1. Shifts

            This was perhaps the worst time of year to visit my dad. It was the middle of summer, and no matter where you lived, it was freaking hot as hell. You went outside and immediately you hit a wall of humidity. Your day instantly turns to crap.

            I braved the weather to visit my dad, today was his birthday after all. Sometimes I hated that his birthday was in August, but I couldn’t control it. The weather here in New Jersey was disgusting.

            Even though I’d been visiting Dad for four years now, every time I came felt as though it was the first time I was visiting him since the burial. I could never stop myself from crying in front of the gravestone, missing him so much that I wouldn’t leave the cemetery for hours.

            It nearly broke me when I’d learned my dad was dead. He hadn’t died of natural causes; he had been pretty spry for his age. He’d been murdered in his apartment. How was I the first to know this? My sister was the one who came to the murder scene. She’d sounded so strong when telling me the news; I knew she’d been breaking down on the inside.

            “Happy birthday, Dad,” I whispered to the headstone before me. I sniffled, already feeling the sweat pool on my skin. “I wish I was visiting in better weather, but I didn’t want to stay in on your birthday, though I’m sure you would have understood if I had. I-I miss you, so much. I hope you and Mom are enjoying yourselves. Tell her I said ‘hi’, will you? I hope Spencer comes today if she hasn’t already.”

            I stole a glance at my mother’s grave marker lying right next to Dad’s. They’d plotted it out this way years ago, when Spencer and I were little. I knew none of us expected them to be in them so soon.

            With a trembling figure, I turned my back on my parents’ graves and headed for the idle car on the path in the cemetery. I appreciated him doing this for me. He didn’t have to, but he knew how I was after I visited the cemetery. He knew how I was never myself again until a few days after the visit. He knew me so well it was almost scary.

            I slipped into the passenger seat, getting blasted with refreshing air once I slammed the door shut. I took in a deep breath, my hands clutching my knees. Even as the years went by, this didn’t get any easier.

            A cool hand reached across to grab one of mine. I picked my green eyes up to look at Dean, who was smiling timidly at me. I couldn’t help but try and reproduce the smile.

            “That was short,” he noted.

            “I didn’t have much to say.” I shrugged. “He’s not much of a conversation starter.”

            “I know it’s not easy for you.”

            “It will never get easy.” I held back tears. “I just wish the police hadn’t given up on his case.” For at least two years, the police tried to solve my dad’s murder. They came up empty, which really angered me. They’d let the case go, but I hadn’t. I never could, knowing that Dad’s murderer was out there, somewhere.

            I knew Dad had enemies, but there was a long list of unknown names I knew I could never track down. His enemies were sporadically placed around the United States and in other countries. That’s what happened when you’re in a shady business, getting your hands dirty with other people like that.   

            “Maybe they’ll get lucky,” Dean said, trying to be hopeful. “Maybe they’ll reopen it.”

            “Yeah, when I’m, like, seventy or something.” I blew out an irritated breath.

            “You have to have a little faith, Raine. You know, I could always take it on myself.”

            “No,” I said immediately. “I would never ask that of you, Dean. You’ve done enough for me since Dad died. I could never ask you to investigate his murder.”

            “I could ask my boss and get information. He’d definitely want to help; your dad was a good friend of his.”

            “No.”

            “You want your dad’s murder solved and his killer found. Why won’t you let me help?”

            “I don’t want you to risk anything more for me than you already are.”

            Dean’s vivid blue eyes narrowed. “What if I wanted to?”

            “It doesn’t matter. Don’t try to be something you’re not.”

            Dean sighed, starting the car. “Sometimes I wonder why I’m with you.” He said this in a little playful manner.

            “That’s easy.” I leaned across to peck him on the cheek. “You fell in love with me while on the job.”

            Once Dean got the car heading back to our suburban home, I wiped the tears off my face and let my mind wander. I smiled to myself, recalling how I’d first met Dean.

~*~

            I wasn’t expecting company, so it was really surprising to hear someone banging on my door. Groggily, I went to it. I really didn’t want anyone bothering me right now, I was still in mourning. Mourning meant being alone. Spencer knew that, so it couldn’t be her. Then who was disturbing my peace?

            I opened the door to find a stranger on the other side of it. I noticed his newly polished black Nissan in my driveway, right behind my older car. My brows came over my eyes when looking him over. He had a naturally rugged appearance, which didn’t mean he was unappealing. His blue eyes were solid, his dark blond hair cut short and very curly. To complete his rugged appearance was a bit of facial hair growing out.

            “Can I help you?” I asked rather sharply.

            “You’re Raine Whitmore?”

            “Who wants to know?”

            “I do.”

