Kill Like A Gentleman ✓

(3) The Four

LIE. THAT'S WHAT HE asked me to do. I thought he was just fooling around with me, but the seriousness on his face made me realize that he wasn't joking at all.

"Lie?" I ask to clarify it, but Cyrus looked like he was getting annoyed by how I was stalling. He might not be the patient type of guy. He was standing a few inches away from me. Not too close, but not too far either. He was waiting, and him just simply waiting for me to say something made me nervous.

What is going on with me? Why am I suddenly feeling like this?

"Any time now, Mr. Carter," he says, the smirk on his face making me uneasy.

I have to say something now.

"Focus," I tell myself, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath while gripping on the armrest of my seat. I try to brush the nervousness away, and when I was finally ready, I open my eyes back and look at him with a serious expression.

"If the time comes, you will never see me pointing my gun at you. For the end of that gun will be on me, and you will be the one to pull the trigger," I finally tell him, hoping that those words would at least impress him.

Cyrus stares at me for a second, his expression once again unreadable. But after examining me, his seriousness vanishes, and his smirk returns. He pats my shoulder twice and walks back to his chair so he could sit back down.

"What a charming lie. It's very appealing," he tells me with a chuckle, but like someone flicked a switch, his serious expression returns within a second, "But I wasn't convinced enough."

I couldn't help but gulp again as I watch Cyrus intertwine his fingers and rest his chin on top of them.

"You know who lies the best?" he asks me, the question suddenly out of place.

"Lawyers?" I answer, but with a hint of doubt.

"No, it's gentlemen," he answers. Without pulling his fingers apart, he puts his hands down. "Lies are a gentleman's manner. They make the most lies, for they have to be polite not to say the wrong things," he continues.

"What is a good lie then?" I ask him, curious because I thought I really did a good job earlier. I wanted to know his criteria for judgment. I have to know what a good lie is to him.

"The best lies are when the person speaking believes that it's not a lie at all. Let me ask you a question, Mr. Carter. Do you love your father?" he asks. I was confused at first but I nodded my head with no hesitation and answered him, "Of course, he's my father."

He smirks.

"That... is what you call a good lie," he says, making me flinch for some reason.

What did he mean by a good lie? That wasn't a lie at all. I loved my—

Loved. That's right. I loved him. Not love him.

"You see the difference now?" he asks while staring at me. He must have seen the sudden realization written on my face.

"Why is that even important? I'm a bodyguard. I won't be talking, which means I won't be lying, which also means I don't need to be good at it," I tell him with a serious expression, and suddenly the smirk on Cyrus's face turns into a grin—a grin that caused the hair on my skin to stand.

"And that... is how you convince me," he says, and my eyes widen from surprise.

He's really good. Not just dangerous, but smart too. He's already on to me, but there's no backing out now. I'll just see how all this will go.

"You're hired," he finally declares. "Starting today, you will be staying with me. Wherever I go, you will be there. Protecting is a word I don't like using, so we'll be using the word guarding instead. Your uniform and equipment will be given to you tomorrow. I don't particularly like noise, but if I ask you to speak, you speak," he tells me, and I nodded my head in understanding.