PROLOGUE

He noticed that her long tapered fingers shook just ever so slightly as she handed over the check. The amount was correct, possibly even a little extra, so he didn’t give it a second glance as he stuffed it into his pocket. He calmly eyed his former client, his expression so neutral as to make one believe he was waiting for instruction as what to do next. A cough, followed by another one, forced his attention to the gentleman standing beside her. A hand reached out for a shake; a word of goodbye was spoken to him. Was that fear he saw in the gentleman’s eyes? A catch of desperation in his voice? He hoped so. His large, massive hand with untold strength enclosed the smaller one and gave it a quick shake. A desire to crush it, contort it into an unrecognizable shape overwhelmed him. Almost. He quickly let go of the hand, giving a short nod with his head and turned to walk out of the plush office. A small smile of satisfaction briefly materialized on his lips as he heard the woman behind him break into uncontrollable sobs.

CHAPTER ONE – FAMILY VALUES

Xavier Delgado, bodyguard to the elite, now unemployed, drove cautiously down the street, looking carefully at each cookie-cutter house he passed. Finally finding the number he wanted, he swung sharply into the driveway and turned off the radio blaring away with some music he could recognize as only one of those "boy-toy" bands his niece was always swooning over. He locked the SUV’s door, mindful of the neighborhood. He hated this area, full of drifters, gangs, and any other low-life scum looking for an easy target. Xavier’s mouth twisted into a tight smile as he visualized the possibility of meeting up with one of them.

He walked slowly up the sidewalk, noticing the crumbling concrete and weeds that proliferated around the small house. Damn! Where the hell was all the money he was giving his sister going to, anyway? An excited yell and slam of a door opening dragged Xavier’s attention away from the weeds and he looked up to see his niece barreling toward him at top speed. He caught her easily and swung her up high over his head to screeches of delight. Ugh. She was dirty, sticky with God–knows-what and Xavier put her down quickly.

"Lizzy!"

Xavier heard his sister’s hoarse voice yelling at her 10-year-old daughter and he straightened up to see Aggie leaning against the side of the doorframe, cigarette in one hand, the other hand resting on her seven-month pregnant belly.

"Are those for you, or the baby?" he sneered as he brushed by her yanking the burning cigarette from her and crushing it underfoot before he went inside.

"Ha. Ha." mocked his sister, trailing after Xavier and following him into her dilapidated kitchen, all the while searching in vain to locate a stray cigarette. She watched as he threw a piece of paper onto the kitchen table on his way over to the refrigerator to search for a beer.

"Hey!" she said, impressed by the size of the check. "What did you do? Knock over a bank?"

"I’m a bodyguard, remember? I get paid well." Xavier yanked open the handle, crouched down, and reached far into the back of the refrigerator. Finding what he wanted he pulled out a cold one and twisted off the cap. He sighed with relief after taking a long gulp, then swore, "Damn Florida heat!"

Aggie glanced at the check again then gave her brother a knowing look. "No bodyguard gets paid this well. You must have scared the shit outta someone real good."

"I get paid to protect."

"I’ll bet," she said dryly.

Xavier sighed impatiently. "Just save me 25 out of it," he said, nodding to the check. "You can have the rest. And for Christ’s sake, take some of it and clean up your yard!"

Aggie smiled as she walked over to her purse on the counter and shoved the check into it. "Thanks," she acknowledged bluntly. She turned and watched him take a swig from the bottle then dragged a chair out from the kitchen table and settled into it. Propping her feet up on another seat she relaxed and scanned the table, hoping a cigarette was lying around. Finding none, she sighed and eyed her brother with a contemplative stare.

"So, when will you be leaving?"

Xavier gave her a sour smile, recognizing her candid wish to be rid of him as soon as possible. He wiped his mouth, then held the amber bottle up to eye level, swirling the contents of the remaining beer. "Don’t know. Maybe a week, two at most. Soon as I find another job, I’ll be leaving."

Aggie nodded, then winced as she felt the baby kick down low. "Ouch." Xavier walked over to the trashcan, opened the lid and threw the empty bottle away.

"So, do you know who the father is?" His tone of voice left no question as to his distaste.

"Yeah, and I’m not telling you. I’m not letting you beat the crap outta him like you did to the other one."

"Aggie, believe it or not, this time I really don’t care."

She eyed him suspiciously, but knew better than to argue. The blare of the TV from the next room came to life, filling the house with music. "What the hell is all that racket?" Xavier snarled. It sounded just like the music he had heard when driving up to the house and he went to go investigate. Aggie followed her brother into the other room.

"Ever hear of MTV?" she asked sarcastically.

