DeShone Thomas

Happy Halloween, folks! 🎃🖤 Figured I'd clean up pretty well as the Ghost with the Most. Hope everyone's having a hell of a night. Stay safe, enjoy yourselves, and try not to get into too much trouble. Although, where's the fun in that? 😉 Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice! 💀👻

Just casual have this playing in the background as I prepare to go through the latest threat assessments for this weekends contracts open.spotify.com/track/3gVhs…

Music can very much be a glimpse into a person's soul and psyche, just please do not ask to see my music/song preferences @APuzzledEnigma

Almost 0700 and already on the second coffee. ☕ Early start ahead of a busy day at Black Star Security. The work doesn't wait, and neither do the opportunities. Get up, get after it, and give the day a reason to remember you. Stay focused. Stay hungry. Let's get it. 💪🏻

☀️ Good morning, everyone! Starting the day the right way. Heading to the range today to put some new “toys” through their paces. 😎🎯 At Black Star Security, preparation, precision, and professionalism are everything. We don’t just talk about being ready — we put in the work. Stay sharp. Stay ready. Have a great day, everyone! 🤙🏾🖤⭐ #BlackStarSecurity #RangeDay #StayReady #ExecutiveProtection

I never figured I’d see forty-two. Didn’t even figure I’d see twenty-five, if I’m honest. Kid from Lake Charles with no old man, a record already starting, and a temper that kept looking for the wrong door. When they gave me the choice—bars or the Corps—I took the one that at least came with a haircut and three squares. That was the extent of the plan. Get through training. Don’t catch a charge. Maybe make it home in one piece someday. Then the years started stacking. Iraq. Afghanistan. Sitting in a hide for three days watching a road that never quite stayed quiet. Learning how long a man can stay still when the alternative is loud and final. I got good at it. Good enough that people started trusting me with the hard ones. Good enough that I started thinking maybe the universe had decided to keep me around a while. Then April fifteenth, 2016. Two rounds in the left leg. Femur gone. Blood everywhere. I remember the medic’s hands on me and the way the sky looked when they loaded me. I remember thinking, clear as anything, that the numbers were done. That whatever came next wasn’t going to include me standing on my own feet again, let alone blowing out candles. They put the leg back together. Didn’t put everything else back the same way. Pain stays. Sleep doesn’t. Some nights the radio traffic still plays in my head like it never left. And the names—the ones who didn’t get the same second chance—those stay too. I carry them. Always will. So no. I never thought about forty-two. Not really. Not as a thing that would actually show up. Yet here it is, two days out, and I’m still walking. Still running a company that puts people between bad situations and the ones who can’t handle them. Still training kids who think they’re invincible until the first time they aren’t. Guess the mission isn’t finished yet. Didn’t expect to be the one still here to see it.