Raiden
Raiden only knewone way to really keep himself from falling apart, and that was to punch the hell out of something.
He came at the punching bag with a double jab, then another, followed by a right hook. He started throwing crosses, then went to pounding wildly with right and left hooks while bouncing from side to side. His muscles burned until they sang, and the adrenaline surging through his veins washed away his frustrations until there was only the fight left. He threw a few last jabs, then fell against the punching bag with a gasp, swinging with its weight.
“There you go,” Declan barked. They were in a workout area he had set up in the back of his business, Kaiser Security. “You feeling better?”
Raiden grunted, then pushed the punching bag away. “A little bit.” He landed a few more blows, then stuck out his hand to accept the water Declan offered. The older man had opened the business about a year earlier, and Raiden was a new recruit, still learning some of the basics. He was eager to pick some things up, though and not just because Declan looked intimidating as fuck with his wave of silver hair and faded tattoos.
Raiden gulped the water, then went to pulling off his hand wraps. Declan had only given him a couple jobs, easy gigs at a few small concerts. Still, Raiden had been feeling cocky about how good he was at the security game, considering his previous career experience had more to do with grand theft auto. But then he’d picked up another weekend gig, this time standing by the front door at a dinner party for stuck-up assholes. He was supposed to spend the whole evening just chilling outside this big brick mansion while SUVs rolled up and dropped off people who ignored him.
Kaiser Security had rented him a tux and everything.
The job should have been cake, but then some spoiled teen had noticed the flames tattooed on his wrist and started asking him annoying questions, making Raiden’s eye twitch.
Are you a pyromaniac? Don’t you wish you were inside the party instead of standing out here like a loser? You think you’re tough, don’t you? But you look like a big dumb dog in that tux.
And then the brat had started poking Raiden, right in the chest, and his vision had turned red.
As far as Raiden was concerned, he should have gotten a medal for not laying the jackass out flat right there. The sneer in his voice alone was obnoxious enough to warrant it. Instead, he’d managed to hold his shit together. He just gritted his teeth until the kid went back inside, and then, about two seconds later, he finally lost it. He kicked the brick wall as hard as he could, and when he kicked it again, the pain that jolted up his leg sent him over the edge, and Raiden roared and cursed a storm loud enough to disturb the host’s birthday toast over the dinner table.
“Raiden, you still with me, buddy?” Declan asked, snapping his fingers in Raiden’s face.
“Sorry. Just catching my breath.”
Declan patted him on the back, and the two started walking to the front of the business. There were a few offices set up and a big conference room, all professional-looking with glass walls and a few potted plants. Declan gestured into his office, a big room with a black leather couch and a squat oak desk and with maps pinned all over the wall.
“Take a seat,” Declan said, gesturing to the couch. “Just try not to get it too sweaty.”
Raiden sat on the edge of the cushion and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “If you’re going to fire me for the dinner party, why’d you make me work out first?”
“I’m not going to fire you,” Declan grunted as he sat at his desk. “You’re good at this, when you can keep your temper under control. And you’re my nephew’s best friend. You know that means something to me, Raiden.”
“I know,” Raiden said with a nod. Gray had started working for Declan first, but he fell in love with his client, and the two of them ran away together. They were off on a romantic adventure and didn’t seem like they’d be back anytime soon. “And thanks for giving me and Horatio the work.”
Declan grunted. “It’s like I told Gray. The three of you were on a fast track to getting yourselves in some serious trouble. You might convince yourself that you’re stealing from the bad people, but it doesn’t do the world any good if Robin Hood just ends up in jail.”
Raiden nodded. He’d heard the lectures from Declan a few times already, and anyway, since Gray had taken off, he and Horatio had been a couple of loose cannons. They weren’t getting shit done, and the money with Kaiser Security was solid and steady. “I hear you, Declan. I hear you. Any idea if you’ll have more work from me?”
“As a matter of fact, I got a gig that might be perfect. I was thinking about it after the dinner party. Not every job requires the same kind of guard, you know?” He tugged open the desk drawer, then rummaged around inside for a second before pulling out an envelope and tossing it to Raiden. “What do you think of Manhattan?”
“Manhattan?” Raiden opened the envelope and pulled out a contract for a security gig. “Who needs protecting in Manhattan?” His mind lit up with ideas. Gray had watched over a celebrity, and that seemed pretty cool, but everyone from the Yakuza to the NBA had offices in Manhattan. And Declan was such a badass. Gray felt kind of flattered that the older man needed him for a special gig.
“Protecting might be a strong word,” Declan said with a chuckle.
Raiden scanned the document, catching clauses about nightclubs, alcohol consumption, and keeping a proper distance from a dance floor. “Wait, what the hell is this?”
“You know how some people just can’t hold their liquor? Well, Lawrence here needs someone to follow him around to all the gay clubs and make sure he doesn’t pass out in the wrong alley, so to speak.”
Raiden blinked. His heart had finally stopped racing from the workout, and his brain slowly processed what Declan was saying. “You want me to babysit some spoiled kid?”
Declan started to laugh, a chuckle rumbling out of his chest. Raiden sat there for a solid minute, frowning while the older man chuckled at him with tears in his eyes. When he finally finished, he slapped the desk, then sighed happily, as though he’d just told himself a really good joke. “What do you say? You up for it? We’ve got a small apartment you can use, and you’ll have your days to yourself. It’s not going to be exciting. Don’t think you’ll have any high speed car chases or gunfights. But if you can keep your cool and manage to go six months without losing your temper, I’ll put someone else on the case and bring you back into the big boy jobs.”
Raiden grunted. He felt like he was being punished, which he kind of was. And easy as it was for Declan to say, for Raiden, keeping his cool and not losing his temper was a lot more challenging.
He hadn’t always been a fighter, not exactly. It began when he was fourteen, and his mother started dating a new man who liked to push Raiden around, which didn’t seem to bother her. Raiden surprised even himself, though, when he hit a major growth spurt at fifteen and started fighting back, transforming in one summer from the scraggly and awkward gay kid into a pissed-off block of muscles. After that, it was like everywhere he went, someone wanted a piece of him, from the assholes at school who had a problem with him being gay to the bully at his first job, just begging for a fight after their shifts at the warehouse ended.
So Raiden had turned into a fighter, and he was damn good at it, too. By the time he was in his mid-twenties, he had trouble holding down a steady job, and on his bad nights, he’d go wandering the bars, just looking for a good fight to make him feel alive again. Until Gray had come around, in fact, that was about the only life Raiden knew.
Figured that Gray’s uncle would be the one to make him go straight.
“All right,” he answered Declan, then slid the contract back into the envelope. “I guess I’m your man.”
