His Angel

Chapter 2-1

CHAPTER TWO

Angie sat across from her best friend, Jimmy, as they ate at a new Mexican restaurant she’d been dying to try. They continued to catch up with each other, and she wished his visit didn’t have to be so short. While they’d both been raised in upstate New York, after high school graduation, she’d attended college in New York while he had gone into the Marines.

Six years later, he’d been recruited by the DEA and had to change his last name for safety reasons. He now worked in their Atlanta office. At least she didn’t have to worry about his job as much as she used to since he was no longer working deep undercover assignments. Those had kept them from seeing or talking over the phone to each other for months at a time. Now he worked with a team who backed up the undercover guys, but he still had his beard and long hair, which she hated but knew was necessary. He was a good-looking guy when his facial hair was trimmed close, but without it, the man was an absolute hunk and had been since she first met him their freshman year of high school.

They’d tried dating once in their sophomore year, but it didn’t last long because both of them were afraid to ruin the strong friendship which had developed between them. However, he took her to their senior prom after she broke up with the guy she’d been seeing a month earlier. Now the two friends tended to bust chops about each other’s dates yet remained protective of each other. That was why she hadn’t been surprised when Jimmy had made the veiled threat to Brody and his friends . . . talk about hunks.

While her best friend excused himself to use the restroom, Angie’s mind drifted back to her new neighbor and his friends . . . to be more specific, one friend . . . Ian Sawyer. With his black hair, blue eyes, handsome face, and sculpted body, which made her panties wet, the man could be a movie star if he wanted to. Brody had told her Ian was retired from the Navy and owned the security consulting company Brody and the others worked for.

Lately, she’d considered having them upgrade her burglar alarm system. Jimmy always bugged her about how easy it was to bypass the one which had come with the home she’d purchased three years ago. She doubted the company’s owner would do it himself, but she often fantasized about him coming over and installing a new alarm.

In her daydreams, he had on the tight faded jeans and snug, royal-blue T-shirt he’d been wearing the first day she met him while he was helping his friend move in. The color of his shirt had made his eyes stand out to the point she was certain she could drown in them. And, holy crap, his deep voice had sent shivers up and down her spine before settling between her legs. When Brody introduced her to his teammates, she thought Ian had held her hand a moment longer than the others, but it was probably wishful thinking on her part.

“And I was thinking of dying my hair purple and getting a heart tattoo that says ‘bite-me’ on my forehead.”

Angie shook the wayward thoughts from her brain and stared at Jimmy, who was laughing at her shocked expression. “Huh? What’re you talking about?”

“I was wondering where you were. I sat back down and asked you a question, but you were on another planet. I wanted to see how long I could talk gibberish before you noticed.”

She threw a piece of tortilla chip at him. “Jerk. What was the question?”

Tossing the wayward chip in his mouth, he chewed and swallowed before answering her. “How’s work going? Any new clients?”

Angie was a graphic designer who worked from home. She had several corporate clients who sent her a large amount of work, as well as many individual clients needing one-time-only or occasional projects. “I do have a new client, and I’m so excited about them. I’ve been contracted to be one of the designers of romance novel covers for a publishing company called Red Rose Books.”

“Really? That’s awesome, Ang. How’d you hook up with them?”

Grabbing her smartphone, she brought up a photo and showed it to him. “This was one I did for a former advertising client who’s now writing romance books. She thought of me when she was self-publishing her first book and asked if I would design the cover for her. Someone from Red Rose saw it and thought it was edgy and something they’d be interested in, so they tracked me down. It’s a great contract with a decent payout for each one I do. I’ll do about one or two a week, so I can still concentrate on my other customers.”

Jimmy smiled at her. He was always her biggest supporter when it came to her art. “Great. Mr. Abraham would be proud you’ve come this far.”

Mr. Clark Abraham had been her high school art teacher and the first one to recognize the artistic talent even Angie hadn’t known she had. He’d introduced her to the many different art mediums and encouraged her to try them all until she found what fit her best. In addition to graphite pencil drawings and computerized graphic arts, she also dabbled in oil painting and had sold several pieces at a local art gallery over the years.

Thinking of the gray-haired man who’d become her friend and mentor was always bittersweet. He’d suffered a heart attack in his empty classroom during lunch period one afternoon the year after she graduated, and by the time someone found him, it’d been too late.

“Yeah, I know he would have.” Lowering her voice a few octaves, she imitated the old man, “Reds, Angie, why are you so obsessed with the reds? Throw some blue and green in there, maybe a little yellow. Surprise me sometimes, will ya!”

They laughed as they finished their meal and talked about everything under the sun. Angie would miss her friend when he returned to Atlanta tomorrow morning, but for now, she’d make the most of their time together.

