Let’s Start A Fire

Chapter 4: Chapter 3


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‘Human again? What does he mean?’ he wondered. “That sounds sad,” Gun mumbled.

Troy nodded his head, “That is the life of the president. Danger lurks in the shadows, and he doesn’t sleep well at night. Do you think you can help me with my problem? Are you capable of protecting him?”

“I don’t even know how to fight,” he said, thinking the idea to be ridiculous.

Troy smiled. “I’ll teach you.”

Gun’s lowered his head. “Can you give me some time to think it over?”

“How much time do you need? We have forty-five minutes left,” he said.

Gun nodded his head. “I’ll be ready.”

Troy left him in the office and stood outside the door. He was taking an enormous risk here, and he was uncertain it would work out in his favour.

His boss was definitely going to kill him, but it was worth a shot. And he specifically monitored Gun before approaching him with the message.

*

Gun sat on a chair staring at the wall limp. ‘What have I gotten myself into and why did I just say that I will be ready?’

He stood up and started pacing around in the office. How was he going to do this?

How was he going to deal with that God who walked past him and made him shudder with his gaze alone?

He wanted a boyfriend, but not like this.

He had many options at university, not to mention the man who approached him at the club last month. He still had his number, but never reached out to him. Was it too late now?

He sat with his head in his hands, pondering about what he could do. Running away and declining was an option, but why?

Just why won’t his legs and body move?

And to do this for money? That wasn’t right.

*

Troy knocked on the door and opened it. He looked at Gun, who had his head dropped back and his eyes closed. “There are only ten minutes left. I’ve arranged for you two to have lunch in his office, but he does not know.”

Gun’s eyes opened, and he nodded his head. Standing up, he said, “Okay. And I don’t need the money, just pay for my cab bills and dinner.”

Troy nodded his head impressed, “Very good.”

*

Troy knocked on the office door as he looked at Gun and said, “Sir, your next appointment is here.”

There was no answer, and he whispered, “Good luck. Don’t let him scare you.”

Gun nodded his head. His heart was beating so fast.

He had a plan, just treat him like you would a child, but this was the owner of this company. What if he fucked up, and he threw him out of the window?

They were all the way up, almost touching the sky. He would die before he even reached the bottom.

Gun pushed the door open and saw him standing there by the window. The windows were floor to ceiling length, and the view was breathtaking.

His back was facing him, and it looked lonely. How he could tell? It’s how his father’s back looked when he was going through the divorce.

Gun’s heels clacked against the tiled floors as he walked over, stopping beside King.

King turned to him and stepped back because he was so short.

Chips, Troy, Delta and Drew were in the office too. All of them had a smirk on their faces. They knew exactly who Gun was; they selected him together.

After giving him an evaluation, he asked, “Who are you?”

Gun gazed up at him, saying as he held his hand out, “It’s nice to meet you, Mr Kai. I’m Vachirawit Laedeke.”

King looked down at his hand and slowly raised his. Taking his hand in his, they shook hands. Gun smiled, saying, “I ordered lunch for us. How about we have a seat while we wait for it to arrive?”

Gun slid his hand up his arm, hooking arms with him, and dragged him to his desk and forced him down. He went to sit opposite Kai.

King looked at him as he took his jacket off and made himself comfortable. “So tell me, Mr Laedeke, what service can my business offer you? Or what is it you can offer me?”

Gun smiled at him and shook his head, “I told you, I ordered lunch. A service? You won’t be getting one.”

His brows furrowed. What was happening here?

He glanced over at Troy, who was on his way out to get the food that was being placed on plates.

Gun and King had a staring competition for over a minute and King became angry, but he had a reputation to uphold. This appointment was scheduled over a month ago, so there must be a reason Gun was here.

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He’d have to do a background check on him later.

He didn’t like what was happening. Gun was just staring at him and the smile he had had faded already. That same gaze he had in his eyes when he passed him in the lobby, was staring at him—it was uncomfortable, very uncomfortable, as if he could read his mind.

Chapter 4

Troy came in with a mobile tray filled with food. Gun turned to him and smiled on the outside, but on the inside, his soul left his body already. Especially when King’s frown deepened and the anger in his eyes escalated.

