Chapter 1
I fucked up, big time. That's how I ended up here. I had a promising career going as an assistant principal at the high school, with a wife and two kids and a house in the suburbs. Then one day, boom! It was gone in a puff of smoke. It was totally my fault, too. I knew better. I'd been having an affair with this woman who worked for me. Call it a mid-life crisis, I guess. The sex with Amanda was great for a while, but when I told her I wanted to end the affair because I felt guilty about cheating on my wife, she got angry. She filed a complaint with HR, claiming it was sexual harassment, saying I threatened to end her career if she didn't put out. It wasn't true, but once I admitting to having sex with a subordinate, no one wanted to listen to anything else. I was quickly fired and unceremoniously escorted out of the building. Of course, my wife, Kayla, found out. She barely said a word to me, just told me to get out of the house then filed for divorce. Before I knew what was happening, I was homeless, owing child support to a woman that hated me, and unemployed. The timing couldn't have been worse, either. Just about the time I was fucking myself out of a job, the economy took a huge downturn, and suddenly everyone was out of work with few jobs to be found.
I found myself a shitty little apartment and some second-hand furniture. I was going through my portion of the savings trying to make ends meet until I found a job. I got so desperate for work I started applying for anything. The few interviews I did get turned sour as soon as they found out why I left my last job. I finally got so desperate I applied for work as a security guard with a small local company. It was one guy named Carl running the company from a tiny, low rent office, and you could tell he was operating on a shoestring. But I was desperate, so when he offered me a job doing unarmed security for $12 an hour, I wasn't really in any position to say no. I was almost out of money, and still had to make rent.
I hated it from the moment I started. I've never liked security guards. I've always thought they were obnoxious, or stupid, or both. It felt humiliating to put on that cheap polyester uniform, but I really didn't have much choice. At least I didn't have to carry a gun. Carl told me I'd be working security at a construction site, mostly at night. He gave me the address and instructed me to report to my new boss, Brandon, that evening.
I got to the construction site, which was an older office building being renovated, and found the security office. When I went inside to introduce myself to my new boss, I got a surprise: Brandon turned out to be Brandon Mabry, a former student at my former school. Just. Fucking. Great. As if this wasn't humiliating enough, now I'm working for some kid I used to deal with in school.
I didn't know Brandon well, but I'd had a few encounters with him in my capacity as assistant principal. His family was poor, and he was sort of the trashy redneck type. He never was very bright nor dependable; sort of an irresponsible mouth breather with more muscles than brains, who barely managed to squeak by in most of this classes. I have no idea how he managed to graduate. I mostly remembered him as a bully who liked to use his fists.
The only thing I could think of that would be a worse idea than making Brandon Mabry a security guard would be allowing him to supervise others; and yet, there he was, dressed in a uniform with sergeant's stripes on his sleeve, acting like he was something special.
Brandon was about 23, and not a big guy. He was only about 5'9 but had a fairly muscular build without a lot of fat. Brown hair in a crew cut, brown eyes, and lots of tattoos on his arms. You got the impression talking with him that the got the tats because he thought they made him look like a badass, or because they showed off his muscles, not because they had any particular meaning for him. He was dressed in some sort of a SWAT-style tactical uniform of dark blue BDUs, a nylon gun belt and gear, a tactical vest, and black combat boots. He sported a Glock pistol on his hip. (I found out later this was because he also occasionally worked fugitive recovery as a bounty hunter). He looked just like a cop, except for a short goatee.
While Brandon showed me around the job site and explained my new duties, he filled me in about his life since he left school. He told me managed to get his girlfriend pregnant just before graduation, then ended up marrying her due to pressure from her family and his. They had three kids in four years. He had a house full of toddlers, a wife that nagged him a lot, and a marriage that had quickly grown old and tiresome for them both. He didn't sound like a very happy man.
I could tell that Brandon enjoyed having someone who used to be an authority figure in his life working for him, and he seemed to get off on bossing me around as much as possible. The job itself wasn't hard. Fortunately, I didn't have to deal with Brandon much. He supervised a number of sites, only stopping by once or twice a night to check up on things, unless someone called in sick or quit, in which case he might have to work their shift.
The job was monotonous, guarding a large building that was under renovation, and most of the time, I had to work the overnight shift. After years of working days, though, being awake all night was tough, no matter how much coffee I drank. Sitting in the guard office one night, I just closed my eyes for a minute...