            I blew out a breath. “Yes, I’m Raine. What do you want?”

            “Nothing.”

            “Then why are you here wasting my time?”

            “I’m moving in with you.”

            “Hold on there,” I said. “I don’t even know you. You think just because you look badass that means you can go declaring you’re moving into someone’s house?”

            “No, I was assigned to you.”

            “Assigned? What the hell does that mean?” I was about ready to shut the door in this guy’s face. What if he was a serial killer? What if he was a rapist? What if he was both? Was this going to be my last day on Earth?

            “I’m truly sorry that your father is dead.” His sincerity rang true in his voice.

            “Who the hell are you?”

            “Your bodyguard.”

            I started bursting into laughter. “Yeah, okay.”

            “I would think you’d be taking this more seriously, Ms. Whitmore.”

            “Why should I?”

            “I know you’re still grieving over your father, but it’s keeping you from a bigger picture. Your life could be in danger in this very moment. You know what your father did for a living, or at least you know what he got himself into. You know he had some enemies. Should it really surprise you that maybe your father’s murderer may be coming for you next?”

            “Why would they want to be after me? I have no part with the business.”

            “It’s a strong hunch. We’re not taking any risks in ruling it out.”

            I swallowed, realizing this guy was telling the truth. I knew my dad had been in some shady work, that he’d had connections with formidable people.

            “How do I know you aren’t the murderer?” I raised an eyebrow at him.

            “I would have killed you already.” He smirked. “So, are you going to let me in?”

            I bit my lip, debating. This guy was a total stranger to me. But he knew something about my dad, so he couldn’t be lying to me. If my life was in danger and he really was my assigned bodyguard, I was left with no choice.

            Feeling defeated by logic, I stepped aside, letting my “bodyguard” in. God only knew what this was going to start for me.

~*~

            “In all honesty, I thought I’d end up killing you one day with the way you acted towards me in the beginning,” Dean admitted.

“Hey, if you hadn’t been on duty, I wouldn’t have had the knife on me.” I shrugged.

“You still do now, don’t you?”

“I’ve never left the house without it.” I patted a pocket that held my trusty pocketknife. Not long after I’d let Dean into my house, I’d been extremely wary of him. Just because logic had gotten the better of me didn’t mean I had been entirely onboard with him hanging around. He was the reason I kept the small gadget on me at all times. For a while, I’d convinced myself he was lying, that he was the killer.

I was pretty sure that he could have had plenty of chances to kill me by now.

 Dean made a face. “I was sure I was going to snap when you threatened to cut me.”

            “But you didn’t,” I sang. “Instead, here we are, going strong at three years.”

            Three years. How could it be so long already? It felt like only yesterday Dean came knocking on my front door, telling me that he was sent to protect me. It seemed like only yesterday that I’d reluctantly let him stay only because a part of me believed him, a small part, I might add.

            As Dean pulled out of the cemetery and took the route back to our house, my mind wondered at how our relationship had progressed from tense strangers to something much more beautiful and meaningful. We hadn’t meant for it to happen, it just did. Our relationship was one of the many unexplainable things in life.

            The heat was no better when we got back to our place. Technically the house is mine; Dean’s been with me for four years in it. Yes, it’d only taken a year for something to blossom. That’s what happened when you were stuck with someone who was assigned to watch over you and make sure nobody tried to kill you. It didn’t make sense to have tension in the house if the arrangement was going to stay a while.

            Dean and I cooled off once we got into the house. I started making dinner early; Dean had to head to work soon. On top of the job he’d already been doing by watching me, he took up another one. Even though he hardly needed the money, he did it to air himself out and spend some time away from me. I couldn’t say the same for myself, as trying to find a job was proving difficult for me. Dean would bring me back applications from various places all looking to hire, but they were all filled out for nothing in the end. I once got an interview to be a receptionist for a hospital, but that was the closest I ever got to a job.

            “Why not advertise yourself?” Dean suggested as I bustled around the kitchen.

            “What am I good for?” I asked.

            “You can do little things, like cut lawns or walk dogs. Or you could babysit.”

            “I’m lucky I do my own yard, I’m not much of a dog walker, and I have no experience with children.”

            Dean sighed. “You want a job, don’t you? Put yourself out there. You never know, a lot of people may be too lazy to cut their grass. A lot of people may not have time to walk their dogs, and I’m sure adults with kids have a hard time trying to find a babysitter that doesn’t charge much. And you don’t even have to do those things. Find something small, something easy, and something part-time. All I’m saying, Raine, is if you don’t put yourself out there, I’ll do it for you. This I know won’t cross any boundaries.”

            I bit the inside of my cheek. “I’ll consider it.”

