Free Brutal by K.S. Adkins

he’ll likely pick her up. After this interview, though? I’ll be right back at it.
    Walking into the club, I was expecting a total shit box, but it has the basics as far as clubs go, I guess. The Captain and Rafe gave me one helluva convincing background. Military, PI work, and even guarding local celebrities. I’ve had run ins with the law, and have the habit of taking things too far. My file also says I’m canned a lot, due to my anger issues. They made me sound like an unstable asshole. So, yeah, they did good.
    I figured Gallo would be here to grill me, but was surprised to see I’d be meeting with Max alone. He better not be with Venessa. I hadn’t planned on that. Last I knew, she was having lunch with Max, but Max is here. Fuck.
    “Mr. Black, I’m Max Allen. Glad you could make it on such short notice. You understand what we need you for?” he asks, straight to the point.
    “Personal protection for your female DJ,” I answer straight.
    “Yeah well, it’s not just when she’s here. I trust you’re aware of whom we’re speaking?” he asks.
    “Kharma, yeah, I’ve heard of her. I don’t do the club scene, but word gets around. She having problems?” I ask.
    “She draws a big crowd. Thing is, some think they have rights to get close to her. Touch her, that kind of thing. But the thing is, she doesn’t like to be touched without permission. So we don’t want this getting out of hand. When we get full, security can’t be where I need ‘em, and that’s where you come in,” he says.
    “There’s more here. What is it? Is the situation escalating?” I ask already knowing the answer
    “Fuck yeah, it’s escalating. I got the DPD busting in here, putting their hands on her. I got motherfuckers following her home. We want to know she’s safe 24/7, and by any means necessary. Based on what I read, that shouldn’t be a problem for you. Is it?”
    “Who’s we?”
    “A partner of mine cares deeply for Ms. Cross, and her personal safety. He recommended you. If she’s safe and happy, then we got no problems,” he answers.
    “No. It’s not a problem for me, as long as you let me handle her my way,” I say.
    “By handle her, I hope you mean protecting her, because she ain’t no helpless female. You try handling her, and we’re gonna have us some problems. You handle her safety, and let us worry about the rest.”
    “What does she think of all this?”
    “She thinks it’s unnecessary,” a voice answers, and it’s the one I fell asleep to last night. I pray to Glock I’m able to play it cool and actually speak to her. Otherwise…
    “You’re early, sweetheart.” He smiles.
    “Actually, you’re late. When you didn’t text back, I figured you’d be here. So who’s this?”
    I have to admit that the female has style. She’s also sneaky; I hadn’t realized she'd left.
    “This sweetheart, is Rogan Black. Your new shadow,” he says with authority.
    “I see. Mr. Black, yeah? What exactly is your job?” she asks, baiting me. It’s like a cheesy version of good cop worse cop. She’s a fucking pro.
    I clear my, throat hoping to make a good impression. “My job is to keep you safe, nothing more nothing less, by any means necessary. That clear enough for you?” I say and I worry when she glares at me. Shit. Did I read that wrong?
    “Max, may I have a word with you, please?” she asks, and I know I fucked up. I should have stayed silent.
    “Ma’am, let me try this again. My job is to keep you safe. Not get in your way. If you’re open to it, we can make it work to where you won’t even know I’m there…much,” I say, hoping this works.
    “Fine,” she says, mulling it over. “If Max thinks it’s a good idea, then it’s a good idea. But I want to go on record and say that I don’t like it. You hired a guy to watch me who doesn’t go to clubs?” she says, looking at Max. “This ought to be fun. And don’t ma’am me, ever. Gross.” And with that, she walks off.
    “What