Xavier shot her a dark look in reply then watched his niece dance rythmically to the song on the TV. He turned to look at his sister with disbelief. "You let her watch this shit?"

Aggie shrugged for an answer and went over slowly to lower herself into a chair. Lizzy danced over to her uncle, a smile beaming from her face as she grabbed his massive hand with both of her own. She tugged hard, trying to drag him over to the couch. "Uncle X! Uncle X! I like them! Sit down with me and watch them, please?" Xavier cringed at the nickname and swore under his breath.

"Let me get another beer first, ok?"

He returned with the drink and flopped down onto the couch. "Okay. So exactly what am I looking at?"

"My favorite group, the Backstreet Boys!" She twirled a little pirouette in front of the TV set. "Aren’t they great?"

Xavier gave her a noncommittal grunt and slowly took a sip of his beer. The music had died down and the announcer began to talk about them. Apparently, a new tour was starting, songs from their new album would be covered, most shows were sold out, blah, blah, blah. Xavier didn’t listen to the rest. He gazed upward at the ceiling, lost in thought and his sister looked at him carefully, a frown forming on her face.

"Xavier..." she began slowly.

"Shut up."

"Xavier, please don’t..."

She was cut off with a vicious glare, a look that left no room for doubt in his meaning.

Aggie felt queasy, a horrible nausea flooding her body and senses. Not sure whether it was from the baby or her growing suspicions, she rose suddenly and hurried down to the bathroom hoping to hell she made it in time.

Xavier never noticed her swift exit. He began to watch the show intently, trying to absorb everything before him. One by one each of the band members were shown, a short biographical story describing his life and association with the group. Xavier leaned forward on the couch, hands clasped, as if in prayer, under his chin. His dark eyes became intense, his body tightly coiled as if ready to pounce on an unsuspecting prey. One by one, Xavier began to engrave into his memory each singer’s history and association with the band. As the last one of the group was being documented, Xavier suddenly found himself being taken aback; his mind quickly shifted and he instantly dismissed the others, knowing with full certainty that this was the one. A curious jolt of excitement motivated him to painstakingly study the Backstreet Boy. Intrigued, Xavier watched the young man being interviewed; by far, he was the most charismatic. A connection had been made and Xavier held his breath as he attempted to absorb every nuance of his face, manner, and style.

A cold and clammy hand touching his shoulder brought Xavier out of his reverie and he looked up to find a distressed and pleading look on his sister’s pale face. He waved her off with an impatient flick of his hand and turned back to the screen. The show had ended and Lizzy was switching channels with the remote control at a 10-year-old frenzied pace.

Xavier leaned back into the soft support of the couch and, as a quiet calmness spread across his broad face, ignored his sister’s growing anxiety. Lizzy had found a channel she liked, something called VH-1, and was humming along to another tune. Xavier looked at her, a quirk of a smile touching his lips. He knew now what he was going to do, what direction his next assignment would take him, and most importantly of all, the thrill he would get out of it. His fists clenched and unclenched with anticipation as he looked at his niece lying on the floor, her little legs wiggling in time to the music.

"Hey, Elizabeth." She stopped squirming and turned a questioning look towards him. Small brown eyes met larger excited ones.

"How would you like to meet the Backstreet Boys?"

CHAPTER TWO - DISCOVERY

For the last couple of weeks the baby had been particularly active, so it wasn’t unusual for Aggie to be pacing up and down the hallway late at night, desperately wanting a cigarette. Xavier had taken all her smokes away and had threatened (in no uncertain terms) that if he smelled even the slightest wiff, she could kiss goodbye any more support. She smiled sourly at the thought of his promise to withhold financial support and wondered what he would do if he found out that she was going to sell this baby for a nice little profit. Not that he would find out, of course. Aggie’s thoughts were interrupted as she noticed a small sliver of yellow light shine from under Xavier's door. He had been locked up his room for over a week now with that damn computer, coming out only for occasional trips downtown. She was glad she had not hocked the computer he had given her sometime ago; even happier when she found out last night that he was leaving soon. She knew it had to do with his fascination over that Backstreet Boy. Aggie tried to put that unpleasant thought out of her head. She recognized without a doubt that her brother was dangerous, but to what extent she never cared to explore. Hopefully, the couple who wanted this kid would pay handsomely and then she’d be gone, taking Lizzy and getting the hell out of Florida; leaving behind the disaster she knew would soon start.

Xavier shut down the computer and leaned back into his chair, a smile of content finally crossing his face. It was done. He had done it, but then he knew he could. Xavier had called in a few markers, made a few veiled threats, and knowing his ability to get what he wanted, was not at all surprised when the managing firm of the Backstreet Boys had telephoned him with a job offer. Xavier smirked as he listened to the HR representative describe the surprising absence of one of their most trusted bodyguards and how thrilled they were to find such a "respected and qualified" bodyguard at such short notice.

