Page 28
Story: The Bodyguard Situation
The simple promise unravels something deep within me, comforting yet unsettling. I inhale, trying to ground myself. “What happens now?”
“We leave,” he replies firmly. “You’ll stay with me until it’s safe to return to the city.”
I nod, accepting his words, clinging to the solid certainty he offers in this uncertain world.
“Eat and drink,” he instructs. “We have to hit the road soon.”
“Do you have a plan?” I ask, sipping water and feeling my strength somewhat trickle back.
He smirks slightly. “When do I not have a plan?”
“True.” I manage a small smile. “Does Billie hate me?”
He shakes his head immediately. “Never. Do you want to talk to her?”
“Eventually,” I admit. “Not yet. I’m not ready. Right now, I don’t know what was real and what wasn’t real.”
“I get it,” he says, handing me the crackers.
When I struggle to open them, he helps. I nibble one, and even though it’s stale, it’s good.
“Micah drugged me. He could’ve killed me. I want him to pay,” I whisper, determination in my chest.
Brody’s expression darkens with fury. “He will.”
8
BRODY
An hour later, we’re finally on the road. Harper still isn’t herself, and it might take another day for the drugs to fully work themselves through her system. That motherfucker could’ve killed her.
I grip the wheel tighter, battling the fatigue from the little sleep I managed to get in that uncomfortable chair. Thoughts of Harper and what Micah did to her keep racing through my mind. Each mile we drive puts more distance between her and him, but it doesn’t ease my tension at all because I want revenge.
Harper shifts restlessly, her breathing still uneven. Quiet mutters slip from her lips, but I can’t make out a single word. Every time she stirs, I glance at her, and my heart squeezes a little tighter.
She looks fragile, broken in ways I’ve never seen. It didn’t have to be like this.
A chill shakes her body, and without thinking, I reach for the jacket I tossed in the back seat earlier and carefully drape it over her. My fingers linger, brushing over her shoulder. She sighs at my touch. This tenderness is dangerous territory, a place I promised I’d never go again.
The clock on the dashboard ticks forward relentlessly, minutes slipping away in silence. After another hour of driving, I dial Billie’s number, and she answers right away.
“Is she okay? Tell me she’s okay, Brody.” Her frantic energy is hard to ignore. It makes me wonder how many paces she took around her office today.
“Yes,” I assure her, keeping my voice low so I don’t disturb Harper. “We’re headed somewhere secure.”
“Where?”
“The less you know, the safer everyone is,” I explain firmly, glancing back at Harper to make sure she’s still sleeping. “Just trust me, little cousin.”
Billie sighs. “Keep her safe, Brody.”
“Always.” My voice comes out more intense than I meant to. “I’ll call again soon.”
Before she can say anything else, I hang up. The silence in the car feels heavy again, and it’s usually something I can handle. I prefer it. I crave it. But right now, it’s smothering me.
Harper shifts once more, but she settles back, snuggling my jacket tighter.
Guilt roars bitterly in my stomach because I know this could’ve been avoided. I should’ve gotten to her sooner. I should’ve protected her better. I should’ve taken her when she was alone outside of the restaurant, but I hesitated. There were too many people around.
“We leave,” he replies firmly. “You’ll stay with me until it’s safe to return to the city.”
I nod, accepting his words, clinging to the solid certainty he offers in this uncertain world.
“Eat and drink,” he instructs. “We have to hit the road soon.”
“Do you have a plan?” I ask, sipping water and feeling my strength somewhat trickle back.
He smirks slightly. “When do I not have a plan?”
“True.” I manage a small smile. “Does Billie hate me?”
He shakes his head immediately. “Never. Do you want to talk to her?”
“Eventually,” I admit. “Not yet. I’m not ready. Right now, I don’t know what was real and what wasn’t real.”
“I get it,” he says, handing me the crackers.
When I struggle to open them, he helps. I nibble one, and even though it’s stale, it’s good.
“Micah drugged me. He could’ve killed me. I want him to pay,” I whisper, determination in my chest.
Brody’s expression darkens with fury. “He will.”
8
BRODY
An hour later, we’re finally on the road. Harper still isn’t herself, and it might take another day for the drugs to fully work themselves through her system. That motherfucker could’ve killed her.
I grip the wheel tighter, battling the fatigue from the little sleep I managed to get in that uncomfortable chair. Thoughts of Harper and what Micah did to her keep racing through my mind. Each mile we drive puts more distance between her and him, but it doesn’t ease my tension at all because I want revenge.
Harper shifts restlessly, her breathing still uneven. Quiet mutters slip from her lips, but I can’t make out a single word. Every time she stirs, I glance at her, and my heart squeezes a little tighter.
She looks fragile, broken in ways I’ve never seen. It didn’t have to be like this.
A chill shakes her body, and without thinking, I reach for the jacket I tossed in the back seat earlier and carefully drape it over her. My fingers linger, brushing over her shoulder. She sighs at my touch. This tenderness is dangerous territory, a place I promised I’d never go again.
The clock on the dashboard ticks forward relentlessly, minutes slipping away in silence. After another hour of driving, I dial Billie’s number, and she answers right away.
“Is she okay? Tell me she’s okay, Brody.” Her frantic energy is hard to ignore. It makes me wonder how many paces she took around her office today.
“Yes,” I assure her, keeping my voice low so I don’t disturb Harper. “We’re headed somewhere secure.”
“Where?”
“The less you know, the safer everyone is,” I explain firmly, glancing back at Harper to make sure she’s still sleeping. “Just trust me, little cousin.”
Billie sighs. “Keep her safe, Brody.”
“Always.” My voice comes out more intense than I meant to. “I’ll call again soon.”
Before she can say anything else, I hang up. The silence in the car feels heavy again, and it’s usually something I can handle. I prefer it. I crave it. But right now, it’s smothering me.
Harper shifts once more, but she settles back, snuggling my jacket tighter.
Guilt roars bitterly in my stomach because I know this could’ve been avoided. I should’ve gotten to her sooner. I should’ve protected her better. I should’ve taken her when she was alone outside of the restaurant, but I hesitated. There were too many people around.
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