Frog and Quinn: Prologue (Patreon)

“This wasn’t your fault.” My cousin’s words feel faraway like sound drifting with the wind. We aren’t even outside. I’ve retreated to the stairwell in the hospital. It’s as sterile smelling as the Philly General hallways. The visitors’ room has slightly better aroma of coffee and plug-in air fresheners, but I can’t bring myself to go there right this second.

Not with most of the security team waiting there while my client and her mom are unconscious in the ICU. I thought the stairwell would be a good place to cry—but I should’ve known Akara would find me. My cousin has a sixth sense about him.

His mom, my Auntie Mint, used to say that he has many innate qualities that make him one of the best in private security. Observation being a trait I’m sure he acquired as he was leaving the womb. So minutes ago, he happened to observe me slipping away from the group of bodyguards and into this stairwell.

His gaze falls heavier on me. A full thunderstorm of concern, and his black hair curls behind his ears and stops short of the base of his neck. Strands swoop across his forehead in a disheveled manner fit for the chaos of tonight. It’s a rare moment where I feel the whole ten years that separate us. With our birthdays next month, I’m almost nineteen. He’s almost twenty-nine.

I understand he feels responsible for my well-being in Philly, especially since I don’t have any other family here in the city. But sickness churns through my stomach knowing I might be occupying a fraction of his energy and time right now. He’s the head of Kitsuwon Securities. This has been one of the most massive security fuck ups in probably the history of his fledgling firm.

It doesn’t help that his very own cousin was in the center of the storm. It epically does not help that he vouched for me and cashed in the nepotism card to get me a job as a bodyguard to Luna Hale.

Even thinking her name crashes a stronger wave of nausea into me. My throat swells.

“How can you say this wasn’t my fault?” I ask Akara. “Luna is my client. I’m responsible for her safety and look where she is.”

He opens his mouth to reply.

“I quit,” I say before he can speak. A pressure compounds on my chest because quitting is the very last thing I want. This job—it’s been everything to me. It has given me purpose when I felt like I had none. Brought me closer to my cousin. Built me a family. Quitting feels a lot like walking away from all the good in my life along with the stability of a career. But I also don’t know how to shed the guilt without shedding my shame—and the only way I know how to do that is to run away. I’m good at running at least.

Akara’s face fractures. “Frog, please.” My nickname sounds desperate in his voice. “You’re a good bodyguard, and if you give up now, you’re not giving yourself time to believe that.” He bends down to be closer to my height while I’m sitting on the staircase. “There were four other bodyguards twice your size with you. Plus, Monroe who’s been doing this for over a decade. Not one of them has told me they’re giving up this career. You want to know why?”

I run a fist against my leaking eyes. “Because they’re assholes?”

He shakes his head. “Because they know they couldn’t change the outcome of tonight. Traffic. It was traffic. Luna and Lily’s car got separated from your security vehicle. There wasn’t anything you could have done differently.”

His phone buzzes in his hand, and he glances at it with furrowed brows.

“Take it,” I tell him.

He hesitates, seeing that I’m still torn up. But I don’t think a single conversation will repair the splintered parts of me tonight. He fists his cell, his nose flaring in emotion. “Just sleep on it at least. You don’t need to pack your bags right now. You’ve been through a lot tonight, too.”

“I’m fine,” I tell him, my voice stilted. I want to be fine, and I really don’t need Akara thinking that my emotions are one tug away from spilling out on the floor. Burdening him has been my biggest fear. He’s already done so much for me, and I’m so used to fucking my life up. The last thing I want is to fuck his up too.

He still stares at me, unconvinced. But as soon as his cellphone stops buzzing, the vibrations start up again. It must be an important call. Confliction crosses his brown eyes, and I say his nickname, “Nine, it’s okay. Take the call.”

He winces as he puts it to his ear. “Hey,” he says to whoever’s on the other end. He breathes out a knotted sound before he gives me a nod goodbye. I watch him push open the heavy steel doors, and they let out a loud echoey thunk behind him.

I hug my knees to my chest. The silence isn’t so bad—but I keep hearing the sirens. Ambulances and police cars. The ringing seems to be coming from my head. I’d been one of the bodyguards who saw Luna’s mom beaten on the ground earlier tonight. I was there when Luna’s dad started screaming in agony for her to wake up. I’ve never loved someone like that. Like his soul was half hers, and it was dying with her.

She’s alive, I remind myself. She’s alive. It’s barely a spoonful of comfort. They placed Luna’s mom in a medically-induced coma because of her pain.

Luna…Luna’s a different story.

The door to the stairwell screeches open, and I suck down more and more emotion. Don’t cry. Don’t fucking cry. I’m doing a decent job at restraining waterworks when I see it’s Quinn.

Twenty-three-years-old, an ex-professional boxer with the muscles to prove it, and one of the youngest guys on the security team. We circle each other more times than I can count. Mostly because we live in the same apartment that’s paid for by security. But I don’t think we’d be each other’s first choices to “comfort” the other. Not when we bicker like we’re in middle school and constantly stealing each other’s erasers.

