Packing Heat(74)

“Nash, I’ve been warning you for weeks now. I’ve been warning you that your behavior has been deplorable, that you couldn’t keep acting like a drunken idiot all the time.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “What are you getting at?”

“You’re supposed to be the face of this war, Nash. You’re an all-American boy.”

“I never asked for any of that.”

“Too bad,” she said, sighing. “You’re supposed to be a moral, upstanding person.”

“And yet I’m the depraved asshole we both know and love.”

She smiled slightly. Livy wasn’t so bad looking. She was in her mid-thirties, incredibly tightly wound, with dark hair always kept in a bun, thin red lips, and a thin, tall body.

“Yes, exactly,” she said. She paused and sighed again, her smile disappearing. “You’re not going to like this.”

“Just say it, damn it,” I said. “Quit playing around.”

“Do you know what a morality clause is?”

“Not really.”

“It’s a clause in your contract. It basically means you have to be a moral, good person, the kind of hero the American people want and need. Otherwise, you’re in breach.”

“How the fuck can a contract control my actions?” I said, annoyed.

“It can’t. But if Chuck and the board decide that you’re antics are getting out of hand, they can invoke the morality clause and take everything away from you.”

I stared at her for a second as that sank in. “You’re fucking threatening me,” I said slowly.

“I’m not threatening,” she said. “This isn’t coming from me.”

“I know what a threat sounds like.”

She shook her head. “Listen to me, Nash. Threat or no threat, you have to get your shit together. Otherwise, Chuck is going to cut you out of any future deals regarding your book.”

“He can’t do that,” I said. “I’m the damn face of this whole fucking thing.”

“He can and he will.” She paused, looking at her phone again. “They’re optioning the book into a movie, you know. Lots of money you won’t get if you don’t get yourself together.”

I stared at her silently, raging on the inside. I wanted to smash something, scream in her face, but I knew that throwing a tantrum wasn’t going to fix shit.

Fact of the matter was, I was tied to these fucking corporate suits whether I liked it or not. I didn’t much care about their money, but I needed it anyway. I couldn’t let them cut me out, otherwise I’d be fucked on too many levels to count.

“Looks like I’m screwed,” I said.

“Just behave and you’ll be fine.” She looked back at her phone. “Now, let’s go over the itinerary.”

I half paid attention as she ran through what we were doing for the rest of the day. The book tour was still on-going, but I was ready to call it quits then and there. Suddenly, I had some assholes in a boardroom telling me how to act, telling me what I could and couldn’t do. I could break their spines with my bare hands, kill them all without blinking an eye, and yet I was supposed to be their proper little fucking American hero.

I hated that shit.

I was my own person, my own man. Maybe I’d gotten tangled up in this book business shit, but I’d never really asked for it.

Fucking bastards had me by the balls and they knew it.

I shook my head, staring out the window, plotting my next move.

I wasn’t going to be cowed, made to bow down.

I’d play their game. But I’d play it my way, and to fucking win.





3





Selena





I climbed out of the Uber, feeling incredibly out of place.

It wasn’t often that I put on one of my most expensive dresses and went to meet a stranger at a nice bar. Actually, as far as I could remember, I hadn’t worn this dress since a wedding a few years earlier. It was short, black, and tight, showing off way too much cleavage, but it was the best I had on such short notice.

I frowned as I walked into the restaurant. Butcher And Singer was an upscale steak house, the sort of place where I couldn’t afford a drink, let alone an actual meal. The place was quiet inside, dimly lit and expensive looking. The woman standing at the hostess station looked like she could have been a model, all angular thin lines and tall legs.

“Can I help you?” she asked pleasantly.

“Yes, hi. I’m supposed to meet someone here.”

“Name?”

“Nash.”

She glanced up at me, and I couldn’t help but notice the brief moment of surprise that crossed her face. She quickly looked back down at her book and nodded. “Right this way.”