Chapter 1:
Family Values
Xavier Delgado, bodyguard to the elite,
now unemployed, drove cautiously down the street, looking carefully at each
cookie-cutter house he passed. Finally finding the number he wanted, he swung
sharply into the driveway and turned off the radio blaring away with some music
he could recognize as only one of those "boy-toy" bands his niece was
always swooning over. He locked the SUV’s door, mindful of the neighborhood. He
hated this area, full of drifters, gangs, and any other low-life scum looking
for an easy target. Xavier’s mouth twisted into a tight smile as he visualized
the possibility of meeting up with one of them.
He walked slowly up the sidewalk, noticing
the crumbling concrete and weeds that proliferated around the small house.
Damn! Where the hell was all the money he was giving his sister going to,
anyway? An excited yell and slam of a door opening dragged Xavier’s attention
away from the weeds and he looked up to see his niece barreling toward him at top
speed. He caught her easily and swung her up high over his head to screeches of
delight. Ugh. She was dirty, sticky with God–knows-what and Xavier put her down
quickly.
"Lizzy!"
Xavier heard his sister’s hoarse voice
yelling at her 10-year-old daughter and he straightened up to see Aggie leaning
against the side of the doorframe, cigarette in one hand, the other hand
resting on her seven-month pregnant belly.
"Are those for you, or the
baby?" he sneered as he brushed by her yanking the burning cigarette from
her and crushing it underfoot before he went inside.
"Ha. Ha." mocked his sister,
trailing after Xavier and following him into her dilapidated kitchen, all the
while searching in vain to locate a stray cigarette. She watched as he threw a
piece of paper onto the kitchen table on his way over to the refrigerator to
search for a beer.
"Hey!" she said, impressed by
the size of the check. "What did you do? Knock over a bank?"
"I’m a bodyguard, remember? I get
paid well." Xavier yanked open the handle, crouched down, and reached far
into the back of the refrigerator. Finding what he wanted he pulled out a cold
one and twisted off the cap. He sighed with relief after taking a long gulp,
then swore, "Damn Florida heat!"
Aggie glanced at the check again then gave
her brother a knowing look. "No bodyguard gets paid this well. You must
have scared the shit outta someone real good."
"I get paid to protect."
"I’ll bet," she said dryly.
Xavier sighed impatiently. "Just save
me 25 out of it," he said, nodding to the check. "You can have the
rest. And for Christ’s sake, take some of it and clean up your yard!"
Aggie smiled as she walked over to her
purse on the counter and shoved the check into it. "Thanks," she
acknowledged bluntly. She turned and watched him take a swig from the bottle
then dragged a chair out from the kitchen table and settled into it. Propping
her feet up on another seat she relaxed and scanned the table, hoping a
cigarette was lying around. Finding none, she sighed and eyed her brother with
a contemplative stare.
"So, when will you be leaving?"
Xavier gave her a sour smile, recognizing
her candid wish to be rid of him as soon as possible. He wiped his mouth, then
held the amber bottle up to eye level, swirling the contents of the remaining
beer. "Don’t know. Maybe a week, two at most. Soon as I find another job,
I’ll be leaving."
Aggie nodded, then winced as she felt the
baby kick down low. "Ouch." Xavier walked over to the trashcan,
opened the lid and threw the empty bottle away.
"So, do you know who the father
is?" His tone of voice left no question as to his distaste.
"Yeah, and I’m not telling you. I’m
not letting you beat the crap outta him like you did to the other one."
"Aggie, believe it or not, this time
I really don’t care."
She eyed him suspiciously, but knew better
than to argue. The blare of the TV from the next room came to life, filling the
house with music. "What the hell is all that racket?" Xavier snarled.
It sounded just like the music he had heard when driving up to the house and he
went to go investigate. Aggie followed her brother into the other room.
"Ever hear of MTV?" she asked
sarcastically.
Xavier shot her a dark look in reply then
watched his niece dance rythmically to the song on
the TV. He turned to look at his sister with disbelief. "You let her watch
this shit?"
Aggie shrugged for an answer and went over
slowly to lower herself into a chair. Lizzy danced over to her uncle, a smile
beaming from her face as she grabbed his massive hand with both of her own. She
tugged hard, trying to drag him over to the couch. "Uncle X! Uncle X! I
like them! Sit down with me and watch them, please?" Xavier cringed at the
nickname and swore under his breath.
"Let me get another beer first,
ok?"
He returned with the drink and flopped
down onto the couch. "Okay. So exactly what am I looking at?"
"My favorite group, the Backstreet
Boys!" She twirled a little pirouette in front of the TV set. "Aren’t
they great?"
Xavier gave her a noncommittal grunt and
slowly took a sip of his beer. The music had died down and the announcer began
to talk about them. Apparently, a new tour was starting, songs from their new
album would be covered, most shows were sold out,
blah, blah, blah. Xavier didn’t listen to the rest. He gazed upward at the
ceiling, lost in thought and his sister looked at him carefully, a frown
forming on her face.
"Xavier..." she began slowly.
"Shut up."
"Xavier, please don’t..."
She was cut off with a vicious glare, a
look that left no room for doubt in his meaning.
Aggie felt queasy, a horrible nausea
flooding her body and senses. Not sure whether it was from the baby or her
growing suspicions, she rose suddenly and hurried down to the bathroom hoping
to hell she made it in time.
Xavier never noticed her swift exit. He
began to watch the show intently, trying to absorb everything before him. One
by one each of the band members were shown, a short biographical story
describing his life and association with the group. Xavier leaned forward on
the couch, hands clasped, as if in prayer, under his chin. His dark eyes became
intense, his body tightly coiled as if ready to pounce on an unsuspecting prey.
One by one, Xavier began to engrave into his memory each singer’s history and
association with the band. As the last one of the group was being documented,
Xavier suddenly found himself being taken aback; his mind quickly shifted and
he instantly dismissed the others, knowing with full certainty that this was
the one. A curious jolt of excitement motivated him to painstakingly study the
Backstreet Boy. Intrigued, Xavier watched the young man being interviewed; by
far, he was the most charismatic. A connection had been made and Xavier held
his breath as he attempted to absorb every nuance of his face, manner, and
style.
A cold and clammy hand touching his
shoulder brought Xavier out of his reverie and he looked up to find a
distressed and pleading look on his sister’s pale face. He waved her off with
an impatient flick of his hand and turned back to the screen. The show had
ended and Lizzy was switching channels with the remote control at a 10-year-old
frenzied pace.
Xavier leaned back into the soft support
of the couch and, as a quiet calmness spread across his broad face, ignored his
sister’s growing anxiety. Lizzy had found a channel she liked, something called
VH-1, and was humming along to another tune. Xavier looked at her, a quirk of a
smile touching his lips. He knew now what he was going to do, what direction
his next assignment would take him, and most importantly of all, the thrill he
would get out of it. His fists clenched and unclenched with anticipation as he
looked at his niece lying on the floor, her little legs wiggling in time to the
music.
"Hey,
"How would you like to meet the
Backstreet Boys?"
***
