got a great idea. There's this awesome job where you can get paid up front―”
“No,” I interrupt before she's finished.
“Brady, stop being so damn stubborn.” She's starting to whine and I'm losing my patience. “They called again and raised the price. All you have to do is―”
“NO.” My feet slam back down to the floor, and I raise my voice, letting her know this isn't up for discussion.
“You don’t even want to know how much they want to pay you?” Gwen asks in a high pitch voice that makes me want to stab a pencil in my ear as she follows behind me like an annoying puppy—like Mitzy, but yappier.
“No amount of money is enough for me to follow around some pop star diva princess who has more money than she knows what to do with and probably invented this little stalker because her name hasn’t been in the tabloids in at least three point two days. Sorry, no.”
I press the power button on my computer, completely forgetting about the whole no-electricity dilemma.
“Hey, Einstein, last time I checked, computers run on electricity,” Gwen says cockily.
“It’s too early for this,” I mutter, scrubbing my hands over my face. “I need coffee.”
“In case you weren’t aware, coffee pots also run on electricity,” Gwen says with a smirk before she turns and walks over to her desk and takes a seat, turning her chair so she can stare at me and smile.
I ignore her gaze and pick up the phone to check my messages to see if any new clients had called overnight.
“Oh yeah, remember that new phone system you said would be more efficient? Guess what it runs on?”
I grind my teeth together and exhale loudly through my nose, counting to ten in my head before I do what I really want to―pick up the phone console and heave it across the room, preferably at my sister’s head. My mood instantly sobers when I remember the kind of life she's lived for the past seven years.
I slam the receiver down in its cradle and sit silently at my desk, tapping my fingers on the wood.
If I only had my well-being to worry about, this wouldn’t even be an issue. I'd decline the job and figure out another way to pay the bills. There's a cheating spouse job I had put on the back burner because it's boring as hell, but that would only last a day or two. It may pay the electric bill, but it won't pay Gwen’s salary. Asking her to quit her full-time waitressing job where she was guaranteed a paycheck puts added pressure on my shoulders. I'm still kicking myself in the ass every single day for being too caught up in the Navy SEALS, and then the police force, to notice what was going on with my own sister. I'll do right by her and make up for everything she's gone through if it's the last thing I do. Even if it means taking a job that goes against every single moral, ethical, and personal belief I’ve ever had.
When I first left the Navy SEALS a little over a year ago, I spent a few months with the Nashville police force. I experienced my fair share of celebrity craziness from arresting the spoiled daughter of a hotel mogul for a cocaine bender that left one of Nashville’s most popular restaurants trashed beyond recognition to turning down “tips” handed to me on the sly if I just did the collagen-injected, silicone-enhanced country music star one “teensy tiny favor” and not put that she was having sex with her underage back-up dancer when her husband came home and died of a heart-attack in my police report. I couldn’t make that shit up if I tried. I was quickly tiring of the outlandish, overindulgent, spoiled rich kids. After my last SEAL mission where my best friends had been injured, and an entire team of SEALS I'd known since the Naval Academy were all killed, I thought maybe the hustle and bustle of the Nashville police force would keep my mind off of the dark thoughts and endless guilt. All it did was make things worse.
Three months after moving to Nashville, I went out on a routine domestic violence call. Everything should have been cut and dry: separate the victim from the supposed attacker and get each of their statements so we could sort things out back at the station. I had no idea we were walking into a hostage situation