* * *

Ian threw the pen down when he realized he’d been chewing on it and glanced at the small brass anchor clock on the right side of his desk. His brother had an identical one, and both had been gifts from their mother when they finally had desks to put them on. He heaved a sigh in frustration because it was only oh-seven-thirty. He had another half hour before Angie’s boyfriend showed up and started answering the many questions Ian had for him.

Before he left Brody’s last night, he’d told the geek to find out everything he could about James Athos and call him as soon as he had it. In the meantime, Ian left a message with Carter to contact him ASAP. Although knowing his friend, it could be a while before the call was returned. Ian didn’t have a direct line to get a hold of the guy—no one did—and had to leave a voice mail at the number he’d memorized years ago. Carter would check his messages only when it was safe for him to do so, which meant it could be hours or days before he got a chance, depending on what he was working on.

The quiet in the empty office he usually enjoyed was getting to him this morning. Standing, he headed outside for some fresh air, with Beau following on his heels. He’d tossed and turned all night with thoughts of Angie doing erotic things to him, alternating with speculation of what her boyfriend wanted with Trident Security. Brody had called him a little before midnight with an update, brief as it was. He got a copy of the thirty-three-year-old’s Georgia driver’s license and found out he had some minor d**g and assault arrests on file with no jail time served. All of which could be part of an undercover persona, as Ian had a feeling it was. Interestingly, prior to nine years ago, James Athos didn’t exist, and Ian wondered how well Angie knew her boyfriend.

Pushing on the office entrance door, he stepped outside, inhaled deeply, and glanced around. From the outside, the complex looked like what it had formerly been—an abandoned warehouse facility on the outskirts of Tampa. Over three years earlier, when he first saw the property, Ian knew it would be the perfect compound for Trident Security. The company he co-owned with his brother specialized in personal security, investigations, and the more-than-occasional black op for Uncle Sam. An import-export company once used the complex until the authorities discovered the main product being processed through there had been cocaine. After the business shut down, Ian purchased the ten-acre lot of land at a government auction for a fraction of its estimated value.

The property contained four identical two-story warehouses lined in a row and was pretty much isolated from everyday traffic, sitting a good mile away from the main thoroughfare. With a mini forest of trees between the buildings and the highway, it was afforded a great deal of privacy.

After extensive renovations, the smallest and last of the warehouses on the property had become the living quarters for both Sawyer brothers. Ian’s three thousand square foot three-bedroom ‘apartment’ was on the first floor, while stairs led up to Devon and Kristen’s place, which had an identical floor plan. The remaining six thousand square feet of the warehouse behind the two apartments was being used as storage, but that would change when they added two new apartments. One would belong to Ian’s goddaughter, and the other was for Nick, the youngest of the Sawyer clan and current Navy SEAL based in California. It would be his for when he visited and eventually retired from the military.

Glancing over at the main gate, Ian waved hello to the morning guard while Beau sniffed along the compound’s fence line. When a person entered the compound through a manned security gate, the first warehouse they came to was home to The Covenant, a club that catered to those who enjoyed some kink in their lives. This was another reason why the property had been ideal for them.

A few years earlier, their cousin, Mitch, approached the brothers with the idea around the same time they were trying to get Trident Security off the ground. The exclusive club they all belonged to before then had closed down after the owner was indicted for tax evasion. The closing had left the members searching for a new place where they could practice their individual s****l fetishes without them becoming public knowledge. Since Ian and Devon were focused on Trident, Mitch, with his MBA, was the obvious choice to manage the club. However, sometimes his cousin deferred to Ian on a few issues since he was the more experienced Dom.

To get from the first warehouse to the remaining three in the compound, visitors had to pass through another security gate which was unmanned. To get through that one, a person had to be either buzzed in or scan their handprint on the sophisticated identification system. The first of those buildings, which Ian was now standing in front of, was separated into two areas, with the main offices of Trident security at the front. At the back end was a large vehicle garage along with the equipment, weapon, and ammunition vaults.

The next structure contained an indoor shooting range, a gym and training room, and a panic-security room in case of an emergency. Some might call the Sawyer brothers paranoid, but one never knew when one’s enemies might come calling, so it was always better to be prepared. In fact, several months ago, the team had almost been picked off by a sniper who’d set up in a tree just past the security system’s line of detection. As a result, Ian and Devon were working on acquiring several undeveloped properties surrounding theirs so they could extend their lines of defense outward.

Ian picked up the hard rubber ball Beau had dropped at his feet and played fetch for about ten minutes until Devon strolled over to greet him, a cup of coffee in his hand. “Morning. Brody find out anything?”

He filled his brother in as he threw Beau’s ball again before turning around and walking back inside to his office. Stopping along the way in their break room, he grabbed his third cup of coffee of the morning and a blueberry muffin from a Tupperware container. The leftover muffins from yesterday were courtesy of Mrs. Kemple, their office manager, since the inception of Trident Security. She’d resigned and moved to Miami to help her daughter with newborn triplets last summer after training a new manager.