“Don’t care.”
“Wherever is good.”
“Yeah, I’m cool with whatever.”
A glance in the mirror, and Scott just shrugged.
Looking at Declan, I asked, “What about you, vato? Any preferences?”
“No. The only time I’m here, I stay in the company’s suite at the Majestic.”
Priest leaned forward between the front seats and said, “Your company has a suite at the Majestic?”
Declan nodded, “Yeah. I work as a bodyguard. The clientele likes to party, and Vegas is a hot spot. To make things easier on us, the company keeps a suite. That way, when a client wants to come play, we have a place to put them that we know is safe, secure, and free of bugs and cameras.”
“Damn. Imma need you to hook me up when my enlistment’s up,” Priest said, sitting back in his seat.
The other guys murmured their agreement, and I chuckled. I was positive it wasn’t all fancy ass cars and luxury suites, and I said so.
“God, no. For the most part, we have great clients, and I’ve been on staff for some long-term placements, and those are fine because you and the client get to know each other’s quirks, but then you get a diva or some entitled assmunch you’d rather gut then guard. And you’ve gotta hold your tongue while taking an ass-chewing from the client because you failed to keep their stupidity out of the gossip rags and off TMZ.”
“Okay, yeah, that doesn’t sound like much fun.”
“It’s not. It’s also why I’m free this weekend. The boss came in to relieve me so I could blow off some steam after a tough assignment.”
“Wow, the boss, huh? Cameron, why don’t you relieve us…”
My eyebrow arched, but before I could say anything, Slone and Scott popped Priest in the back of the head as Hayden and Ewen looked at him and Ewen said, “Do we need to remind you…”
“Damn, y’all suck. And no, Ewen, I don’t need a reminder.”
Declan chuckled. “Priest reminds me of my cousin, Lincoln. He’s on my team. He’s usually the smart ass who gets his tits in a twist and mouths off to a protectee.”
“But not this last time?”
Declan just shook his head, then pulled out his buzzing phone. “If you guys are up for it, the suite is free this weekend. Boss man says we can use it.”
“Hell fucking yeah, we’ll use it. Tell the boss we said thanks,” Priest whooped from the backseat.
I leaned over and whispered, “This isn’t gonna cost you, is it?”
Declan looked up at me and shook his head. “No. The hotel provides the company with the suite for overseeing and training their security force. We can use them as long as they are free. Vegas is free on a rare occasion. We got lucky. We have similar arrangements in New York, Chicago, and DC. DC and New York’s suites are never empty.”
I wanted to ask him more, but changed my mind because of the audience in the backseats. Instead, I signaled to get over. Before long I turned into the hotel. A hotel valet stepped forward, opening my door.
“Welcome to the Majestic, sir.”
I nodded, and everyone climbed out. We grabbed our bags and headed to the doors. When we walked through the doors, my mouth fell open. This place was swanky as fuck. Way too swanky for a bunch of Marine Corps grunts in jeans and t-shirts. Looking at the others, only Declan seemed unfazed by the opulent surroundings. He strode into the place like he owned it.
We weren’t more than a few steps into the lobby when a guy in a suit stepped into our path. He had the look of a fed with the dark suit and comms unit in his ear.
“Mr. Holt,” the guy said, his hand outstretched to Declan.
My eyes widened. What the fuck? When did someone get greeted by—the head security guy—by the looks of him, unless I wasn’t mistaken?
“Hello, Marcos. How’s things been?”
“Well, sir. Very well.”
