In His Service

control: Virginia's POV

I watched the scenery go by from the windows of the helicopter as we skimmed over the landscape. The tiny lights in the distance seemed so surreal to me. Something so day to day, so mundane, and it just keeps on going.

Those tiny lights, completely unaware that, a luxury sex club run by the most notorious entrepreneur in the southwest, was being shot up on a Friday night. So surreal.

And the most surreal part? 

The fact that I may have recognized the shooter. But that was absurd. It couldn't have been... he wasn't even in the country. At least, not as a civilian...

But there was no way I was about to mention any of my farfetched ideas to Luc and my other bosses. My brain was just playing tricks on me because of the adrenaline, and once it quit pumping, my mind would stop making up ridiculous scenarios. 

Luc's hand was still on my thigh, where it had been since we sat down. When I looked at him, his eyes were already trained on me with a haunted, raw emotion blazing in them like emerald coals.

"Virginia," he began, his voice choked with emotion. His eyes bounced between mine, words unsaid but swirling just behind the mossy depths of his gaze. 

"It's okay, Luc," I whispered, my trembling fingers finding his in the dark. 

"NO." His voice was firm and harsh as he spat the word, drawing me from my thoughts. "No, it most certainly is not okay. I promise I will make that fucker pay." 

His voice dripped with venom and his eyes darkened to pitch as he spoke of the man who had let loose a string of bullets in the middle of the crowded club. 

Security had just missed him as he fled through an emergency exit in the chaos that followed the shooting. I had overheard enough of Luc's phone calls afterwards to know that they had lots of video footage, but only partial shots of his face. 

So far, though, no one unusual was in the guest book, and all external security cameras were clear. They had no leads on who he was or how he got in, armed.

Well, I might have known who he was. And as for how he got in? No doubt he could make it look like child's play. I chewed my lip as the helicopter circled my building and the landing pad came into view. Maybe I should tell Luc about him, just in case it helped... 

"Virginia?" Luc's voice was softer and his hand squeezed my thigh as he leaned in and looked right in my eyes. He had noticed the slightest change in my demeanor and picked up on my trepidation. It was oddly comforting. His hands found my face in the dark helicopter cap and he searched my eyes as he held my close to him. 

"Virginia," he repeated. "Are you okay?" 

I nodded minutely, chewing my lip again. 

"I'm fine, I promise, it's just that... that guy... the shooter..." I trailed off, not sure how to blurt out that I might know him. I didn't know what his motive would be, anyway, so it really wasn't even a lead. 

"What about him?" Luc demanded, his voice back to icy business. 

"It's just that... I think..." 

"WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING!?"

Just then the helicopter door was wrenched open by a very pissed off looking Derek, flanked by very pissed off looking Austin and Jake. They hadn't even waited until the aircraft was fully landed before rushing the door and practically yanking me out of the harness. 

I winced at Derek's deranged tone, even though it wasn't directed at me. 

His cold eyes were trained on Luc, still sitting in the helicopter seat, and Austin and Jake behind him looked ready to fight. All three of them had hands on me, Derek shoving me behind himself as Jake draped a massive zippered hoodie around my shoulders and Austin rubbed soothing circles on my back. 

"What's wrong, brother?" Luc asked, his words were blaze' but his eyes burned with barely contained rage. "Jealous that someone else had a little action with the new hire?"

As I rolled my eyes in a full circle at the stress-induced show of manhood, Derek, Jake, and Austin took a collective step forward at that, which was my cue to cut between them and be the voice of reason. Or just common sense. No one would benefit from a round of fisticuffs on the rooftop. 

"Stop right there, you three." I actually held up my hands like a crossing guard, and was a little surprised when all three men halted. "For a number of different reasons, we are not having this conversation on the roof."