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    craftingmom
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

All In - 1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

 

He stared down at the SUV pulling up the driveway. From his perch in the window, he had a good view of the man as he stepped from the vehicle.

He sneered down at the dark-haired man, noting how the guy tried to fix his appearance, straightening his shirt, smoothing down his hair.

Fuck, another asshole of Brad's. Probably one of his old high school buddies or college poker friends. Wonder what this one wants. How much money did Brad shell out to buy off this guy? Maybe he'll just go the fuck away before I have to meet him.

His deep blue eyes tracked the guy to the front door, before his hand returned to the notebook on his lap, his pencil finishing the shading of the long sword, dripping blood.

 

-7-

 

He looked up at the huge brick mansion in front of him and whistled as he climbed out of his leased Ford Explorer. He had parked off to the side of the large circular driveway that was lined with small lights and brightly colored flowers. The lawn was immaculate and looked so lush and green it almost looked fake.

He slammed the door shut as he smoothed his hands over the maroon button down shirt tucked into his black jeans. He was beginning to think maybe he was underdressed.

Man, Brad, you've really done well for yourself, he mused, self-consciously raking his hand through his dark mocha waves. He stepped up the brick porch and knocked on the huge double doors that graced the front of the house.

A scowling man opened the front door, and his heart jumped into his throat at the sight of the shoulder holster and gun displayed so blatantly.

"Yes?" the deep voice growled down at him.

"Um, Br--uh, Mr. Milburn invited me to come by," he finally stammered. "I'm Jason Yates."

The hulk just grunted and stepped back, allowing him to enter the foyer. The hardwood floors gleamed in the sunlight streaming through the huge windows, but the air inside was cool and smelled of fresh cut flowers. Upon glancing around he found a couple of vases of large fragrant flowers on decorative tables in the wide entryway.

"Hey, Jason, come on in!" A familiar voice came from the side.

Jason sighed in relief at the sight of his high school buddy, a familiar face in the overwhelming opulence of the massive estate. After a quick glance at the scowling hulk, Jason turned his attention to his buddy and grinned. The man was gorgeous still, all muscle and shoulders and the thick thighs that he used to watch run up and down the football field. Brad's dark auburn hair was cut shorter now, and he looked more business-like in his black slacks and crisp white shirt, but he still had that gleam of mischief in his hazel eyes.

"Brad," he greeted warmly. "It's good to see you again. Thanks for inviting me."

Brad grabbed his offered hand but immediately pulled him into the guy clench, and Jason felt his heart beat just a little faster. While at 6'2 he was no shorty, Brad towered over him by a good three inches, even if they were fairly equally matched in breadth.

"Come on in here," Brad's large hand spread warmly over his shoulder, caressing it as he guided him to a large, warmly decorated room off to the right. It was obviously the man's home office. It had a huge mahogany desk that held a laptop, and several locked file cabinets lined the back wall. A black leather couch and love seat around a sleek black coffee table created a comfortable sitting area.

Brad stopped at a small bar area to the left of the doorway, setting out two tumblers and dropping in ice. He poured scotch over the ice and handed one to Jason as they both sat down.

"You have a really nice place," Jason said, gesturing with the hand holding the crystal glass.

"Sit," Brad waved as he smiled and sat down on the love seat as Jason sat in the corner of the leather couch. "And thanks, but this isn't all mine," he said. "Well, it is, but this," he swept his arm as if to indicate everything, "this is inherited."

"Ahh," Jason nodded, taking a sip of the ridiculously smooth and obviously expensive scotch. He knew his high school friend had excelled in his construction business, but he hadn't expected all this. Brad had been a determined kid, even in high school, always looking to earn more money faster. Which, he supposed, is what kept them closer over the years than they probably would have been after high school--the knowledge of each other's previous 'indiscretions'. Of course, Brad Milburn had gone on to become a successful construction company owner, and Jason ... well ... hadn't.

Jason sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He swallowed hard as he stared at the table in front of him. "Uh, Brad, I want to thank you again," he began awkwardly. Now that he was face to face with the man who'd saved him from certain bankruptcy, he was unsure of what the man would think of him. "For bailing me out. You didn't have to do that."

"Jase, it was no problem," Brad smiled easily, leaning back casually and crossing his ankle over his knee.

Jason knew it probably wasn't much to Brad Milburn to pay off his debt, but it meant everything to Jason. His garage had been doing well for a while, but the last couple years, with the downturn of the economy, his business had floundered and he'd been falling further and further into the red. And with his father now needing to be in a nursing home, he had seen no end to the hole he'd fallen into. Brad had changed that.

Brad was his savior. His and his father's.

Jason felt tears threatening to form when he looked up at the grinning former football star.

"God, Brad, really..."

Brad dropped his foot to the ground and leaned forward. "Jason, you're my friend. We go way back. Between my business and inheriting my father's fortune, I think I can afford to help out a friend or two."

"Well, I'm forever in your debt," Jason admitted. "If you need anything... a good mechanic or ... well, anything," Jason glanced up shyly, "I'm there."

"Well, I did ask you here with an ulterior motive in mind," Brad said softly, putting his glass down on the coffee table.

Jason frowned but knew he'd do anything that Brad Milburn wanted. Brad had paid off his nearly half a million dollar debt and paid the next year's worth of nursing home fees for his father while Jason tried to find a decent job and get back on his feet.

"I have an offer. A job offer," Brad stated.

"A job?" Jason nearly choked. "Brad, you've already done so much for me, you don't have to--"

Brad laughed. "Oh, don't think this is a pity offer, Jase. In fact, you might not even want it after you find out what you have to deal with. But I need someone I can trust for this."

