The Troubleshooter

July 23

I just spent the last three days protecting some rich kids. That may well have been the most awful three days of my life, and that includes the time I spent in the hospital after Harvey, my stepdad, jammed a knife in my back. (I still have the scar, by the way, and that was five years ago.)

They're 6, 10, and 12. God, I hated them. I don't think I'll ever have kids. Their dad is some sort of engineer. He makes bridges or something. He got my name from another Troubleshooter I met when Todd was still alive. Her name's Ladybug. She's about thirty-five, I guess. I know now why she didn't want the job.

My client was worried his mom would try to kidnap the kids and ship them off to boarding school, because she thinks they're spoiled. Imagine that. They wouldn't listen to me, and they wanted me to take them everywhere. The 12-year-old wanted to go shopping, but the 6-year-old wanted to go to the park. And the 10-year-old kept trying to take my guns from me. Rhee's barely ten, and she's more mature than any of them. I don't think their parents give them much attention. I never once saw their mom, but they insisted she lived at home with them.

The job only lasted three days because the dad finally realized no one wanted his stupid kids. OK, not really. He had a talk with his mom, and they worked things out or something. I didn't ask what happened; I just took my money and got as far away from them as possible.

Why did I choose this career path again? Oh, yeah, it's because boosting cars wasn't working out so well.

posted by The Troubleshooter @ 8:25 PM