Page 14 of The Bodyguard Situation

“Harper?” Micah’s voice is full of fake concern.

“Sorry, my stomach hurts really bad,” she quickly replies, clearly shaken.

Micah’s response is smooth, way too calm. “Just a few more minutes. Okay?”

“I’ll try,” she says.

Those minutes pass by.

I lean in closer to her, keeping my voice low and urgent. “I will find you, and I will come for you. That’s a promise. You’re my responsibility, Harper.”

She stiffens. “No, I’m not. Let me handle this.”

“No can do,baby girl,” I say, throwing Micah’s words back at her.

Anger radiates from her. “He’ll never let me leave with you.”

“You’re right. Only problem is, I don’t give a fuck. Oh, before you go, where are you staying?” I step closer until we’re almost touching. “At his prison by the bay? The one with the balcony and tall fucking walls?”

I study her, and her silence says it all.

“The confirmation I needed. I’m coming for you, Harper,” I promise, leaning down so my words brush against her ear. “We’ll do this your way, but just know that I live for this shit. I love a good game of cat and mouse.”

I back up, and a smirk spreads across my lips as I see the fury ignite even brighter in her eyes. “And you must love it too.”

“I’m so used to younotsaying much, and now you won’t shut the fuck up. Lucky me,” she snaps, each word dripping with venom.

Her agitation is intoxicating, captivating, and so fucking hot.

I know her anger isn’t really aimed at me, but at the nightmare she’s stuck in.

Harper is ridiculously independent, and I knew she wouldn’t walk out of this diner with me today, but I don’t need her to.

“I know you’re pissed.”

“Yes, I am,” she says.

“At yourself,” I add.

There’s something thrilling about seeing her emotions finally break free from the polished surface she’s tried to maintain since getting with him.

“Can’t handle the truth?” I ask calmly. “Looks like no one else has managed to get through to that pretty little head of yours. Not your best friend. Not your brother. So, they sent me. How many red flags will you ignore, Harp? Have some fucking self-respect. Are you going to marry that psycho, knowing who he really is? Tell me.”

“Fuck you,” she snaps, narrowing her eyes. Her voice drips with disdain, and I can tell I struck a nerve.

But this is a truth only I can share because, deep down, she knows I won’t lie to her. Her jaw tightens, nostrils flaring like she’s about to scream—or maybe slap me. Honestly, I almost wish she would. At least then I’d know I made an impact.

I promised her honesty years ago, and I’ve stuck to it, whether she’s liked it or not. No one else is as straightforward with her as me.

“I have this under control,” she adds.

I chuckle. “No, you don’t.”

“I need to go. So, please fuck off.”

“Is that an invitation?” I tease, pushing her buttons, daring her to lose it.

For a second, she looks like she’s about to blow up, but then she holds back, and it says more than any words could. For a few tense moments, we just stare at each other. Harper opens her mouth once, then shuts it, deciding not to waste her breath on a comeback. Her silence always hits harder than any insult.

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