            Conversation fell silent after that. Dinner was sort of fast, being that Dean had to leave really soon. Even though I missed him in bed with me at night, I didn’t mind him doing the nightshift. He seemed to enjoy it, and that’s what mattered, right?

            Once Dean was out to start his night shift, I went right to work on the dishes. We did have a dishwasher; I was just too lazy to use it. Dean mostly used it, and the washer itself was barely run. Sometimes I wished I could get rid of it, but I knew somehow that one day I’d thank myself for not throwing it away.

            Sunset was very late, so my telling of time was off by a lot. This really bothered me, especially when he came around. I knew that he showed up not long after Dean left for his shift, but sometimes he was later than normal. He tried to sneak in during the day a few times. We decided after a close call that he’d back off until evening to come in.

            When the door opened and closed, I knew he’d arrived.

            I wasn’t cheating on Dean with him, if that’s what you thought. He wasn’t exactly a good friend of mine; I barely knew the guy then and still barely knew him now. He’d shown up how Dean had; only he’d looked more sophisticated and actually asked to stay instead of declaring he move into the house. I was the only one who knew about his stay at the house, Dean had no idea. The thought had never crossed my mind in the beginning, telling Dean, and he just stuck around long enough to where telling Dean seemed like a terrible idea. We’d silently made an agreement that my boyfriend was to be kept in the dark about this.

            That’s why the spare room was always closed off, because that’s where he slept every night. He was always gone just before Dean came back, which worked out.

            The power went out, plunging me and my guest into darkness. I rolled my eyes.

            “It’s not funny. Bring my power back, James,” I demanded gently. “You’ve done this before, it’s an old trick. You know I hate it.”

            “You’re no fun anymore,” drawled the smooth, accented voice. The lights went on again, almost blinding me. I turned around to face my guest. I blinked my eyes to refocus as I saw him.

            He wasn’t dressed nicely today, but rather in casual wear. He didn’t really dress fancy much. The last time I could recall he’d done so was when he’d showed up on my doorstep two years ago.

            “I’m letting you stay here because you have no place to go, not so you can pull stuff like this on me.”

            “Oh, come on, Raine. Admit it; this is the best time of day for you. You get to spend some time with me!”

            “Sometimes it is,” I retorted. “You’ve been busy a lot in your room lately. Making some deals, doing some dirty work like always?”

            “You know I don’t tell you my business.” He leaned against the door. “My business is my own.”

            “One of these days I’ll find out.”

            He chuckled. “The only way to do that is if you ended up working for me.”

            This again? He’s been pressing this on me a lot lately. “Ha, no. I’m not following my dad’s path; it made him end up with a bullet in his brain.”

            “I’m in the same sort of business, and yet, here I am.” He gestured to himself. “If you play the game right, you’ll be successful. Your father obviously made a fatal move.”

            “Can we not talk about it anymore?” I spat hotly.

            “Sorry. Sometimes I relish in people’s mistakes.”

            “I gathered that.” I folded my arms across my chest. “Remind me again why I’m keeping you here?”

            “I’m not causing you any trouble.”

            “You don’t pay rent.”

            “If you don’t let him pay, I don’t.”

            “I’ve never had to let him; he’s done a lot for me. He helps pay the bills since I can’t. When are you going be out for good?” My tone was half teasing, half serious.

            “In a few months’ time, actually. I’ve been planning my departure for some time now.” Something about James’ grin unsettled me. “I know you’ll miss me when I’m gone, angel.”

            “What did we say about nicknames, James?” I scolded him. I always called him that when I was a bit pissed with him.

            “It’s not like he’s around to hear me say them,” he said haughtily. “You can’t stop me from saying them, darling. Well, I better be off. I’ll be in my room. If you want to have an interesting night, just knock.” With that, my guest sauntered off.

            I shook my head as I watched him disappear into the spare room. Some part of me had told me to not house him, that he was different from Dean. But he’d promised he wouldn’t be a burden. Truthfully, he wasn’t. He was perhaps the best guest I’d ever had. He was gone during the day anyway, so sometimes I forgot about him until he showed up at night. Some nights I forgot his presence when he didn’t talk to me.

            I’d thought he’d put a fracture in my relationship with Dean in the beginning, but he didn’t. Still, he did drop hints that he claimed he knew things about Dean that Dean hadn’t told me. I had no idea what prompted him to say something like that. I didn’t believe him, and I tried to get the information out of him anyway—because who wouldn’t be curious?—but Jim always made a game out of it. I always quit those games when he requested something meaningful, like for me to kiss him or do something relationship related that would make me feel awful afterwards.

            He always liked to play games.

**Whelp, on the right is Dean :) Who's excited to see where this goes??**