Page 6 of Snowed in with the Bodyguard

“What?” I demand, pulling my hand back reluctantly. The warmth of his touch lingers against my skin, an uncomfortable reminder of the intensity between us.

“It’s probably from the other security details your father has watching out for us,” he replies cautiously. “Are you sure you want to see it?”

The thought that it could be news about my family strikes a nerve, and I don’t hesitate. Reaching for the phone again, I say,“I may think my father’s a monster, but I love my mom and brother.”

He watches me with that same unreadable look as I pick up the phone. My father’s messages sit at the top, alongside a flurry of notifications.

I frown, scrolling through. “Shouldn’t you have a password on here? You know, since you work for my dad and all?”

“It takes too long to punch in a code, and sometimes, I don’t have that kind of time,” he replies, shifting gears as we start up a long incline.

The car growls as it powers up the hill, the cityscape shrinking in the rearview mirror as we head deeper into the mountains. I’m relieved to be putting distance between us and the chaos back in the city. The farther we get, the safer I feel—or at least, the less exposed.

I skim through the first message, and a flood of relief washes over me. My mother and brother are safe, already on a plane bound for California and the safe house there. But my relief is short-lived, quickly replaced by something darker, sharper—betrayal.They left the state without me.

I grip the phone tightly, my jaw clenching as a bitter realization settles in. The words slip out under my breath, my voice laced with resentment. “Of course, Dad ran off with my brother, his heir. I’m just his daughter, so fuck me, right?”

Jack must have heard me because he looks over, a hint of sympathy in his eyes. “Your dad cares about you. He wouldn’t have put me with you if he didn’t.”

I scoff, rolling my eyes. “You’re mistaking his desire to protect his property for real affection. My dad doesn’t care about me. He just doesn’t want me doing anything to embarrass him.”

I put the phone down, the weight of the realization settling over me. It hurts more than I want to admit. The knowledge that my father has prioritized my brother’s safety, leaving me behind, confirms every suspicion I’ve harbored about his indifference toward me.

Jack glances over, his expression softened by an understanding I didn’t expect. “I can’t pretend to know the dynamics of your family, but I do know he made sure you had protection. Whatever his reasons, he does care about your safety, even if it doesn’t feel that way.”

The pity in his tone makes my chest ache. I turn away, fixing my gaze on the passing trees as they blur into a wall of green and brown, disappearing behind us. “Yeah, well, if this is his way of caring, I’d hate to see what neglect looks like.”

Silence falls between us, thick with unspoken tension, the air heavy with the weight of my resentment. Outside, the road climbs higher, the forested hills stretching beneath us like a vast, untamed wilderness. The road twists and turns, mirroring the turmoil in my mind, each bend a reminder of the uncertainty that lies ahead.

Jack drives with a steady hand, his gaze fixed on the road as though nothing can break his concentration. But I sense he’s giving me space, waiting for me to speak if I choose to. There’s a strength in his silence, a quiet confidence that reassures and suffocates me.

My family feels like a distant, cold puzzle, each piece out of place, each truth buried beneath layers of pretense and expectations. I’m beginning to see myself as another pawn in my father’s larger game, caught in a web of obligations I haven’t asked for.

Beside me, Jack’s presence is steady but unyielding, a silent reminder of the danger I can’t escape. I steal a glance at him, his profile illuminated by the dim glow of the dashboard lights. His jaw is set, his expression impenetrable. He exudes a calm I can’t fathom, as if the chaos and danger surrounding us are nothing more than a routine he’s grown accustomed to.

The road takes a sharp curve, and his gaze flickers toward me, a question in his eyes that he doesn’t voice. He’s waiting for me to open up, to voice the bitterness that simmers below the surface. But the words remain stuck in my throat, trapped by years of silence and restraint.

We round a bend, and for a brief moment, the city glitters below, a vast expanse of twinkling lights against the darkening sky. The contrast between the vibrant life below and the desolate wilderness ahead is stark. In that quiet moment, I wonder if Jack is right. Maybe, in his twisted way, my father does care.

But understanding doesn’t soften the sting of betrayal. My family has abandoned me when I need them most, leaving me with a man I barely know to face a threat I don’t fully understand. The anger burns within me, a raw ache I can’t shake.

As we climb higher into the mountains, a chill settles in the pit of my stomach. The darkness around us grows thicker, the trees casting long shadows that dance in the car’s headlights. I shiver, a sense of foreboding settling over me.

“Where are we going?” I ask, breaking the silence, needing to fill the void with something, anything. My thoughts are too loud in the quiet, each one spiraling into the next with relentless urgency.

“I have a cabin in the mountains. We should be safe there,” Jack replies, his voice steady. “Check my phone again, would you? Your dad might’ve sent a message with instructions.”

I pick up his phone, scrolling through the latest messages. My father’s name pops up, and I open the message, skimming through the words. Relief and irritation war within me as I read his instructions.

“He says you’re to protect me with your life, or he’ll ‘cut off your balls,’” I recite, unable to keep a bitter edge from my tone.

Jack’s mouth twitches. “I’ll cut off my own balls before I let anything happen to you.”

Cheeks burning, I drop my gaze. Maybe this pull I feel for him isn’t as one-sided as I thought.

“So, what now?” I ask, my voice tinged with exhaustion. “We drive straight to this cabin?”

His eyes are shadowed with a seriousness that sends a chill down my spine as they meet mine again. “We have to be careful. Stay off our phones. There’s a chance your family’s phones have been compromised. For all we know, this could be a trap.”

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