Risky Business

[Jay Carpenter]

Axel Miller

Axel was more than content to let Lawrence grope his forearm. He searched her eyes, green as grass, hair copper and smile broad as the ocean. All that romantic bullshit passed swiftly through his mind. What followed was less than honorable. “Axel,” he said, introducing himself. It was with grumbling reluctance that they moved toward business, and an amused smile glanced at the boy following Lawrence around like a sad puppy.

The few nods in Natalie’s story for the brave and honorable head of security ilicted little more than a tip of the shoulder. He continued to watch their surroundings, half-concerned of anyone that might be eavesdropping and half-watching the nearest exits for a swift getaway.

Eventually, he asked to see a map of the school itself. The location would work, being near enough to the highway for easy routes but far enough from town to avoid undue attention. “It could be it,” he agreed. “But what are you going to do? Knock on the front door and asked to be let inside?” he asked.

A grim line formed his lips thoughtful, arms folded, leaning back on the barstool. His jacket was open at the waist, holsters peeking from beneath the folds. He listened to Natalie’s story faithfully despite the shit grin that tugged his mouth once in a while. Meanwhile, he ached for a cigarette, and a frustrated growl rumbled his chest.

He pushed a frustrated hand through his hair and leaned near enough to glimpse the folder. He spoke quietly for Natalie, “you asked what I wanted,” he said. “I want out. A new life, a new name. My own money. My own fucking island if I can get it. I want to stop looking over my shoulder and fuck whoever I actually want to fuck once in a while,” just on good measure, his gaze flicked quite dishonorably toward Lawrence. “You have pull enough for that. That’s what I want in return for walking into that school and dragging Carp out by his collar,” he said, doubtful the princess of the Custody could actually pull that off.

Irreverent gaze, flat as iron, levelled the women (and the shit-faced intern), “Come on. You both know you can’t do this without me. I’m your best hope unless you want to bet on that spineless preacher,” he said.

A deep breath as he checked the time, “and we have to do it before she takes the stage. I want to be on a private jet bound for anywhere else by sundown.”