Page 58 of The Bodyguard

I frown. “Did mum or dad put you up to this?”

He looks at me with a mock-hurt expression. “Why would they do that?”

I just stare at him. He knows why. “They’ve sent you in to placate me. Get me back on-side. I’m not stupid, Ollie.”

“Nobody said you were. And we get that this is really hard for you, but…”

I hold up my hands to stop him from saying any more. I’ve heard enough. I’m in for the duration, I get that now. Any attempt to escape is futile.

Ollie gets up, slides his hands into his pockets and backs away towards the door, throwing me a grin and a wink. “I meant it about the holiday, by the way. Nobody put me up to that, that was genuine.”

I smile at him. “Okay. I believe you.”

And I do. Kind of. But he knows as well as I do that that holiday will more than likely never happen.

Walking over to the window, I glance outside, and I take a moment. My head’s been all over the place since – well. Since Bodie and I had sex. Since he told me “we” couldn’t happen, not for real, anyway. But we still have to pretend…

I’m about to turn away when I catch sight of him – Bodie – coming out of the cottage. He isn’t glued to my side today because Dad and Ollie are having one of those rare days at home, and I’m thankful for that, to be honest. It’s giving me time to think, to replay what happened over and over in my head: try to look at it a little differently. As a way of making myself believe he’s right? That it really was a mistake? A line we should never have crossed?

He's on his phone again, pacing up and down in front of the cottage, waving his free arm around his head as he talks. He always looks slightly stressed whenever he’s on his phone, and I don’t know whether he realises that, but it just makes me all the more curious as to who he’s talking to. And then I remind myself that he has a life outside of this job. One that doesn’t involve me. I was just a spur-of-the-moment mistake, remember?

Turning away from the window I go back over to my almost-unpacked suitcase, finish the job, and take the case back into the closet, tucking it away in its own designated cubby hole. And I look around this well-ordered, neat and tidy space, and I wish my life was this organised.

Bodie

I hang up and sit down on the step, and I glance up at the main house. She’s in there. Lena Nielsen. A woman I was never supposed to get this close to, and I know I’ve handled all of this wrong, and what’s happening now – what I intend to do next, it’s reckless and dangerous and I could be putting Christ knows how many people in danger, Lena included. Definitely myself. But this is a situation that could easily get out of control, and I have to fix it. Even if it ends my career… No. There’s no “if” about it, this is going to kill it dead. But I can’t see any other way. She’s got under my skin, invaded my brain, she’s destroyed what little self-control I had left, and I can’t pretend anymore. I told her we had to, that I had a job to do, and I did, have a job to do. Keeping her safe. And I’m still going to do that, but onmyterms. I gave up on life once, because I made a mistake. I’m not going to make another one.

Thirteen

Lena

I don’t want to hold his hand, but we’re at another function. Another Nielsen charity dinner that demands our presence. Everything has to remain normal, on the outside. From within, though, it’s becoming increasingly obvious that everything is far from that.

Bodie squeezes my hand and looks at me, and when he smiles it’s there in his eyes, that smile. It’s real, and I can’t help but smile back.

“You look amazing,” he murmurs, leaning into me, his mouth almost touching my shoulder as he speaks, and I feel a shiver rip through me. Every inch of me wants to turn my head to kiss him, but I’ve made a decision that kissing is off-limits now. We don’t need to do that shit to make a relationship look real, there’s no need for public displays of affection. We’re not teenagers, we’re grown-ups. I can handle pretend if it’s basic and necessary, kissing is neither of those.

“I need to talk to you, later.”

My eyes meet his, and I frown. “Again? What about this time?”

“Later.”

That’s it. That’s all I’m getting, and he lets go of my hand and starts chatting to people around him, he’s so good at fitting into these situations; blending in, and that isn’t what your usual bodyguard does, is it? I don’t know. I always thought they made their presence felt, to warn people; keep them at bay. Is undercover work part of their job description? Maybe it is. Maybe I just watch too many movies and make too many assumptions.

He glances back over his shoulder, to make sure I haven’t wandered off, but the days of me wanting to do that are gone. I wish they weren’t. But the atmosphere at home, what happened with Bodie, it’s making me nervous. Apprehensive. Anxious. I’ve lost control of my life, and that scares me. All of this, scares me.

A hand on my shoulder makes me jump, and I spin around to see my dad, sporting a genuinely apologetic expression.

“I’m so sorry, my darling. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s fine.” It’s not. I’m on edge, because of him. Because of something he’s done, something this family’s shit has caused. And now anger’s joining all those other emotions I’m feeling right now.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” He takes a sip of his drink – cognac, he drinks nothing else – and glances around the packed room full of charity donors, work colleagues, and my father’s friends. Business associates.

Criminals…

“We should make the most of nights like this.” His eyes are back on me. “We should take more time to live a little. Don’t you think?”

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