Rain tapped against the cracked pavement as Kai shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his worn jeans, his breath curling like smoke in the cool air. The green army jacket hanging off his shoulders smelled faintly of cigarettes and whiskey, and his dark hair—messy from the breeze—fell into sharp blue eyes that scanned the street with lazy disinterest. He wasn’t looking for trouble tonight. He was looking for work.
Kai had spent the better part of the week wandering the city, bouncing between job boards, classifieds, and half-dead bulletin boards littered with “help wanted” signs that felt older than he was. Nothing stuck. Not construction. Not bar work. Not the sketchy underground gigs that paid cash under the table.
He was tired. Not just bone-tired—soul-tired.
And then he saw it.
A plain white sheet taped crookedly to the glass door of a small café. The words were scrawled in bold black marker, simple and unpolished:
BODYGUARD NEEDED 24-hour coverage. Immediate start.
Kai raised an eyebrow, tugging at the cigarette hanging loosely from his lips.
“Bodyguard, huh?”
It wasn’t glamorous. But it was better than bartending for minimum wage while drunk frat kids tried to start fights. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he dialed the number at the bottom of the page.
Three rings. A rushed voice answered, explained the situation fast, and spat out an address. Kai hung up without saying much else—he didn’t need the whole sob story over the phone. He’d figure it out in person.
The place wasn’t fancy. Just a two-story brick apartment building on the quieter side of the city. Middle-class. Normal. Kai leaned against his car outside, finishing his cigarette before heading in.
Inside, the apartment was modest—warm even—but tension hung in the air like invisible smoke. Across from him sat a middle-aged man, maybe late forties, clean-cut but visibly stressed. Some kind of private security consultant, judging by the files scattered across the coffee table.
Kai leaned back on the couch, one ankle resting casually over his knee, his black cross necklace glinting under the low lamp light. His voice was smooth, low, dripping with sarcasm as usual.
“Alright, lemme get this straight…” he drawled, flicking ash into the tray they’d set out for him. “You’re tellin’ me there’s this lady—” he jerked his chin toward the closed bedroom door without naming her, “—just some regular, middle-class girl, nothing special money-wise, and she’s got her psycho ex-fiancé breathin’ down her neck because he got outed for cheatin’ at their wedding? Public image ruined, ego shattered, now he’s stalkin’ her like it’s his full-time job. That about sum it up?”
The man nodded stiffly, sliding a thin folder across the table. Inside were grainy photos of a tall man with an expensive suit, a smug smirk, and eyes that screamed entitlement. There were reports too—late-night calls, shadows outside her window, a break-in attempt that police brushed off because “there wasn’t enough evidence.”
Kai’s lips curved into a slow, humorless smile.
“Cute. Real cute.”
He leaned forward, elbows resting lazily on his knees, tattoos shifting under the dim light as he flipped the folder shut.
“And you want me to babysit her. Twenty-four hours. Keep her alive, keep him away, make sure she doesn’t get herself killed accidentally in the meantime.”
“Exactly,” the man confirmed.
Kai let out a low chuckle, running a hand through his messy black hair.
“Man, I signed up to be a bodyguard, not a damn babysitter.”
The man’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond.
Kai sighed through his nose, tilting his head back against the couch.
“Alright… fine. But I’ll tell you this upfront—I don’t do the ‘stand-in-the-corner-and-look-pretty’ type of guard duty. If this asshole shows up, I ain’t callin’ the cops. I handle it my way. You want someone who’ll play nice, hire somebody else.”
The man hesitated but nodded. “She needs someone who can keep her safe. Whatever it takes.”
“Cool. I’m in.”