"Well, of course you can trust me, and if you really need the help--"

"Oh, yes, I do, trust me on this," Brad grinned. "And I like to know the people who work for me, who are closest to me and my family, are trustworthy and loyal only to me."

"Who else would I--" Jason frowned.

"You know me. I like to know what all the cards are on the table," Brad said, his eyes boring into Jason. "Know exactly how things will play out."

"You always did," Jason smiled, feeling a little uneasy at the sudden seriousness of his friend's tone. "I used to think you were cheating when we played poker."

Brad laughed slightly. "I did sometimes too. I stacked the deck."

Jason's mouth dropped open at his friend's admission. "You son-of-a-bitch. You made me go all-in, and then wiped me out.

"I don't like to lose."

"Well, I didn't either! But I didn't cheat," Jason snapped, wondering now just how much money he'd lost to his friend over their high school years.

"Don't worry, Jase," Brad smiled. "Haven't I made it up to you?"

Jason had to concede that paying off his debt had more than rectified any thought he might have of still feeling cheated.

"See here's the thing," Brad cut him off, leaning closer and staring down at him with his piercing hazel eyes. "I'm very protective of what is mine. You saw Sam at the door?"

Jason nodded as he remembered the hulk with the gun. "Yeah? I wondered why--"

"Well, there are people who don't like the fact that I have all this," Brad waved again at the expansive house. "Some think I couldn't possibly have gotten it all legally and some think they can take it from me."

Jason blinked in shock. "You aren't like... stealing cars or selling drugs or something still?" Jason asked in a hushed whisper, his mind flitting back to their high school days. He'd left all that behind him, but in the last few months, he'd found himself thinking about those days even more, wondering if he'd have to go back to it.

"Fuck no!" Brad laughed at the worried look in Jason's face. "But some people want to get any dirt they can on me so they can steal my clients or take away from my business."

"Oh," Jason relaxed as he sat back a bit, relieved that his friend was just worried about his business assets.

"Which is why I make sure those closest to me are people I can trust with my life," Brad said. "Hence, Sam out there. He's been with me for years now. I helped him out of some trouble he'd run into and he's been working as my body guard for over four years now."

Jason smiled. "Seems like a nice guy," he said sarcastically.

The auburn-haired man chuckled. "Oh, he's okay. Just have to get to know him."

"Okay, so what do you want from me?"

"I need a bodyguard," Brad said bluntly.

Jason frowned and his eyes flicked to the door. "But you have the hulk out there."

"The hulk, huh?" Brad laughed. "I'll have to tell Sam you said that. No, Sam is my guard. I need someone to watch my little brother." Brad turned to the door. "Sam! Can you get Devyn and bring him in here, please?"

"Yes, sir," came the deep voice from the hall.

"Your--?" Jason sat stunned. Since when did Brad have a brother? He'd been friends with Brad all through high school and didn't know the man had a brother. How was that possible?

Brad chuckled as he took another sip of his scotch. "I can see you're confused. He's not my real brother. He's my step-brother. My dad married his mom about six years ago. When dad and my new stepmom were killed four years ago in a car crash, I became his guardian."

"Guardian?" Jason was having trouble wrapping his head around the idea that Brad Milburn had children in his care now. This was the man that he'd sat with in his basement smoking pot on the weekends, playing poker with their buddies.

"Yeah, don't be so surprised, Jase. I am an adult now, you know," Brad chastised.

"I-I know. I just--" Jason stammered, unsure of what to say.

"I know, you can't imagine me with a kid, huh?"

"No, not really. He didn't have any other family?"

Brad shook his head sadly. "Unfortunately, no. There's a grandmother--his father's mother, but she's in a home in upstate NY with Alzheimer's."

"Well, shit," Jason breathed. "I'm sorry."

Brad's handsome face turned darker. "Yeah, well, he was lucky. He survived the crash that killed Dad."

And Jason thought he heard some bitterness seep though in his friend's voice. Did he resent that his step-sibling survived the crash when his father was killed?"

"So anyway," Brad sighed heavily, "It's Devyn that I need someone to watch."

"Is this kid in danger or something? Why would you need a bodyguard for your step-brother?"

An uneasy smile spread across Brad's face. "Well, it's not so much to guard him from danger, as much as from well... trouble."

"Trouble?" Jason quirked an eyebrow.

"Yeah. He's actually a bit... hostile. Gets into fights. He's always hated me, and we've gotten into it a couple times too."

"Really?" Jason was beginning to be worried as to what kind of trouble this little kid could be.

"I have to home school him. He's a real spoiled brat. I can't trust him to be on his own and not get into trouble. He has several tutors that he goes to--"

"So, really, I'm his babysitter," Jason surmised.

Brad looked a little sheepish. "Well, technically--"

"There ain't no technically about it," Jason laughed. "You want me to run this kid around to his tutors and stuff and basically keep him out of trouble."

Brad grinned. "Yep, that's about it."

There was a knock on the doorjamb, and they looked up to see Sam standing there. He pulled on the arm of someone, then thrust them into the room.

Jason stared in shock.

It wasn't a kid. It was a beautiful young man.

The teen who stood in the doorway with the openly venomous look on his face glared at both of them. And Jason knew he was in trouble.

Thanks for reading!
Copyright © 2014 craftingmom; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

Ah, family complexity and sibling rivalries, complicated by lineage. This will make for an interesting if not volatile relationship me finks. :)

I was a little perplexed at a building magnet worrying about loosing customers over some family issue, or maybe I misunderstood that bit.

Interesting start. I like the name Devyn. Such an unusual spelling. First time I've seen it come to think of it. :)

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