Page 7 of Keep Her from Them

It took several streets of distance before my heart calmed and I stopped scanning our surroundings, wondering what the ever-loving hell had just happened.

Then awareness gathered around me.

I was alone, mostly, in a plush car with a woman who was staring at me. I faced her.

“Hey, Alex.” Why was I launching in with the informal? “I mean Your Highness.”

Her expression slipped to incredulous. “Bodyguards usually stick with ‘ma’am’. Only friends refer to me as Alex.”

I blinked, annoyed, even if she was right. “Excuse me. We were friends, once.”

“You are not excused. As I recall, you didn’t act very friendly last I saw you, and that was a long time ago.”

I let out a breath that was fifty percent irritation and the other part relief that she remembered me as much as I did her. “I was trying to help.”

The cars merged onto a busy road, nose-to-tail evening traffic slowing our progress. Alexandra didn’t reply.

“Your security is shite. Does that kind of thing happen often?”

She glanced at the driver. “Why are you on my team, Raphael?”

So she remembered my name. “I work for another crew and was borrowed as a favour to replace your fourth team member.”

An expression crossed her face, too fast for me to pin it down, but it was something close to sadness. “Toni is with his dying mother. They weren’t going to let him leave, but I insisted. Awfully random to have you appear in his place, but anyway, your criticism of my bodyguard team is noted. Now you’ve gifted me your so-valuable insight based on a few hours of experience, there’s no reason to continue this conversation.”

I stared back, open-mouthed. “You used to be nice.”

She collected her phone from her wee bag, keeping it low and out of sight of the windows. “I used to be a lot of things until someone stripped his shirt and ruined it all.”

Silence fell around us, thick and heavy.

Had to get my mind off the night in question. Of half-naked me and sweet, hot her. Of the fact she obviously blamed me for it.

“I should’ve tackled that man and left Riss to deal with ye.” I just couldn’t help the gripe.

She didn’t even look up. “At least Riss would allow me some peace and quiet after a stressful evening.”

Fucking hell.

None of this had been what I’d expected. I’d imagined reconnecting with Alex again. Getting a chance to apologise to her had been important to me, but I’d assumed she’d accept my explanation. That I’d work for her with extra diligence because of our shared history.

Only in the last part was I right. Princess Alexandra was still pissed off with me even years later, and any apology I could make would fall on deaf ears.

A short while later, we were back at the palace. Our car halted, and I readied myself to wish her a good evening, but someone opened her door and she swept out, her heels clicking on the cobblestones as she disappeared into the house.

I followed more slowly, seeking out Jared. The man reached the entrance. I called his name. He didn’t stop.

A hand landed on my shoulder, and Johnnie turned me. “The boss asked me to show you our digs. Beer after?”

Adrenaline still coursed through me, but I agreed and let myself be managed. Though every instinct yelled at me to fix the things I knew were wrong.

In a modern pub on Islington Avenue, with a football match blaring on a TV screen that took up most of one wall, I nursed a beer, the glass cool against the still-warm night.

Johnnie and Will watched the match and talked shite about the teams. I was stuck in my funk.

My phone buzzed, and I lifted it to find Ben’s name on my screen.

“Got to take this,” I said to the others, not that they were paying any attention to me.

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