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Travis Sanchez rubbed a hand over his head as he stepped into an elevator at the Red Stone Security building. His Mohawk was gone and he wore his hair in a buzz cut these days. It was probably his military background, but he always came back to this cut out of habit. The walk to Harrison’s office was too short. He wasn’t sure why his boss had called him in after his last security detail, but a small burst of panic had detonated in his gut. He loved this job, but there had been some issues with the CEO he’d recently been guarding not following Travis’ orders. The asshole had almost gotten himself killed and now Travis wondered if his head was on the chopping block because of it.
