Page 97 of The Bodyguard

“What we do gave you this life, Lena.”

“And I’m grateful, don’t get me wrong, but there are things that just don’t sit right with me now. Things I can’t turn a blind eye to anymore. I need a new life, and I need you and mum and dad to understand that.”

“Jesus, you are so fucking stubborn… You were great at what you do, do you know that? Nielsen Construction thrived under you…”

“But I was never really in charge, was I?” I hold his gaze, and I can tell I’m right. What I said there, I’m right. And he can’t argue. “Dad was always pulling the strings. I was just a willing puppet. And I can’t be that anymore.”

Ollie leans back against the kitchen counter and throws his head back, the sigh he gives laden with frustration. “Dad won’t be happy.”

“Did he just expect you to come here, tell me all of this, and then for me to happily trot back home with you?”

“I didn’t say that. But he really thought there might be a chance you’d listen, if not to me then to Jonah.”

I raise an eyebrow. “”Oh, so, he’s sent Jonah over here to do much the same as what you were sent over to do?”

“Not sure that’s going to happen, but, he just wanted Jonah to be honest with you. About how he felt. And then he kind of hoped the rest would take care of itself.”

I uncross my arms and place my hands on my hips as I turn around and stare back out of the window. “This is ridiculous.”

“Just think about what I’ve said, Lena. And listen to Jonah.”

I spin back around, my eyes once more locking on my brother’s. “You really think Jonah is going to toe the line? That he’s going to do what Dad asked him to do? That he’ll actually be complicit in some game to get me to think again about what I’m doing here?”

“I’m hoping he’s going to be honest. Anything else?” Ollie shakes his head. “No idea about that.” He pulls himself away from the counter and comes over to me, dropping a kiss on my forehead. “I love you, kiddo. We all love you. And we’re not monsters, okay? But this is a crazy, fucked-up world and we’re all just doing whatever we can to get by.” He takes my hand and squeezes it gently. “And I don’t want to lose my sister.”

He lets go of my hand and walks back out into the hallway, and I don’t follow him. I watch him go and turn back around to look out of the window, aware that my heart has suddenly started beating so fast and loud it’s all I can feel. All I can hear. What the hell just happened there? And then it hits me again. Jonah’s coming. He’s coming…

Taking a deep breath, I almost run out of the kitchen, along the hallway to my bedroom, a small but bright and pretty room with French doors that open out onto a tiny, gravelled terrace surrounded by palm trees and plants with a view of the sea.

Looking in the mirror I wince at my reflection, I mean, I don’t look bad, but I could look better. I’ve been out most of the day, my mascara’s slightly smudged, but my skin is starting to see the beginnings of a light tan, thanks to the beautiful weather. A quick brush of blusher along my cheekbones and I’ll be good to go. And then I stop, my make-up brush in mid-lift. What am I doing? This is insane!

I put the brush down and head back to the kitchen; find an open bottle of white wine in the fridge, and pour myself a glass just as the doorbell rings out a second time in less than half an hour. This has to be Jonah. It has to be. And I hurriedly gulp down most of that glass of wine before I make any attempt to move: to go out into the hallway and open the door. I’m not sure I want to see him, not sure I want to go back there. I’m trying to move on but nobody is letting me do that.

Feeling the alcohol hit almost immediately, I give myself an inner shake and head out into the hallway, not bothering to put the chain on the door before I open it. And there he is, tall and handsome and everything I never thought I wanted. Until I did.

“I knew you were coming,” I tell him. And he smiles at me. And I want to smile back but I can’t seem to move a muscle. Any muscle. It’s like every inch of me has seized up.

“I saw Ollie leaving. I guessed he was here to warn you? Let you know I was on my way?”

“What’s happening here, Jonah?”

He looks at me for a moment, and that connection; that electricity between us, it’s still there, fizzing away, and I wish it wasn’t. It would be so much easier if it wasn’t.

“Can I come in?”

I hesitate for a second or two, unsure of what to do for the best. Part of me is screaming at me to close the door, go back to my original plan to get as far away from all this shit as possible. It’s over. All of it, it’s over. But there’s another part that’s telling me to let him in. Talk to him. Hear him out. That part wins.

We go into the living-room with its white walls, cream sofas and tiled floor, the French doors flung open to let the breeze in, the sound of the street down below drifting upwards. And I’m the first to break the silence between us.

“This is the kind of history I’m not keen on repeating.”

“I know.” Jonah sighs and digs his hands into his pockets. “I get that. I do…”

“I don’t understand what’s happening. I don’t understand why my Dad would do this, and Ollie’s tried to explain, but it doesn’t make sense…” I look at him, and I push aside the multitude of somersaults my stomach’s doing: my rapidly racing heart. “Why would you do anything he asks you to? Didn’t you, even for a second, think that this might be nothing more than a trap?”

“I thought it, yeah. Of course I did.” He shrugs, glancing around the room. “And it still might be.” His eyes are back on me now. “But, I’m all for taking a risk.”

I shake my head, I still don’t get any of this. “Haven’t you taken enough of those already? Didn’t you feel like quitting while you were ahead?”

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