Marco
Copy that. See you at noon.
Ignoring the glares from my coworkers, I got to work.
I was not surprised when Marco pulled up in front of the garage at exactly twelve o’clock in a black Ford F-150 pickup. I was surprised when another guy got out of the truck, and they both walked into my bay, where I was putting away my tools. Marco was a big guy, taller and broader than me, and his friend was pretty close to the same size. They wore faded blue jeans and black T-shirts. When they got closer, I realized they had the same bone frog tattoo on their left biceps, with the same initials and date underneath it. They must have served together and lost fellow SEALs in combat. I wiped my hands with a rag and went to greet them. “Hey, Marco. Thanks for coming. I appreciate it.”
“No problem at all.” He gestured to the man beside him. “This is my friend, Gabe Warner. We served together, and now he works with me at my brother’s security company.”
I held out my hand. “Nice to meet you, Gabe. Thanks for helping out today.”
Gabe took my hand in a firm grip. “You bet. Always happy to help. Even if you are Army.”
I rolled my eyes and smiled. “I just need to wash my hands, and I’ll be ready to go.”
“What the hell is this?” Jeff’s voice came from behind me. “This ain’t some fucking tea party. You’re supposed to be working.”
I blew out a frustrated breath and turned to face him. “You know I’m leaving early. I told you all week and three times this morning. Give it up.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Marco move to stand next to me. Jeff’s brow furrowed. “Who the hell are you?”
Marco’s eyes narrowed and he leveled a flat stare at Jeff. “Friends of Zach’s. We’re helping him move today, and you’re in the way.”
For the first time since I’d known him, I saw a look of fear in Jeff’s eyes. I knew Marco D’Angelo was a dangerous man, but for him to be able to scare a man with just a look was something else. Jeff took a step back and then just turned and left without another word.
“Damn, you’ve still got that death glare down to an art,” Gabe said.
“I see a lot of assholes in my line of work,” Marco replied.
“True that,” Gabe said.
I gestured in the vague direction of the sink. “I’m going to wash up. I’ll be out in a minute.”
“We’ll wait by the truck,” Marco said. “And we’ll keep an eye on your car in case that asshole tries to block it in or something equally stupid.”
Jeff didn’t leave his office while we were there.
CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE
ZACH
Saturday morning, Miguel and I had to drag our sorry asses out of bed to work at Moonlight after staying up way too late the night before with all our friends. Marco had stayed overnight at Liam’s cottage behind the hotel, so he saw us zombie walk in and, of course, had to bust on us.
“Having a little trouble this morning?” he asked fake-innocently.
Miguel shook his head and muttered, “More coffee,” before continuing into the hotel.
I rubbed my face. “Too much food and alcohol. Your crew takes their beer and pizza seriously.” In addition to Gabe, Marco had recruited three other ex-military badasses to join us. With their help, we’d gotten done faster than expected and, as a result, ate and drank way more than we should have.
Marco snorted, “You should see them after a mission.”
“Mission?”
His expression shuttered and he took a beat too long to answer. “My brother’s security company does overseas personnel extractions.”
I’d been in the military long enough to know when I shouldn’t ask follow-up questions, so I just said, “Wow. I’ll bet that can get rough.”
“Definitely.”
