Bodyguard Dearest (Bodyguard #1) (2 page)

Tanner

I
f I had a buck for every time Tris Kane rolled her eyes at me, I’d be as rich as her father, the notorious Jordan Kane. I’d be able to quit my job tomorrow. Except that I don’t fucking quit. Ever. Not in my DNA.

Tris managed to nod off, or at least stay quiet, for most of the trip back to Los Angeles, but then she woke up and let me have it. She called me every name in the book and by book I mean the book of vulgar insults. Impressive, really. Still only nineteen and she can curse like a drunken sailor.

I usually just call her
Princess
or
Déjà Vu
because chasing her down has become a regular occurrence in my work life and all her different escapes begin to melt together as one in my memory.

“Daddy’s watchdog did his job again,” she says, finally. “Does he pat your head and give you a little treat when you bring me back?”

“No need,” I tell her. “I’d do this for free. It’s a good time.” I can feel her eyes glaring at the back of my seat.

“Yeah,” she says, “I bet it makes you a Jolly fucking rancher.”

I’m not sure what she means, but I’m simultaneously insulted and amused. “We’re here,” I say as I pull through the gates of the Kane mansion.

“We’re nowhere,” she says quietly.

I get her issue with her manicured life and I want to say more than I should, but I don’t. I never say more than I should. I’m not paid for that. “It’s not safe out there for the daughter of Jordan Kane. Wise the fuck up.”

“Tanner Hayes, the professional, and yet, he drops f-bombs,” she says with a yawn.

This girl needs a good spanking. All these rich debutantes could all use that and then some. “I just picked up your f-bomb and returned it.”

“What?” she says. “Are you trying to be charming?”

I don’t answer.

“I’d stick to your usual grunting,” she says, reminding me of what an incredible pain in the ass she has become.

I grunt. “Get out,” I say.

“With pleasure,” Tris says. She unbuckles her seatbelt as soon as the car comes to a halt in the underground garage, but she changes her mind and just sits in her seat. I watch her in the rearview. She fidgets with the purse in her lap for a moment and then brushes back her long, brown hair, looking in the mirror in front of her.

By the time she starts rummaging through her purse, I’ve lost all patience. “While we’re young, princess.” I get it that she’s in no hurry to face her father’s wrath but I have my own urgent matters.

She sticks her tongue out at me like a five-year-old brat before she finally opens her door. I get out and circle the car quickly to meet her as she steps out. It’s becoming a habit, getting in her way.

“I can take it from here, champ,” she says, stiffly. She lifts her hand to push me aside but changes her mind. Her hand falls back to her side, almost lifeless. Come to think of it, she’s never willingly touched me, it’s always been me egging her forward or grabbing her arm to get her to move or comply.

It works for me. So I do what she expects me to do. I nudge her forward, staying at two steps behind her, until we enter the living room—an impersonal, cold, vast space she no doubt hates since she was a child. Here is where Jordan Kane, her father, spends most of his time when he’s at the main house.

As if on cue, Kane walks into the room with his phone to his ear. As soon as he spots us, he excuses himself and puts the phone in the pocket of his expensive dress jacket.

“Trista,” he says, sternly, before he turns to me. “Well done, Tanner. I knew you would return her safely.”

He exaggerates his gratitude to me to make it more obvious he’s not one bit pleased with his own daughter. I know his tricks and I bet Tris does too.

“That’s my name,” she says, looking him in the eye, a mocking grin on her face. The girl has guts.

“I was worried sick,” Kane says, standing stiffly, his eyes scanning Tris from head to toe. “Why willingly put yourself into harm’s way? How can you forget what happened to your brother?”

“I can’t forget. You remind me endlessly,” she says, lowering her eyes. Kane’s glare even unnerves her. “Accidents happen.”

“I don’t believe in accidents,” Kane responds, raising his voice. “It pays to use caution. Isn’t that correct, Mr. Hayes?”