He’s carrying two paper cups, and he holds out one. “Coffee tastes like ass but it’s better than nothing.”

“Akara told you I was here?” I ask as I take the cup. The light beige color of the liquid doesn’t surprise me. Quinn knows my drip coffee order. Four creams. One sugar.

“Yeah, he’s worried about you. I am too. We all are.”

I stare at the floor as I repeat, “We all are. Seems too vague to be real. Especially since the security team has more things to worry about than me.”

“Pretty sure most of the guys on the team are good at multitasking. Myself included.” He takes a seat on the stairs beside me. This close, I can make out the little scar underneath his eye. He smells like juniper and thyme. I wonder if it’s his soap.

Guys on the team.

It’s a reminder that I’m surrounded by men at work and even at home. Two male roommates. One of which is sitting next to me. My client is my closest female friend, and she was kidnapped and assaulted tonight. But at least she’s alive, Frog. Words of reassurance still sink to the pit of my churning stomach. “I’m thinking about quitting,” I admit to Quinn, skipping over the part where I did attempt to quit.

He runs a hand over his mouth. “Frog—”

“I really, really love this job,” I tell him. “And I was warned by a bunch of guys that it comes with a side helping of trauma, but I don’t know how I’m supposed to face her again. Luna won’t want me on her detail. If I were her, I’d fire me as soon as I gained consciousness. So quitting will just be speedrunning to the inevitable.”

Quinn shakes his head. “Luna’s not you. I don’t think she’s going to be as hard on you as you are on yourself.”

My throat swells even more, and I struggle to take a sip of coffee. The paper cup warms my hands.

He continues, “But if you want to take a break or a leave of absence to work through what happened tonight, I don’t think anyone would blame you.”

I shake my head on instinct. “I can’t have any of the guys thinking I’m weak. They already stare at me like I could snap in half as easy as a wishbone.”

He lets out a guttural growl of annoyance. “Yeah, it’s bullshit,” he says, not even denying the “Frog is weak” sentiments on the team. He’s been a witness to the underhanded comments. There are plenty of bodyguards who don’t view my size as an asset, but just as many who see I have strengths in other areas that count.

“Be honest.” I meet his gaze with earnestness. “Do you think you would’ve done a better job if you were on Luna’s detail tonight?”

During the start of his security career, Quinn had been Luna’s bodyguard for two years. For me it’s only been months. I love Luna for letting rookies be on her detail. For letting us gain our wings by protecting her, and I so very much hate that it might’ve come at her cost tonight.

“I think…” Quinn takes a deep breath and stares up at the winding stairs above us. “I think if you swapped any of us out with you, even Akara, nothing would change.” He sighs heavily. “Some people are just marked for bad luck—and for whatever reason, Luna’s one of those people. It’s why we can’t give up on her, you know? Why you shouldn’t quit on her either.”

Emotion I’d been fighting starts to build. I hadn’t thought of it like that. Quitting always felt like running away from my guilt, not running away from her.

I’d never quit on her. I’d throw my body in front of a moving vehicle for her. It’s all I’ve thought about tonight. How I’m physically supposed to take a bullet for Luna, and yet she’s the one lying in the ICU. And here I am, considering walking away? When she’s still fighting to wake up?

“I don’t want to quit on her,” I say. “I won’t quit on her. But I still think she’ll want someone else.”

“Or she could want you even more,” Quinn counters. “Because sometimes when we go through heavy shit, it’s better to have people around you’re familiar and comfortable with.” He meets my eyes in a weighted beat, and I know he’s talking about me too.

“I think I'm okay. I’m not the one in the ICU.”

He nods slowly, then rises to his feet. He holds out his hand, and I stare at his open palm. I wonder if it’s a challenge. Take his hand—show him I’m fine.

Reject it—cry in the stairwell.

I want to be tough.

I want to prove I’ve got the grit for this job.

If it means burying my emotions, I can do it. I’ve done it before.

So it’s barely a decision.

I take his hand and bury it all.

Thank you all for being here in April! We're bringing it back to Frog and Quinn while we wait for Burn Bright in September. We're so excited to be back inside the world of SFO, and we just love exploring the bodyguard x bodyguard dynamic. Before we started writing the content this month, we reread the first seven chapters again, and we realized that this story needs a prologue to establish some emotional weight to Frog's arc.

We'll also be updating some of Chapter One (slight tweaks) to flow better from this prologue. But since we're writing this story "serial style" be prepared for some tweaks here and there to early chapters. We won't change anything drastic, and if there's more edits than simple typos, we'll re-send out the chapter via email and let you know in the chapter notes (under the ornamental break below!) that it's been updated and give the edits a time stamp.

So be on the lookout for an updated Chapter 1 in your inbox. And we'll also be posting Chapter 7 soon!

xoxo Krista & Becca

CHAPTER NOTES: This prologue takes place 6 months before Chapter One.

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RESOURCES:  Check out Frog & Quinn's Collection for more of their chapters as their story continues.