Free Cash Out by Greg Bardsley

some connections to the security crowd, and someone in that circle is paying this guy to fuck with you.” Rod pauses, thinks about it. “Doesn’t sound like an amateur.” He glances at me, stoic, and returns his gaze to the yard. “You got lucky, Danny. Real lucky.” He shakes his head, exhales hard. “Never do that again.”
    I take a pull off my Modelo. “I wasn’t thinking.”
    â€œYou’re lucky your friend Calhoun was there.”
    I roll my eyes.
    â€œScrewed things up for you, but probably saved your life.”
    It’s hard to accept it, but I’m starting to realize: No Calhoun there, it would have been just me and Baldy, and chances are I would’ve been pounded to jelly.
    â€œGuess I can’t blame you.” He takes a swig, keeps his gaze on the yard. Rod loves my boys—more than anything, maybe. “I’d have killed him.”
    â€œSo I’m not crazy.”
    â€œ ’Course not.” He sighs. “Problem is, with a guy like that, if he’s what I think he is—a pro? If you redid that sandbox fight twenty times, he would’ve killed you the other nineteen.”
    My stomach sinks.
    â€œI mean, the guy pulled a knife. But, hey.” He lifts his Modelo toward me. Instinctively, I clank my bottle with his. “You took care of your people, and he’s beat up.”
    My mind is swimming, but I have to admit it’s satisfying, knowing I got the best of him.
    Rod says, “What about the guys at FlowBid?”
    â€œWhich guys?”
    â€œThe security team for Fitzroy.”
    â€œYeah?”
    â€œYou think you could trust them? Maybe they’d tell you if they’re having problems on their end.” He pauses. “You know, if someone sent a guy like that asshole after you , what are they pulling on the big cheese himself?”
    I hadn’t thought of that. Fitzroy’s security team consists of two relentlessly congenial guys with law-enforcement and military backgrounds. I’ve always joked to Kate that they’re the nicest guys you’ll ever meet . . . who are ready to break your neck should you endanger the merchandise, i.e., Fitzroy. I’ve never witnessed one incident that even remotely required their services, but ever since we went public and amassed those billions, the FlowBid board of directors has required the security detail. Unlike other companies with deeper “bench strength,” FlowBid is seen by many analysts as a one-man show. In other words, if Fitzroy bites the dust, so will the company’s market cap, not to mention the investments of all our shareholders, which includes a handful of very heavily invested (and rich) people. Regardless, the fact that the board thinks Fitzroy needs security always gave me a chuckle. Until today.
    â€œCheck them out,” Rod says. “See what kind of information they volunteer. Hell, maybe you’ll feel safe telling them about this bald guy.”
    I shake my head. “Can’t do that.” I almost laugh, because I don’t think Rod realizes how easily rumors travel in corporate. “I have to last two more days without creating a stir. Those guys hear about Baldy, the fact I attacked a man? . . . No way.”
    Rod frowns, and a deep growl rumbles inside his chest. “So that’s what this is about—money. That’s the problem with this place. Everyone is obsessed with money.” He glares at me, looks away. “What the fuck happened to you, Danny? What the fuck happened to the guy who just wanted to chase the truth? The guy who wouldn’t get caught dead in a suit? Now you’re playing games with millionaires and hired security pros.” He pauses and shakes his head. “Taking huge risks with your family.”
    I put the Modelo down a little too hard. “Don’t give me that again,” I say. “It’s easy to be idealistic when all you have