Ah, that damned accident they reference every time they’re trying to explain anything. I nod though, because he’s right. Accident or not, he has more enemies than the army has bullets.

“You can’t just keep us all imprisoned in this house forever, Daddy. Sooner or later, we’ll have to make our own mistakes.”

Now this is happening. One more conversation crashing and burning. I have no interest in hearing this go down.

“It’s more than a mistake, Trista,” Kane says. “It’s self-destruction. Sometimes a father has to save a child from herself.”

“Two things. I’m not a child and I hardly need saving.”

Kane grabs her arm roughly. Her bottom lip trembles as she tries to paint in an expression of defiance. This is some serious family shit I want no part in, but Kane has not dismissed me. He wants me to be here. Probably to cause Tris additional embarrassment.

I can’t watch any longer. It’s not my place. I take a step backwards, raising my hand to excuse myself.

Kane points his index finger at me, ordering me to stay put. “Do you see Tanner?” he asks his daughter, turning her roughly. “Look at him.”

Her eyes glance at me as she mumbles, “I see him.”

“I depend on Tanner,” Kane goes on. “He and his team allow us to enjoy the security they are paid to maintain. When he’s in the room, I breathe easy. Despite this, I am reassigning him exclusively to your protection for the next month or two. This means he will be pulled away from where he’s truly needed. Your sisters respect the delicate eco system we live in, but you insist on running off into a wide world of predators and opportunists. Until you understand the dangers, Tanner will be there to keep you safe from yourself. It’s up to you.”

Kill me now. Is this a stunt or does Kane really want to turn me into a goddamn wet nurse for his unruly daughter? I’m not a bodyguard, I’m a fucking Security Director. I have a thousand hours of high-level military training, as well as many thousands of hours in highly volatile theaters of war, as well as live target domestic scenarios. Fuck. Now he wants me to follow a bunch of co-eds to Peet’s Coffee and Venice Beach, maybe to Rodeo Drive for some girl-time pedicures. Bullshit. Mega ball-sucking bullshit.

Not to mention Tris already calls me a bodyguard to mock me.

“I don’t need a fucking bodyguard,” Tris says, staring at me like I’m the symbol of the entire hot mess that is her life.

There it is.
Bodyguard
. My new name.

Kane bends his face at his daughter’s words, disapproval all over his features. “Don’t be vulgar, Tris. You were brought up in the finest schools and the most exclusive neighborhoods.”

I almost laugh. Jordan Kane came up in the part of New York known as Hell’s Kitchen where, as he describes it, there were four whore houses on his block. He made his bones collecting until a mysterious benefactor helped him rise rapidly in life. He does business in ivory towers and leaky tenements. He’s no stranger to dark language and even darker deeds. The price he’s paid to be the man he has become must have been paid in devil’s errands.

“Leave it to me, Sir,” I say, trying to put an end to this unpleasant exchange. “You have nothing to worry about. I’ll make sure your daughter moves about in a contained environment.”

In my periphery I catch a furious expression on her face. She’ll have to get used to this. Tris might become a complete pain in my ass, now more so than ever, but she’ll learn to accept her situation and do what it takes to survive.

Kane’s use of the word
exclusive
has a deeper meaning in our world. It means I can use extreme measures to motivate her into understanding the magnitude of the risk involved in being Jordan Kane’s youngest child.

I’m not sure that includes putting her over my knee although that would be a good start in shaking the entitlement out of her delicate frame. It would be wise to keep my mind clear and off her
delicate frame
. Someday the clarity of my mind might be the only thing standing between her and a fatal
accident
.

Mercifully, I make it out to the hallway and walk back to the guesthouse that has been modified into the offices of the Kane security team.

I get the boss’s paranoia about his children. He can’t stand the thought of losing another child. It was bad enough that he lost his only son. Whether there is a heart buried deep behind his lifeless eyes or he just can’t stand appearing weak, he has made his four daughters his top priority. His motivation means nothing to me.