Gun stood up and walked to the brown couch behind the coffee table. He sat down and looked at King, who was still sitting and glaring at him, and asked, “Will you not join me? And I hope you like Italian.”

King looked at Troy, who was just smiling, and showed him to the couch as well.

King got up and took off his jacket. He chucked it against the chair and stalked over. Gun quickly moved up, making space for him, but it looked like he wanted to run away.

King smirked at his reaction and composed himself. It seemed like he still had some control left in his office, to think he was letting Gun’s appearance make him falter. This short, petite man ruin his mood.

Gun didn’t even want to eat. He was so close to him and his smell, it was intoxicating. Gun forced a smile, saying, “Enjoy.”

“After you,” King said, showing him the plates.

Gun picked up a plate of carbonara and started eating. He didn’t even look at King when he picked up the plate of spaghetti and meatballs. The food was delicious. It would have been better if he was not so nervous.

*

“So tell me about yourself,” he blurted. The silence was insufferable right now.

King looked at him as he turned to him and said, “Well, you should already know about me. You are the one who arranged this appointment.”

Gun chuckled, hiding his smile behind his hand asking, “Is that so? Would you believe me if I told you I know nothing?”

“Then why are you here?” He asked, frowning.

Gun shrugged, turning his head away while he held his smile. Looking down at the plate in his hand, he said, “I don’t know, actually. All of this is a surprise to me, but I’m having fun, I guess. I saw you in the lobby if that counts, so we can’t say I’ve never met or seen you before.”

Gun turned to him, saying, “Don’t eat all of that though. I want to taste it as well. I don’t know why he didn’t order two of each.”

He looked at Troy asking, “Speaking of which, is there dessert?”

“There is!” Troy said giddy.

This was going so well, he didn’t expect Gun to be so open and even if King wasn’t happy right now, but he was eating with a stranger. Something he never does unless he is in control of what is going to be eaten.

King looked at his plate. “You have your own.”

“What did I just say?” Gun suddenly snapped. He held a glare asking, “Should I repeat myself? And it’s not like I will not keep for you too.”

He turned back to his food, making a tsking sound, sounding annoyed. King grew annoyed too. Never, and I mean never, has anyone disrespected him or reprimanded him and got away with it.

He placed the plate down and turned to Gun. He opened his mouth, about to say something when Gun placed his plate on his lap. “You have food on your mouth.”

He mumbled and reached to wipe it off from the corner of his mouth. His finger with the sauce moved to his mouth, licking it clean, and he picked up King’s spaghetti and started eating.

The four extras in the room looked away, astounded. King was stunned. WHO THE HELL WAS THIS PERSON!

He looked at his employees and saw that they weren’t looking at them. As if giving them privacy. Were they behind this?

*

King walked Gun out of the building with his henchmen behind him. Gun was in between them and he couldn’t stop looking back at Troy, who was avoiding him. He saw that the other three had smirks on their faces, figuring that they were on to what was happening.

They stopped on the first step. King turned to him asking, “Where is your car?”

Gun smiled at him. He was about to say that he had arrived with a cab when Troy jumped in, saying, “I will take him home, sir. His driver called in sick.”

Gun looked at him and immediately King picked up that it was a lie. He took in a deep breath, saying, “Fine, see that he arrives home safely and come see me immediately when you return.”

“No, that’s fine. I want to go for a walk,” Gun interrupted. He turned to King with a smile, but then frowned. “What’s that on your face?”

King started touching his face and looked at Troy, who was staring at him, confused. He looked down at Gun, who was staring at him. “Come here, let me remove it,” he said.

King lowered his face slowly. Gun stood on his toes just as he came closer and placed a kiss on his cheek.

The henchmen stepped back, surprised and so did Gun, who wanted to get away from King. He winked at Troy and said, “I guess I’ll be off now.”

Troy nodded his head as he blushed. He walked off with a bounce in his steps, moving elegantly. King looked at him,  taken aback.

After he was out of sight, he looked around and saw that he had many eyes on him and yelled, “WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT? GET BACK TO WORK!”

*

Gun caught a cab and sighed, relieved. Looking at his phone, he went through the notifications and his eyes widened, surprised. Troy had sent him more than he was promised. Five thousand dollars to his account that was linked with his phone number.

He shuddered thinking about this and saw a second message: The money is for doing a good job. Thank you so much.

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