The Tyrant's Trophy

(Another one of Belicia's 'Love in the Darkness' Characters is here. His name is Chad and I hope you all love him because I became obsessed with him and am immensely grateful to Belicia for giving him to me. Enjoy :)

Chad

I don’t consider myself a romantic kind of guy in any way. I don’t have any extravagant fantasies or desires for any sort of bombshells like the rest of my coworkers. Truth be told: I consider myself a simple kind of man. Not romantic but I do desire ‘the one’ someday. I would like to find a good woman and settle down with her. Maybe even have a mini-me running around somewhere.

However, at this point, I don’t think that’s ever going to happen. I tried with Amber - truly, I did - but that woman was high-maintenance! Not to mention, she was really immature and wanted the world handed to her on a silver platter.

It was always about her.

I HAD to bend backward for her.

Praise God I got out of that relationship quickly because compared to her, the navy was relaxing.

After that traumatic experience, I think it’s best if I throw in the towel on love. Not to mention, a certain boss also made dating hard to come by.

Said boss ordered me to report to his office immediately today. He had another job for me to attend to - a top priority. I figured it had to do with Daphnie again. It didn’t matter if they were currently separated; tabs were still kept on her and precautions were still taken to insure her safety. Also why Adam has been more raged-filled than usual.

Last week, the man whaled on the staff during the hand-to-hand combat exercise. Some of them had to be hospitalized.

I blamed the redhead. My boss hates journalists and she was one of them that gave him a run for his money years back.

“Sir.” I respectfully greeted him as I entered. Adam didn’t offer me a seat and I didn’t take one; I just stood at attention. Years in the Navy would do that to you.

As typical, he got to the point. “I have a new job for you; you’ll be relocated.”

I raised a brow at that. He handed me a beige file with a woman’s photo clipped to the corner. She was of mixed ethnicity: petite and pretty, with wide maple-colored eyes. She wore a soft smile - the kind that said ‘happy’ but her eyes were solemn. The kind of solemn we veterans only know.

“Her name is Maybell Sweetheart and she’s now in our protective services. I will be investigating her case personally. As usual, you will be aiding me in this. However, your main responsibility will be being her shadow.

He opened his drawer and handed me some keys along with the address to my new location. “You’re moving in next door to where she’s staying. You are to accompany her at all times, understand?”

“Yes, sir, but,” I kept my irritation out of my voice. “Why is she a top priority? Surely, this can be handled easily by other staff.” It seems like a waste of time.

Adam clicked his tongue at me. If possible, he looked more ticked. “It’s a business transaction. That journalist has detailed information about my time in the Marines; she also has enough information about my past to piece together a background on me. She’s very eager to publish it if I don’t help this woman, her friend.”

“Can’t you just threaten to destroy her career? You have the resources.” That’s how he shook many others.

Adam let out an aggravated sigh. “I did, but she has enough information on me that nobody in their right mind would turn her down. Plus, turns out, she’s a direct bloodline to the Boyds.”

I was impressed. I never thought someone would be able to blackmail the mighty Adam Carter.

“Why is she willing to go to such measures to get your help?”

“Her friend’s husband is a dangerous man. He’s using his reputation as an award-winning surgeon to get away with beating his wife. It’s to the point where her life is in danger.”

“Wow.”

“Exactly. We need to find evidence and expose him for who he truly is. Here,” Adam handed me another file that was rather thick. It had a picture of a middle-aged man in a doctor’s coat attached to the corner. The smile on his face was arrogant; the word modesty clearly wasn’t in his vocabulary.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“The tip of the iceberg. I’ll start looking into what’s underneath the surface.”

“Will that be all, sir?”

“For now. Make sure you introduce yourself to Mrs. Sweetheart once you’re settled. She’s expecting you.”

“Yes, sir.”

The man knows how to work people to the bone. While we talked, he had my stuff transferred to my new ‘home.’ “Invasive as ever sir,” I mumbled, standing outside the door of the condo I’ll be staying in.

“Isn’t this a bit much?” I turned towards the couple getting off the elevator. “She’s going to feel flushed with all this.” It was the journalist. She was with her boyfriend and both carried shopping bags.

Her boyfriend dismissed her. “It’s not much.” Yet the man struggled with the bags. “If she’s staying with us, she needs these.”

“Yes, but you overdid it with all the dresses. She’s going to think we’re making her into our doll or something.” She paused once she saw me. “Chad.”

I briefly wondered if the lady was secretly related to my boss. Their piercing glares were equally intimidating. “Iogair.”

She smirked. “I’m satisfied now. Adam sent the best - good.” Her glare didn’t fade though. “Help us with these bags.” Her man nudged her with his elbow but she didn’t acknowledge it. She must still harbor disdain for me from back then. Oh, the irony. I bet she’s going to make this experience horrible for me.

I took the bags from her. “You came rather quickly.” She unlocked the door.

“Didn’t have much of a choice.” Now, it looks like I won’t have much time to settle in before I meet my client.

“She’s not too well right now.” The redhead explained. The couple’s condo was nice; decorative but simple. Strangely, it clashed but yet worked well. For example, they had a luxurious off-white couch that resembled a curved cloud. On it were plain teal pillows - the ancient kind found in thrift stores. An odd mix, these people.

“Maybell ~ we got you some gifts!” The man sounded more like a dotting father obsessed with his little girl. How is his future wife not jealous of that?

I followed the couple to the guest room and Iogair stopped her fiancee from entering the room first. “She not well,” She reminded him. “And scared and could be showering so don’t go barging in there!”

The man pouted.

I thought Basil Beau was some tough man. I heard he was the serious type and strictly business minded but that’s false information. It’s none of my business. My priority is Mrs. Sweetheart, who was being stubborn at the moment.

Ms. Iogair sighed at the lady’s reluctance but she had plenty of patience as she went in. “Maybell, we’re back from the stores. We got you some necessities.” Mrs. Sweetheart's voice was too low to hear. “I told you, I’ll take care of it, and I did.” There was incoherent mumbling. “Trust me, this guy is the best. There’s no chance your husband will get past him. Yes, you have to meet him, but not now. Take your time and I’ll bring in your things.”

She walked out, a sad look on her face. “Any progress?” Basil Beau asked. We stood there, still holding the bags.

“She’s so terrified.” The journalist bit her bottom lip. “I just need to be patient.” In three trips, she brought the bags to her and helped her sort them.

I didn’t really know what to do at that point. Sure, there were cases like this where the battered spouse needed time to open up. Trust is a key factor in this kind of thing. It’s important as well not to push for that breakthrough. These are tips I picked during my time in college - took a course in psychology.

Also, where I met Amber. I shivered; she's my one regret about attending that school. Shaking the cringe away, I took my leave. Besides, I had to unpack the boxes.