting the thought out of his mind if for even a few moments he sighed and said, “Again, I’ll think about it.”

“Don’t make me get mom on you.”

Just then, their oldest brother, Mike, walks in and heads straight for the refrigerator.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know I was housing and feeding every fucking man in Bradley County with the last name Kane.” Tommy throws his arms up exaggeratedly.

Mike had let Tom’s digs go over his head since his world was turned upside down because just knowing his little brother was still hurting, hurt him. He made it a point to stop by Tommy’s house every day, at least twice a day since he’d been back. There were a lot of pieces to be picked back up but Tommy would never admit he needed the help, even after Mike had found him passed out half on and half off his couch with a bottle of whiskey in his hand, spilling onto the floor. The tears rolling down his cheeks and sobs escaping his chest, trapped in the throes of his nightmare, had nearly torn Mike in two knowing there was very little he could do. That moment in time was a secret he would keep until the day he died; no one else needed to know the bottomless pit Tommy had found himself in, not even Tommy.

“Sweet shirt. Got a potential job, need you on it. You on board?” He asked, head still shoved in the fridge.

“When and where?” Noah asked.

“Not you dumb ass, I’m talkin’ to TJ. You’re already on project.” Mike shakes his head, still buried, as if they can see it.

“I don’t know man. I got shit to do.” Like sit around, drink whiskey and sulk.

“Like sit at home and move some more furniture around?"

Close enough.

Noah makes a noise and huffs, "What the hell man? I've been working on you for weeks with nothin', but big brother here steps in for ten seconds to steal your beer and you're ready to go? I call bullshit." Mike laughs at Noah and then sticks out his lower lip." Poor baby!" He looks to Tommy and points, "I’ll let you know the details when I hear more." Mike grabs a beer out of the door and walks toward the front door. “Oh, and you need beer, you’re out.” Mike flashes that signature Kane grin at him then walks out with Noah close behind laughing heartily. “Serves him right, he told me he didn’t have any.”

“That’s because I don’t like you.” Tommy yells after them and takes a long pull from his beer. “Dicks.” They simply chuckled and kept on walking.

Chapter 3

Two days had passed since my creepy, surprise visitor and I am relatively relaxed now but still find myself looking around corners and getting quiet, just to listen for unfamiliar sounds, every so often. Matt and Jamie keep trying to get me out of the house as often as possible but it makes me angry when they try because it feels like they’re doing it out of concern for my safety or health rather than enjoyment of my company. Like I’m some victim and I don’t want to feel like a victim. Surely I couldn’t be with as much as I’m packing. Just to be sure, I haven’t been unarmed one second since and don’t plan to be either. Replaying the night in my head again, I jump out of my skin when my phone vibrates in my lap.

“This is Taylor.”

“Damn, that is sexy!” Matt growled and chuckled.

“You are so silly. What are you doing?

“The usual. Sitting at work when I wanna pick you up and get a drink!”

“I’m not sure if I should be flattered by that line you just fed me or concerned that you might have a drinking problem.”

“You drink as much as I do and by your choice of words, I know that you don’t
think
we have a problem, you know. But you don’t
say
that, because that’s the first step to recovery and you are no quitter!” I couldn’t help but laugh at his logic. A good bottle of wine or a beer and some shots certainly could make things go away, at least while the bottle lasted. On the other hand, I preferred my men to come in one flavor, two different names- Jim & Jack. Any size will do. They never let me down and pick me up when I’m fallin’.

“You have such a way about you Matthew.”

“Never duplicated, can’t be imitated though many try, I’m one of a kind baby!”

“Hell yes. This is the truth, of that I am certain.”

He could always make me smile, even when it was the furthest thing from my mind.

“So, I want to throw an idea at you. Just kick it around a little and go from there.”

“Okay...” I hesitate. His ideas usually involved inappropriate men, potential jail time or something very bad otherwise listed.

“So I know this guy who knows some guys.” There it was. I dropped my head and shook it a little. “Don’t worry, not like that. I mean, I’m sure he could take care of you, but that’s not where I’m going with this.”

“What am I going to do with you?”