As usual, the head of employment had tried to get him to take a ridiculously low salary and they had haggled for some time before coming to a decent offer. Xavier would have taken any amount the young supervisor offered, but knew that the other bodyguards for this group would sooner or later find out his wage and decided to negotiate for similar pay.

It was a little harder to accomplish the rest of what he needed. He loved the Internet, and was quite adept at it, but surprise and then disbelief overtook him as he began his search into the Backstreet Boys. He was dumbstruck at the amount of shit that was posted. It took him many long and frustrating hours weeding through all the sites, discarding this and printing that, but he finally got the information he needed, then checked and double-checked for accuracy. Every now and then he relaxed and smiled as he stared at the pictures of the young singer taped against the computer. Lizzy, in her innocence, had been delighted that her uncle had thought so highly of her favorite Backstreet Boy and had furnished several pictures. She chatted away about things he didn’t care about, but listened politely, then carefully guided her into "what if" scenarios to get her reaction that only a fan could answer. He mentally stored the pertinent information away and thanked her, promising solemnly that he would indeed get autographs for her and that he would do everything possible for her to meet them. She skipped happily out of his room and he snorted with disgust. Yeah, right.

CHAPTER THREE – TOGETHER

A collective sigh of relief escaped from the Backstreet Boys as they collapsed onto the hardwood floor of the exercise room. They had been practicing their movements non-stop, until they had complained that the air-conditioner didn’t seem to be working right and that under no uncertain terms would anyone start again until the air was cranked up. As Fatima left to go find someone in maintenance she warned them not to get too comfortable. AJ snorted and muttered "right" then sprawled spread-eagle onto the ground. Kevin and Howie got up and walked over to the water cooler while Nick sat up, reached over to his duffel bag and fished a Nerf football out.

"Heads up, Bri," he warned and tossed the ball, hitting his friend smack in the face.

"Thanks, Nick." Brian gave him the finger and torpedoed the ball back at him as fast as he could. With a quick reflex, Nick rolled, caught the ball one-handed and off-balanced, then let go with a wicked laugh.

"Yesssss! Two points."

"Lucky catch." groused Brian, clapping his hands impatiently for Nick to toss him another throw. The blond singer made a heroic leap as Nick threw a high one, then flashed him a brilliant smile. "Three points!" Brian crowed, rating his catch.

"In your dreams, Rok!"

AJ groaned and rolled over onto his side, hand propping his head, as he watched the two players try to outdo each other’s catch. He groaned again, this time more audibly, trying to gain some sympathy. "Doesn’t anybody have indigestion?" AJ watched as Nick came sprinting by, then playfully stuck out his leg, hoping he could trip Nick running for a catch. He missed. "And just whose brilliant idea was it anyway to have Chinese food before practice?"

"Howie," answered Kevin, Nick and Brian simultaneously.

"Hey," protested the offended party. "Can I help it if your stomach isn’t used to quality food?"

"Hey," mimicked AJ. "Mind if I fart in your direction next time we practice?"

"Better than slapping me in the face again when we’re rehearsing. You’re timing today is horrible." Howie retorted.

AJ gave Howie a "who me?" expression and Kevin smiled as he sat down next to his reclining friend. The oldest of the Backstreet Boys glanced about the bare room, shaking his head.

"Jeez, you’d think they could afford a chair for us to rest on." Kevin grumbled as he took a sip of his water.

"Naw," replied Howie, "Backstreet management would have a heart attack over the expenditure!" AJ and Kevin laughed at their friend’s remark. Sometimes the simplest needs were too hard for their management team to comprehend.

AJ nudged Kevin with his leg and motioned for him to share his drink. Kevin passed the water to him and then watched as his cousin made a between-the-legs catch. "I heard that they got rid of John." commented Kevin. Nick and Brian stopped tossing the ball when they heard that.

"I thought John quit," offered Brian.

"Huh? What do you mean? Quit? Fired? Which one?’" questioned Nick.

AJ sighed. "Whatever. Doesn’t matter now. We go through bodyguards like water!"

Howie glanced over to the group, all sitting down now, except for him. He splashed some of his water onto his neck and face to cool himself off. "Well, do they have a replacement?"

Kevin shrugged. "They better. Tour is starting soon."

Brian lay down on his back, juggling the Nerf ball from hand to hand until Nick grabbed it. " I wonder who’ll get him?"

Howie shrugged. "Does it matter?" he asked.

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