Chapter 77: Drummer Boys Flash Gang Signs

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Bodie

"What the fuck?" I mutter to Marley in disbelief. She's also looking back with a face of surprise. I just asked the driver to pull inat the next exit, because Gwen has to pee, and he...he objected. Said traffic was heavy and there was a less busy exit fifteen minutes down the road.

"Maybe he's...new?" Marley muses.

New or not, our Atlanta security detail are pro's. Our driver-slash-security guys do not object to mundane shit. They find a way to do what they are asked, even if it's a security inconvenience.

"I can wait," Gwen the pretty peacemaker says at once, reading the irritation on my face.

"Naw." I punch the call button again. "Dude, it wasn't a suggestion."

Silence is his only reply. Marley and I exchange another surprised glance. She crawls across my lap to punch the button and go merciless manager on him, but I grab her hands, wrapping them behind her as I kiss her. Darius snorts, but I ignore him.

"You're off the clock, Gorgeous. I got this."

I slide her off my lap and crawl up the ridiculously large interior to the privacy window. It's locked. I rap.

Is it me, or does he open reluctantly?

"Yes sir?" he says, with the kind of resentment that I recognize.

Ah. It happens sometimes...a surly service worker. Especially with a young guy like this. He doesn't look a day over twenty-two. In fact, he looks a little lightweight to be a security guy.

Either way, Dude apparently resents the fuck out of "servicing" rich people for a living. Still, he don't exactly make minimum wage working security so he needs to straighten up.

"Listen, what's your name? Cause I need to know, for the Gram I'm posting about being kidnapped," I joke.

He gives me a sharp look, but then he laughs a little nervously and his tone lightens considerably. "I'm sorry, sir. I...I've...it's...my first week."

Maybe it's just the soft Irish accent that makes him sound more agreeable as he says, "It's a bit of a juggle, making the exit safely, thinking about the security logistics of what you asked, taking a call from dispatch, and answering you from the back..."

"It's cool, just pull off here," I gesture at the QT sign rising above the exit. He nods tersely.

I sigh when we pull in and he's still got the back doors locked. Gwen squirms a little as we wait on him to open the door. Darius, usually attentive and gentlemanly, is absorbed by some TikTok on his phone and doesn't follow her out.

It's just as well. This is an urban hood, and I feel better being the one to walk her in.

Unbelievably, the driver follows. Man, this kid really doesn't know his job. He should stay with the car. My woman and kid are in there. I'll have to speak to his supervisor, because all my security guys know that they are the primaries, not me, when on my detail.

I'm standing by the hallway to bathroom in the back, glaring at him as he stands by the glass door at the front. His eyes are roving. He ignores two black girls that exit—barely moving to make way for them. Then a pretty teenage white girl approaches to leave with her purchase. He smiles brightly and opens the door for her.

Ah. Not just new to the job and resentful of rich people. He's not going to make it on my detail.I look at him more closely, trying to figure out if he even realizes his prejudices, because a lot of people don't—

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