“I have a dick, so...anything and everything.” He half joked.

“Continue.”

“Well, these guys he knows, have a little company. It’s what we in the business prefer to call an asset management and protection firm.”

“Lamens.”

“Kind of like, bodyguards.”

"Kind of or just bodyguards?"

"Just bodyguards."

“Hell.No.”

“That is not kicking it around and if you already knew, why would you even ask when you were already going to say no.” He chided. I ignore his point and move on.

“Sure it is. You didn’t say where to kick it around, so I kicked it out the door.”

“Sweetheart, this is going to escalate, it’s just a matter of when. I want to know you’re safe.”

“That’s why we called the police, Matty.”

“They can only do so much for the time being Taylor. No one can even get a restraining order because a, we don’t know who this guy or crazy bitch is and b, they haven’t done you any physical harm. It seems a twisted system, but until it seems like they are a real threat to you, you can’t really be protected.” He had a point but I wasn't one to give in so easily.

“Of course I can; they’re called Thelma and Louise.”

He scoffed.

“To each his own.” I shrugged my shoulders as if he could see me.

“Think about it, please. Maybe we could even do a little getaway. I would invite Jamie so she isn’t at the apartment alone, but she is traveling to Paris for a month in a few days.” He laid his hand on the receiver to talk to someone else and I heard him say, “Stu, take these to Janet for me. They’re finished and ready to go. Also, I want that information I asked you for earlier in no later than one hour’s time.”

In response, Stu stuttered “Y-y-yes sir. I’ll g-get right on i-it sir.”

“Alright, I’ll finish up here and...What is that in the background?”

“Jamie and I are at the salon.” I said simply, knowing he was going to make a huge deal out of it.

“I’m sorry,
you
are where?”

And so he did. Jamie didn’t surprise him due to her career choice but I didn’t do the girly day trips and such. Not that I didn’t enjoy them, I just rarely did them. Growing up I was more into softball, working on the farm and getting into trouble with Tommy.

“I just wanted to look human and decent for the ceremony tonight.”

“Did you get a pretty dress?”

“I can’t just wear something in my closet?”

“Shit no. Don’t worry, I’ll get someone on it right now. I know your size and have the perfect dress in mind. We are going to make you stunning.”

“
You
have the perfect dress in mind? You know what, that actually doesn’t surprise me. As many women and models as you’ve screwed around with, I’m sure you’ve seen em’ all. Just don’t go overboard, you know I like to be low key.”

“I just don’t see that happening tonight.” He laughed and I heard him shuffling some papers around. “I’ve got to go, I’ve got calls to make now! See ya soon.”

Lord help me, low key was nowhere to be found in Matt’s vocabulary and I had a feeling, I was either going to be half naked or very gaudy tonight.

One of the benefits of being friends with Matt and Jamie was that I had numerous opportunities to attend many events in the Hollywood and New York limelight but often or not, I decided to stay home. Matt always told me he would never object to having a pretty lady on his arm, but I always felt very out of place. I was simply more comfortable in jeans and a t-shirt. My favorite of which was the one I currently had on. Pink with a black girl figure holding a gun and it says:

shoot like a girl.

It showed up one day with the flowers and chocolates and a pair of yoga pants that have a girly skull and cross bones on the left upper thigh and PRETTY DANGEROUS written down the right leg, but no note. I loved it all so much that I decided to look the other way and not wonder why or how they knew personals like my size, because they fit like a glove, or that I could even shoot.

Figuring the past few days had been trying on my nerves and peace of mind, I figured it might be nice to take a break from worrying and just do something “fun”. Plus, they keep trying to get me out and I keep yelling at them so I figured this would be my ‘I’m sorry for being a witch’ and Jamie will be there also so Matt can’t sic some gang of hot, single men on me.

With my hair swept up in a beautiful romantic chignon with bits of hair at my nape and temples, pulled forward and curled, nails painted the color matching bubbling pink champagne and as my father called it, whore red toenails, I was ready to go. Except for my dress which seemed to be M.I.A. as well as Matty thirty minutes before we were meant to leave. I tried his cell again, which went straight to voicemail, again.