I made sure I got the paperwork for the club officially filed away, stopped at the gun range, went to the car wash and did some clothing and grocery shopping. I made some late lunch, packed the leftovers for work and headed out to the club. There was a small mini fridge in my office that I stocked with water, mylunch and some snacks inside and on top of it in a little basket my sister had given me.
I cleaned the office and moved some things around to make it feel more unique to me and by the time I finished up, Bishop was standing outside of the entrance with one hand in his pocket. I saw him on the security camera before he shot me a text message but I waited to receive it before hopping up anyway.
“What’s up?” I pushed the door open and moved over so he could enter the club. I locked the door up behind him.
“What’s up?” He looked me up and down but I acted like I didn’t notice as I led him back to my office where we sat on opposite sides of my desk facing each other.
“Alright.” I yanked the desk drawer open, grabbed a pen and pad and tossed them on my desk. “Let me hear it.”
“We come out occasionally. We do our best to keep low profiles. We use this space for big events but we always pay for whatever we expect and on a lot of nights we bring in our own security. They’re trained. They’re legal. They carry. Your current staff knows them. We match whatever you have on the floor and besides breaking up a few fist fights, we haven’t had to use them for much. My brothers and I are always strapped. Your guys typically let us through security anyway. We don’t have any big enemies but we’re not the type of men that can occupy space without our pieces on us.” Bishop dug in his pocket and plucked out a piece of paper that he handed over. “Every name on that list is one of our guys. We don’t swap them out and we don’t do substitutions. They’re consistent and constant.”
“Good to know.” I slowly unfolded the paper and glanced down at the ten names written there. “Yeah, nah. I mean, I understand that this is how things have been going for however long, but that’s not going to work for me,” I admitted. “You and your brothers can still carry in here. That’s fine, but these ten people?” I shook my head while reading the last few names onthe list. “I can give you two or three of them tops. I can’t have fourteen random men running through my spot with guns on them.”
“I understand that you don’t know us and that our word may not be all that good to you just yet, but we need at least four people on our security team to pass, one for each of us.”
I exhaled. “Alright, look, I can do that. You and your brothers will get a pass and your favorite four bodyguards. That’s it, at least until I find out if I can trust y’all or not.”
Bishop smiled. “Sounds good.”
“I need to know what four though.” I turned the paper toward him and dropped a pen on top of it.
He didn’t hesitate. He grabbed the pen and quickly drew stars next to four names on the list.
“If for some reason one of them can’t make it, I’ll let you know ahead of arrival which one is picking up for their loss.”
“Alright. Look, I’m trusting you Bishop. Don’t make me regret that.”
“Yeah, alright.” Bishop snickered. “Do you have security experience?” he asked.
“I have military experience.” I leaned back in my seat.
“How many years?”
“A cool eight.”
Bishop whistled. “What made you go from serving our country to serving drinks?”
“Change of scenery,” I deadpanned. He chuckled. I smirked. “Nah. It was just time to be honest. I enlisted at eighteen. I didn’t know what the fuck I wanted to do with my life. Then, I met a woman while enlisted. We fell in love and did the whole marriage thing. When we divorced, shit got hazy for a little bit and I decided I needed to figure shit out on my own. I was out there alone, no family, our friends felt split between us and it wasn’t that big of a base so shit was awkward all around and itjust wasn’t good for me. Now, I’m my own boss. I make my own rules. I get to wake up when I want to and call my own shots.”
“Sorry about the divorce but congratulations on the freedom.”
“Thanks.” I let my eyes trail up and down Bishop. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“What’s your story?”
“What have you heard?”
“You think I’ve heard things about you?” I lifted an eyebrow and smirked.
“Oh, definitely.” A smile crossed Bishop’s face. “You said it yourself, remember?”
“I just heard that your family believes in arranged marriages.”
“They do,” he nodded once. “We get married at twenty-five.”
“Jesus-fucking- how old are you?”
