Expecting
Drax knew that the guys he was working with on this gig looked down on him. They were all former Special Forces or ex-SWAT. They thought he was just an overpaid bouncer, a thug playing protector.
Even Hudson had questioned his qualifications at first.
“Tell me, Mr. Fry…” Hudson had started their interview.
“Please, call me Drax,” he’d interrupted. He could see he wasn’t being taken seriously. Something about Hudson’s body language, maybe it was the tone of his voice, something made Drax sure that this guy wasn’t planning on hiring him.
“Okay…Drax. All of the guys that I’ve hired so far have military or law enforcement backgrounds, but your expertise seems to be protecting musicians. Do you really think you’re of the caliber to work this job?”
“Listen, Mr. Hudson, I understand your concern. You look at my background and you think I’ve spent years beating up on obsessed fans. My expertise, if you’d call it that, has been protecting an artist who offended gangs. I’ve worked with cops and soldiers before, and they’ve told me that a gang war is still a war. They’re as well armed as any crime syndicate or terrorist cell. Besides, that was only one, though the most high profile, of the jobs that I’ve worked. You can call my references to check, but I can assure you that I’ve seen my share of action. I know what I’m doing.”
Hudson nodded. “So you don’t scare easily?”
“Mr. Hudson, I’ve been shot three times. I’ve been stabbed twice. Once I was caught in an explosion. I have fought off groups, often enough armed groups…Frankly, I don’t scare at all.”
“What’s the deal with the Drax nickname?” Hudson asked.
Drax smiled. Something he’d said had struck a chord with the rich bastard. His body language had switched up.
“One of my early jobs was protecting two kids. The boy, Jamie, was a comic buff, always reading the damn things.” Drax paused, considered his words, and said. “I always tried to get them out of places before there was trouble. I didn’t want them to see anything…unsavory. They were just kids.”
He sighed. “So the one time I couldn’t, they watched me lay into a guy who was coming at them. I caught him just right, broke both cheekbones, his nose, most of his teeth.” Drax smiled again and held up one of his massive hands. He made a fist. His knuckles were covered with scars. “Crushed up his whole face.”
“After that, the kid started calling me Drax after some superhero or something. It’s got a good ring to it. It stuck.”
Hudson smiled then. “You know, there’s something about you…I can’t put my finger on what it is, but I’d like to make you an offer.”
***