I am assignment driven and I have my assignment.

Derek bows in an exaggerated fashion when I enter the kitchen. He’s strange that way. Dominic and a new guy whose name I have trouble remembering sit at the table.

“Has the prodigal daughter been returned?” Derek says, following me with his gaze. His eyes are puffy and a yawn escapes his mouth before I give him an answer. Up late gambling or whoring or both. His element.

“Same story, different day,” I say, heading for the coffee machine.

“I don’t know how you handle it,” Derek says, clapping loudly. “That little one is fucking Joan of Arc. Hot little ass, but high maintenance doesn’t cover it. She’s straight out crazy that one.”

“She’s the boss’s daughter,” I warn him, pouring myself black coffee.

“Fresh donuts,” Dominic says, shoving a Boston Cream under my nose.

Derek gets up, doing a strange dance, stupid grin on his face. “What? I’m not about that at all. Everyone knows you’ve had your eye on her.”

Fixing my eyes on him, I make my disapproval clear. “What the fuck did you say?”

“Nothing,” he says. “I misspoke. Had a late night. Forget it.”

I slap Dominic’s hand aside, causing the donut to fly across the room and bounce off the wall. “Show some respect,” I tell Derek. “She’s nineteen and not one of your late night conquests.”

“I know. I was just saying,” Derek goes on, shifting on his feet.

I exhale and imagine the joy of smacking him right off his nervous feet but that wouldn’t do any good. It might make me feel good for a moment, but Derek is the most valued member of my team. And I know not to take him seriously. He has decided long ago that everything on Earth is a fucking joke.

“Cut the bullshit and give me a status update,” I say, ending it.

Derek shrugs. “Nothing but dead air and donuts.”

“You’ve only been gone half a day,” Dominic says.

“All good,” guy with no name adds.

I nod and let the coffee burn my lips. “Only takes a minute for kingdoms to fall,” I say, knowing I’ll get groans and rolled eyes.

“Jesus, man, get a new catch phrase,” Derek says. “That one is wore out like a hooker’s poop shoot.”

I laugh. New guy spits coffee up on the table. I’m pretty sure he won’t be here long and that’s probably the reason I haven’t remembered his name.

“Damn it, Riley,” Dominic says. Some of the spit coffee made it onto his lap.

Riley? That’s right. Already forgetting it again.

“And for the record,” I blurt out. “I’m paid to keep my eye on Tris Kane. In fact, now I have to do it 24/7.”

“No?” Dominic says.

“Yeah,” I say.

“Dude,” Derek says.

“Babysitting,” I say.

“Fuck,” Dominic says.

“Tell me about it,” I say.

No one says anything. I notice a smile emerging on Derek’s stupid face.

“Just say it,” I command.

“I’m not going to say it,” he says.

“That’s an order,” I clarify.

“Well, it could be worse,” Derek says. “At least she’s hot.”

Dominic laughs. Fucking Riley spits out his coffee again. I really need to fire him. Tough guys don’t do
spit takes
for fuck’s sake.

If I’m being honest, Tris is indeed exquisitely beautiful. I’ve never seen a more stunning face.

“You really want me to knock your fucking head off?” I say, unable to hide my reluctant amusement.

“Don’t look at me. I acted under your orders, boss.”

“Yeah. You did. And it’s the only reason you still have your teeth.”

Riley looks concerned. He hasn’t been around long enough to know Derek lives to bust my balls and I never smack him around for it.

“At least I have good dental,” Derek says.

Banter has never been my thing. I lose interest fast.

“I’m going a grab a few winks,” I say, spilling the rest of my coffee in the sink. “Keep your eyes on the cameras. Call me if needed.”

“Yep, boss,” Dominic says.

I head straight to the small sitting area opposite the kitchen and shut the door behind me. I take a deep breath in before I plop down on the couch.