Except Devin is.

“Liberty?”

Her focus snapped back to Crash. “Sorry. What did you say?”

“Just that there’s a surprise for Devin.” Crash whistled, and a guy using a cane came around the corner of the bus.

Devin said, “I’ll be damned.”

“Who is that?”

“JT. My bus driver.”

“The one who . . . ?” Was assaulted?

“That’s him.”

JT shuffled over and shook Devin’s hand. “Bet you thought you got rid of me, huh?”

“Nah. Good to see you, man. How’re you feelin’?”

“Better than the last time you saw me.”

“That’s good to hear. How long have you been here?”

“Flew in yesterday. Relieved that other dude. Told him I was back and we didn’t need his services.”

“You said that to Reg?” Liberty asked.

JT’s eyes slid to Liberty. After his head-to-toe once-over, she felt . . . slimed. “Who’s this?”

When Crash opened his mouth, Liberty cut him off. She didn’t know this JT guy, and she wasn’t sure she wanted him in the security loop. “I’m Liberty. Mr. McClain’s personal assistant.”

He snorted. “Since when do you need one of those, Devin?”

“Since Mr. McClain’s promotion company recommended it and since Crash has other pressing duties as tour manager.”

“Outta commission for a little while and everything changes,” he grumbled.

“Speaking of . . . Since this isn’t the same bus, and we are doing things differently, the promotion company would like me to go over the new safety protocols with you.”

JT glared at Crash. “I get f**kin’ attacked on Devin’s bus, been outta work three months and I come back to this bullshit?”

“JT—”

“I’ve been driving bus for you for three tours,” JT said to Devin. “I know f**kin’ safety protocols. Who does this bi—”

“Choose your words carefully,” Devin warned, getting right in his face.

“Why? Are you and her . . . ?” JT laughed. “Now I get it.” He winked and nudged Devin. “Of course I’ll listen to your personal assistant’s suggestions.”

He made personal assistant sound like whore.

Neither Crash nor Devin stood up for her, which wasn’t surprising, but it was disappointing. It wasn’t the first time she’d been subjected to men like JT. She’d learned to deal with them on the level they understood. JT thought she was a groupie bimbo? Fine. That made her job easier. “When the band is rehearsing, you and I will go over everything. Shouldn’t take more than an hour with the paperwork.”

“Paperwork?”

She nodded. “New policies. But being as you’ve been a bus driver for so many tours over the years, you should be used to the paperwork grind, right?”

He harrumphed.

Liberty addressed Crash. “Did the old bus have electronic log reporting?”

“As far as I know. Why?”

“It’s imperative that JT knows how to run the new system because the promotion company will accept written logs for no more than a week. I suggest you get Reg back here to train him because this bus isn’t going anywhere until we have a qualified driver.”

She could sense JT fuming. Good. Once she got Crash and Devin alone, she’d express her displeasure about Reg being pulled from duty. “See you later.” She picked up her suitcase before Devin offered to help her. Wouldn’t want to look helpless.

Crash walked away with JT as Liberty moved to the bus door to enter the code. But the bus wasn’t locked.

“Son of a bitch.” She ditched her suitcase, pushed open the door and scaled the stairs. When she reached her bunk, she crouched down and pulled out her padlock key. “If one f**king thing is missing I will have the goddamn cops here so fast . . .” She unlocked the drawer where she’d stowed her guns, her stomach going into free fall at seeing that someone had tried to jimmy the lock.

“Liberty, what the f**k—”

“Ssh. I’m counting.” All four guns there. Taser there. No bullets missing from the boxes. She heaved a sigh of relief. Then she grabbed her Kahr Arms PM45 and set it on the bed. She stood and faced off with Devin.

He looked at her and waited.

“Here’s where I’m at. And maybe I should preface this by saying that as your personal security, not your . . . whatever we are outside of the hours I’m paid to protect you. After the Houston incident, I agreed to go to Jacksonville only because Big Sky promised me that Reg—and only Reg—would stay with the bus in Houston during the repair stage and he’d be driving the bus across country to Portland. But I get here and discover that JT bulldozed his way into getting his old job back. As head of your security, I should’ve been consulted on that decision—not informed after the fact.

“To make matters even worse, I also get here to find that the goddamn door to the bus isn’t even f**king locked! Who the f**k knows how long it sat here with the contents unprotected!” She closed her eyes and counted to ten before she opened them again. “If the firearms registered to me were to fall into the wrong hands, it’s all on me. Not only am I in trouble with the federal government, but I would likely lose my job. Yes, I understand it was my choice to believe the promises Big Sky made me. If I would’ve had any suspicions at all that Reg would be replaced and your safety would be compromised on the first f**king day back on tour, I would’ve waited, packed up my guns in Houston and flown with them to Denver.”