Page 111 of Good Enough
Stud castle guard, am I? Good to know.
“Okay, stop. You are so far from living in an ivory tower and requiring protection, it’s ridiculous.”
“Really? Could have fooled me.”
“Since you’re dying to overanalyze this clusterfuck, let’s clear up some things.”
Her face looked down at the tabletop again.
“Hey! Look at me,” he whispered. This time, he gently grabbed her chin and turned her face up to his. Instead of letting go completely, he cradled the unbruised side of her face with his hand. “That was not a cut at you. I’m trying to explain some things to you so that your head’s in the right space.”
His thumb stroked the curve of her cheek. “One, all our clients get nicknames so that sensitive information doesn’t get into anyone’s hands who might manage to listen in. We use codewords for all kinds of things, and your practices with your filming philosophies played nicely into that. Why he chose that moniker is on him, so I can’t give you the whys and wherefores.
“Two, he barks at absolutely everyone, me included. He’s a big junkyard dog that’s used to puffing up and making a lot of noise to get people to jump to his bidding. Tongue lashing is part of the gig, and it hurts worse than any flaying of skin. The average person hates yelling. They will do almost anything to avoid conflict, so they try to pussyfoot around things. Yelling implies conflict, so God yells to cut through the bullshit and get done what needs to be done.
“Three, he knows you’re in the room. Everyone on the team does. It’s hard not to know you’re there. Trust me on that one. Whole fuckin’ useless group of them are half in love with you.” He tucked the last part under his breath, but she must have heard him because she scrunched her eyebrows together in confusion.
So clueless for someone so smart.
“He’s treating you like an inanimate target so that he doesn’t lose it over what this pathetic shitfucker did to you. God talks around you to create a disconnect, which allows him to think clearly about an assignment.
“Four, he makes ‘unreasonable demands’—and let me just add that I’m hurt that having to stay with me seems ‘unreasonable’ to you—that compromise your everyday life because this situation is that fucking serious, baby. You ignore just one of his orders, and it could be the difference between you being able to go back to living your life the way it was before and being locked up. The police won’t look much further than the obvious, and then your ass really will be in jail, at least until someone with a brain cell sees it was clearly self-defense.
“And, last but not least, God is in charge of every life that touches him. If we get all Knights of the Round Table on you, it’s because your safety is important to us.
“Babe, you put yourself in my hands for help and protection, and I would still take a bullet for you. I would die to protect you. By extension, that means my tribe would do the same, including God, whether you want them to or not. And that comes complete with a castle guard.
“However, make no mistake, Kubrick, you are not a ‘Hollywood Princess.’ God’s way of disconnecting, maybe, but you’re one of the strongest, most capable, kick-ass women we know.”
“Yeah, real kick-ass. Broke down like a teenage girl over what happened at my place. Sorry about that.”
He covered her clenched hands sitting on the tabletop. “In case I need to remind you, baby, there was a fucking dead body in your living room. Someone attacked you intending to end your life, for fuck’s sake. And you defended yourself with equal force. Of course you fell apart a little. Taking a life, intentionally or unintentionally, has a cost that comes with it. And later on? There was absolutely, positively no reason to go back into that house, but you did. You did not need to deal with that shit a second time. The fact that you had to deal with it for the first time has made me want to breathe fire.”
“Pisses me off that now I have a blood stain on my antique wood flooring. That’s never going to come out, and I’m going to have to remember that fucktard every time I go in my living room.” She snorted. “That is if I don’t go to prison.”
Waters grinned and leaned back in his seat.
There she is. She’s back.
“You’re not going to prison. The team is taking care of your house, Midas is going to make it so there’s no record of him going anywhere near the direction of your house. Demon went diving for the gun. He’ll probably have it by the time I get you home.”
Her face blanched. “God told TB to make Big Bird disappear.”
“Don’t worry about the details. I promise. No one will know. We have a lot of skills that you’re better off not knowing about.”
“You’re covering up a murder.”
“No, it’s not a murder. You defended yourself. But we’re not exactly a regular channel kind of group. We’re not ‘good guys,’ Kubrick. We’re hired to do sketchy things all of the time. Even knowing that, your brother sent you to us because we get shit done.”
“I’m scared, Waters. Beyond scared.”
He brushed her hair back behind her ear. “I know. But we’ve got you now.”
“But—”
“Stop. Now, I’m going to take you back to my house in the hills, and we’ll hang out there for a few days while everything sorts itself out. Did you have any meetings or projects in the next few days?”
“No. I was scheduled to go out of town. I usually take some time right after a film closes up shop.”